Post polio syndrome, scoliosis.
I've blogged somewhere in this blog.
Sometime, the post polio my husband has, and the scoliosis that resulted would be my husbands undoing.
The muscles would decide they are too tired. The twisting would cause the internal organs to just have to work too hard.
They told him when he was younger, he would never make it to 35. (they didn't even know what post polio was back then, yet, they knew it was coming, he was so severe!)
He passed 35 ... 37 ...40 ...and 42 ..and he just seemed to get healthier ..not worse.
As time went by and they addressed his different conditions ... it all seemed to work.
He hit 50 ...and he decided he did not like who he was as a person. He had few friends, and he was a hard man to live with. Bitterness was eating him alive. His health issues, was the least of his problems. He examined who he was ...and decided that what he knew about God, was really the key. He decided to put God first ... and instantly, his life changed. WE changed as a couple. WE changed as a family.
For the last year and a half ...we've enjoyed life more than I ever could have imagined. Life, has been good to us. God, has been good to us. We got our house, we have 2 great kids.
In my mind, I watched this amazing man walk and just knew that the doctor's had been wrong ... he was going to outlive us all. His determination to function and life a full life was amazing.
He was going to go back to school in the fall, finish his bachelor's degree. (Only 2 semesters, he was just 3 hours when I got sick, things change and technology changes in 15 years ...and well, now it's 2 semesters) He rarely walks with even the cane that he has.
Plans for a business, a ministry ... and to watch our sons grow up. Our youngest to be a chef ..and the oldest to be a doctor. His plans to help our youngest in his business adventure of owning a resteraunt ...and his plans of making a doctor son care for his medical needs.
And one day a cough won't stop ...and the next thing we know ...we're in the hospital. They can't find out what's wrong ...and he's degenerating. It's not pneumonia as first thought. I was upset ...we've been here before! I'm rather insistant! Go back 2 years ago! Look at his records! This has happened before ...only it hasn't.
The infection clears up ... the blood work is clear. The spudem culture shows body fluid ...and no reversable cause is found.
The worst possible diagnosis is given. End stage post polio.
The pulmonologist says that he's seen this happen ...some times you see it coming a mile away, and sometimes they are mowing the lawn one day, and the next day their body simply says "I'm done"
From all he knows about Don's functioning and who Don is.... Don is the latter. Yea, We've always known that would be the case.
I just thought .. he'd make it to 75 ... I really had talked myself into believing it would never happen. He'd outlive me.
So now, we have choices to make that no one should ever have to make.
We don't know where things stand.
Will he recover enough to make it for a while longer, and then in a few months this happen again? Will he make it enough to just have the bipap at night? Will he recover enough to come home with the bipap and be able to live full time on the bipap ...and is he willing to live on the bipap ...or would he rather go see his Savior?
He's fully aware today, of what's going on and what decisions we're facing. We have talked about this day for 20 years. We are standing as a couple, as one. We are standing together ... in prayer ..supported by our church family.
We don't know what tomorrow holds .. we don't know what decisions will be made. We don't know what the next hour holds. We simply don't know. We just have always known.
Dr. Suess
"And will you succeed? Yes indeed! Yes indeed! Ninety Eight and Three Quarters guarenteed!"
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
For the Love of My Life
For the Love of My Life.
Please honey, please, get better. It's not time.
The day will come when it's the polio, but for right now, it's got to be something reversible ... we have too much love still .. too much fun and too much life to experience together in front of us. Too many plans left unlived.
Ya gotta fight this babe.
If You Leave Me Now - P. Cetera
If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me
No baby please don't go
If you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me
No baby please don't go
A love like ours is love that's hard to find
How could we let it slip away
We've come too far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way
When tomorrow comes we'll both regret
Things we said today
Cause I need you more than you'll ever know
Please honey, please, get better. It's not time.
The day will come when it's the polio, but for right now, it's got to be something reversible ... we have too much love still .. too much fun and too much life to experience together in front of us. Too many plans left unlived.
Ya gotta fight this babe.
If You Leave Me Now - P. Cetera
If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me
No baby please don't go
If you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me
No baby please don't go
A love like ours is love that's hard to find
How could we let it slip away
We've come too far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way
When tomorrow comes we'll both regret
Things we said today
Cause I need you more than you'll ever know
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Visual DNA
I was a bit surprised where I stood in the general public (who took this quiz anyway)
The percentage of people who are like me in the different area's:
In Art:5%
In Music: 6%
My Treat: 15%
My Landscape: 11%
My Freedom: 5%
My Love: 19%
My Gross:9%
My Like to do: 4%
My Exciting Free time: 2%
My Holiday: 6%
My Vice: 5%
My Bedroom: 4%
My Drink: 8%
WELL ... no one could accuse me of running with the crowd! I wonder, am I in the top percentile or the bottom? *blink*
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
What are you afraid of?
I'm seeing a new therapist. She, like my psychiatrist, can read me. She's not going to let me get away with much either.
My former therapist would ask me "what are you afraid of if you really feel?"
I'd give her some surface answers and we'd talk about them.
I started to answer and she said "Stop. Think. What will happen if you really FEEL?"
I froze. She knew me. She's seen me 2 times, at that point, she'd seen me for exactly 70 minutes of my life ...and she was already past my masks.
So, I had to reach past my own mask to where I'd not dared to go before.
What am I afraid of if I really feel the pain?
Permanence.
If I feel it. It's real. It's forever. It really happened. The person is really dead. The dreadful event really happened. My body really failed. It's real. I can't pretend that it's not.
It's permanent. It's real. If I really feel it. It's real.
Then she asked me when the last time that I felt safe was. Really safe.
Wow. Loaded question.
My former therapist would ask me "what are you afraid of if you really feel?"
I'd give her some surface answers and we'd talk about them.
I started to answer and she said "Stop. Think. What will happen if you really FEEL?"
I froze. She knew me. She's seen me 2 times, at that point, she'd seen me for exactly 70 minutes of my life ...and she was already past my masks.
So, I had to reach past my own mask to where I'd not dared to go before.
What am I afraid of if I really feel the pain?
Permanence.
If I feel it. It's real. It's forever. It really happened. The person is really dead. The dreadful event really happened. My body really failed. It's real. I can't pretend that it's not.
It's permanent. It's real. If I really feel it. It's real.
Then she asked me when the last time that I felt safe was. Really safe.
Wow. Loaded question.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Tagged
My good friend Deneice tagged me.
Moof, you're safe, I won't tag you, you're too busy.
6 things that are unusual about me.
1. I think in sign language.
I learned sign language as a teenager. I was exposed to it as a toddler. My father taught at California School for the Deaf in the Bay Area when I was born, and until I was in early elementary age. I interpreted for a number of years. (never certified, don't ask, it's a sad tale of poor self esteem and stubbornness ...one of those "could have would have should have" stories...)I signed so often, that I now think in sign.
2. I collect elephants and pigs.
The elephants started when I was a 13 year old. The pigs started after the show CSI started. You don't want to know the whole violent story behind it. *grin*
3. My favorite job of all times was market research. I was one of those annoying people in the mall with a clipboard. You cannot believe what they paid me in 1985 compared to the minimum wage!
4. I rarely watch movies. I don't know why. I don't. Sigh
5. I can't stand being in unstructured groups. You'll find me against a wall, and as hidden as possible. Even if I know everyone in the room and have known them for years.
6. I do not like attention. I love to have fun, and I like to laugh. But I am not someone who likes to draw attention to myself in person.
I'm supposed to tag 6 people ...
Wanda, Alison, Biscotti Brain, Cathy, Todd, Beth
Moof, you're safe, I won't tag you, you're too busy.
6 things that are unusual about me.
1. I think in sign language.
I learned sign language as a teenager. I was exposed to it as a toddler. My father taught at California School for the Deaf in the Bay Area when I was born, and until I was in early elementary age. I interpreted for a number of years. (never certified, don't ask, it's a sad tale of poor self esteem and stubbornness ...one of those "could have would have should have" stories...)I signed so often, that I now think in sign.
2. I collect elephants and pigs.
The elephants started when I was a 13 year old. The pigs started after the show CSI started. You don't want to know the whole violent story behind it. *grin*
3. My favorite job of all times was market research. I was one of those annoying people in the mall with a clipboard. You cannot believe what they paid me in 1985 compared to the minimum wage!
4. I rarely watch movies. I don't know why. I don't. Sigh
5. I can't stand being in unstructured groups. You'll find me against a wall, and as hidden as possible. Even if I know everyone in the room and have known them for years.
6. I do not like attention. I love to have fun, and I like to laugh. But I am not someone who likes to draw attention to myself in person.
I'm supposed to tag 6 people ...
Wanda, Alison, Biscotti Brain, Cathy, Todd, Beth
Friday, May 18, 2007
Woodpeckers
Saturday mornings. Sacred time for my parents to sleep in. Sunday's we had to get up early for church. Since my parents helped to start the church, and my step dad was one of the what would be known in most churches as a 'deacon' we had to be one of the first ones there to set up. First to arrive, last to leave. During the week, my Step Dad was a bus driver for a school district just outside our town, but within our school district. So, he had to get up very early and go into the bus barn, get a bus and drive the 40 minutes on the mountain roads to be at his first stop on time. He was usually out of the house by 4:30 am.
So, Saturdays ... his sacred sleep time.
Early Saturday mornings, in the 1970's for children, however, was cartoon time! HR Puff n Stuff, The Cosby Show, Sigmund the Sea Monster, Scooby Doo, Spider Man, you name it, from the time the sun came up till noon ... it was kid time in front of the TV! We knew when cartoon time was over, chore time would start ... before time for friends ... but the mornings ... were ours. Fun and fantasy.
Every saturday morning, my sister and I would sit in front of the TV. We'd get our bowls of cereal and get ready to watch our favorite shows. Before too long, outside we'd hear this
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"
Within 5 minutes, my Step dad would come stomping down the hallway. Grumbling.
"that stupid woodpecker! Can't it let a grown man sleep? My only day to sleep in! Saturdays are SACRED, does the bird not KNOW that?"
"Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap" "Oh, you bird! I'm going to do away with you one day!!" He'd grumble and he'd plop down in his rocking chair. Green and blue, a tapestry type feel to the chair. His sparking eyes, and laughter in his voice belied the words he was using. The smile on his face, telling my sister and I, "good morning"
I would jump up, and go into the kitchen to get him a bowl of cereal. Wake him up with breakfast and there would be no way he'd fall back asleep! My sister would let him pick the cartoon next up. Anything to keep this 'grumbling giant' in our cartoon fest.
When he'd finish his cereal, he'd put the bowl on the table and I'd wait for the spoon to drop in the bowl. Within minutes, it never failed, that I'd find my way onto his lap. The safest place in my world to be.
Nothing could harm me there, nothing could get to me. Life, was perfect in my Father's lap. The kids at school during the week who wanted to bully me ...were gone. Even my sister's teasing, no longer mattered, because I was in the arms of the man who told me that I mattered and that I would always be his darling. We would sit and watch those cartoons, every saturday morning ... week in and week out. Dad would continue to pretend to grumble about the awful woodpecker. I'd take my finger and poke him in the belly "peck peck peck" I'd say and grin and giggle. We'd both laugh as he was well aware that I knew that he loved being woke up by that "awful bird"
His friends at church, and work and in the neighborhood offered him MANY solutions to rid us of the pest. From shooting the bird, to poison to trapping ...and in the 8 years we lived there, he refused all traps. The "awful bird" had it's purpose. It had to intterupt his sacred sleep time. It had to give him his saturday mornings with his girls. That, to him, was far more sacred than any sleeping in could ever be.
You all know I love to post stories about what a wonderful man my Step dad was. It's not uncommon, especially in February or approaching Father's day ... so it's not unusal. But, the reason for this posting isn't just a casual mention of my Dad. It's not about the picture going up, and the learning to grieve ...although, I'm sure God is tying it all in ... I've no doubt that he is.
Do you remember, a few weeks ago, about easter time ..when I posted on Paradigm Shifting? As I talked about the changes I'd gone through with getting my house and the depression and adjustment problems I'd had when getting my house. The feelings of having stolen the house and God having to show me ... I'd not stolen this house, but earned it. I did in fact earn this house. I did in fact, earn the book. I did in fact, earn the life that God is giving me. It is a good thing to be in a good place!
So, I've been doing much better ... and daily, things are changing, and growing and I'm setting in more.
This week, I think, there was, excuse the pun, the final nail in the foundation of my house. I was sitting on my couch and looking out the window. It was the day after I'd pulled out the picture of Daddy. I was looking really over at the desk and the window and thinking how much Daddy would have liked this big old tree in my yard.
As I looked. I saw something
A woodpecker! On my tree! I didn't even know oklahoma had woodpeckers! AT all! In the 25 years that I've lived here ... I've never seen one! Or heard one!
It's not the same kind, but it's brightly colored like ours back home. Not crested on the head, a little smaller ... but it still goes "tap, tap, tap, tap," there will be no one, gettin rid of my woodpecker!
As I looked out the window, I sat on the couch, and I saw the woodpecker outside the window by the picture where my Dad is finally in a place of honor ..and I knew.
I am finally home. This IS MY HOME. My Dad, My daughter, Jessica Dawn have joined us as part of the family in memorium. And now, to seal the deal ... a woodpecker is coming to seal the deal.
Peck away sweet Woodpecker. Tap tap tap tap ... you noises are safe with me. Sing your song for my Daddy and me. We love to hear you! Your song means family time for us.
So, Saturdays ... his sacred sleep time.
Early Saturday mornings, in the 1970's for children, however, was cartoon time! HR Puff n Stuff, The Cosby Show, Sigmund the Sea Monster, Scooby Doo, Spider Man, you name it, from the time the sun came up till noon ... it was kid time in front of the TV! We knew when cartoon time was over, chore time would start ... before time for friends ... but the mornings ... were ours. Fun and fantasy.
Every saturday morning, my sister and I would sit in front of the TV. We'd get our bowls of cereal and get ready to watch our favorite shows. Before too long, outside we'd hear this
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"
Within 5 minutes, my Step dad would come stomping down the hallway. Grumbling.
"that stupid woodpecker! Can't it let a grown man sleep? My only day to sleep in! Saturdays are SACRED, does the bird not KNOW that?"
"Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap" "Oh, you bird! I'm going to do away with you one day!!" He'd grumble and he'd plop down in his rocking chair. Green and blue, a tapestry type feel to the chair. His sparking eyes, and laughter in his voice belied the words he was using. The smile on his face, telling my sister and I, "good morning"
I would jump up, and go into the kitchen to get him a bowl of cereal. Wake him up with breakfast and there would be no way he'd fall back asleep! My sister would let him pick the cartoon next up. Anything to keep this 'grumbling giant' in our cartoon fest.
When he'd finish his cereal, he'd put the bowl on the table and I'd wait for the spoon to drop in the bowl. Within minutes, it never failed, that I'd find my way onto his lap. The safest place in my world to be.
Nothing could harm me there, nothing could get to me. Life, was perfect in my Father's lap. The kids at school during the week who wanted to bully me ...were gone. Even my sister's teasing, no longer mattered, because I was in the arms of the man who told me that I mattered and that I would always be his darling. We would sit and watch those cartoons, every saturday morning ... week in and week out. Dad would continue to pretend to grumble about the awful woodpecker. I'd take my finger and poke him in the belly "peck peck peck" I'd say and grin and giggle. We'd both laugh as he was well aware that I knew that he loved being woke up by that "awful bird"His friends at church, and work and in the neighborhood offered him MANY solutions to rid us of the pest. From shooting the bird, to poison to trapping ...and in the 8 years we lived there, he refused all traps. The "awful bird" had it's purpose. It had to intterupt his sacred sleep time. It had to give him his saturday mornings with his girls. That, to him, was far more sacred than any sleeping in could ever be.
You all know I love to post stories about what a wonderful man my Step dad was. It's not uncommon, especially in February or approaching Father's day ... so it's not unusal. But, the reason for this posting isn't just a casual mention of my Dad. It's not about the picture going up, and the learning to grieve ...although, I'm sure God is tying it all in ... I've no doubt that he is.
Do you remember, a few weeks ago, about easter time ..when I posted on Paradigm Shifting? As I talked about the changes I'd gone through with getting my house and the depression and adjustment problems I'd had when getting my house. The feelings of having stolen the house and God having to show me ... I'd not stolen this house, but earned it. I did in fact earn this house. I did in fact, earn the book. I did in fact, earn the life that God is giving me. It is a good thing to be in a good place!
So, I've been doing much better ... and daily, things are changing, and growing and I'm setting in more.
This week, I think, there was, excuse the pun, the final nail in the foundation of my house. I was sitting on my couch and looking out the window. It was the day after I'd pulled out the picture of Daddy. I was looking really over at the desk and the window and thinking how much Daddy would have liked this big old tree in my yard.
As I looked. I saw something
A woodpecker! On my tree! I didn't even know oklahoma had woodpeckers! AT all! In the 25 years that I've lived here ... I've never seen one! Or heard one!
It's not the same kind, but it's brightly colored like ours back home. Not crested on the head, a little smaller ... but it still goes "tap, tap, tap, tap," there will be no one, gettin rid of my woodpecker!
As I looked out the window, I sat on the couch, and I saw the woodpecker outside the window by the picture where my Dad is finally in a place of honor ..and I knew.
I am finally home. This IS MY HOME. My Dad, My daughter, Jessica Dawn have joined us as part of the family in memorium. And now, to seal the deal ... a woodpecker is coming to seal the deal.
Peck away sweet Woodpecker. Tap tap tap tap ... you noises are safe with me. Sing your song for my Daddy and me. We love to hear you! Your song means family time for us.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Learning more about grieving
A couple of months ago, my psychiatrist noted that I tend to throw important things away. The statement shocked me. But, he was right.
The comment kind of went through me ...why do I do that?
I don't have pictures up, I don't have reminders of my past ... I don't have memories hanging around ... I don't have momento's ... I don't have my trophies ... I don't have the important things that remind me of my successes or failures ... I don't keep the important things in life.
So .. he started the thought process going back then.
Then the issues with grieving came up when Kylie passed away.
So, I'm trying to really deal with grief, in a real way.
My step dad died in 1979. I've posted here many many times about him, so any regular reader of this blog knows how much I've loved him, how much he meant to me. How deeply his death impacted me. But, no picture of him existed in my house. Burried deep in a box, I finally found a picture of him. I got it out, and brushed it off ..and put it in a little frame and put it on the computer desk. Right next to Jessica's bank.
Monday Evening, Benjamin walked up to me. "Mom, who is this?" As he handed me the picture. My heart sank. My beloved Daddy ... this man who's meant more to me than anyone ... my kids know my step dad .. they know the stories ...they know how much I loved him ...but they'd never seen his picture!! How could I have done that to them ..to him?
I've fixed that now.
Daddy is on the desk, smiling at me while I type. His sparkling eyes and his great big smile reminding me just how much he loved me. Unconditional ... and forever.(when we get a scanner up, I'll scan the picture in, this is a picture of the picture)
The comment kind of went through me ...why do I do that?
I don't have pictures up, I don't have reminders of my past ... I don't have memories hanging around ... I don't have momento's ... I don't have my trophies ... I don't have the important things that remind me of my successes or failures ... I don't keep the important things in life.
So .. he started the thought process going back then.
Then the issues with grieving came up when Kylie passed away.
So, I'm trying to really deal with grief, in a real way.
My step dad died in 1979. I've posted here many many times about him, so any regular reader of this blog knows how much I've loved him, how much he meant to me. How deeply his death impacted me. But, no picture of him existed in my house. Burried deep in a box, I finally found a picture of him. I got it out, and brushed it off ..and put it in a little frame and put it on the computer desk. Right next to Jessica's bank.
Monday Evening, Benjamin walked up to me. "Mom, who is this?" As he handed me the picture. My heart sank. My beloved Daddy ... this man who's meant more to me than anyone ... my kids know my step dad .. they know the stories ...they know how much I loved him ...but they'd never seen his picture!! How could I have done that to them ..to him?
I've fixed that now.
Daddy is on the desk, smiling at me while I type. His sparkling eyes and his great big smile reminding me just how much he loved me. Unconditional ... and forever.(when we get a scanner up, I'll scan the picture in, this is a picture of the picture)
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mother's Day
Well, anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows how much I despise the color purple. As well as knowing how much my mother loves the color purple.
Well, for Mother's Day, I came up with THE plan ... I wore a solid purple suit to church today. Just for her.
As she came into the gym where we were having the breakfast, she saw me and said "Is this for me?" and I said yes. Her eyes teared up and I knew I'd made the right choice. Ironically enough, THIS year, they chose to take pictures of all the mother's and their children ... including adult mom's and daughters! So she will have a keepsake of my gift to her!
She called me this afternoon to say thank you, that it was really better than anything that I could have bought her.
So, for me, for Mother's Day, I have my Swing that was bought for me a couple of months ago, and my husband is grilling steaks. He also bought me some Twizzler's. :)
For myself, I decided to take a picture of Jessica Dawn's bank and stocking to post it here.
I've been researching a bit of what a 20 week pregnancy was developmentally, where she was. So, some day this week, I will post where she was when she went to be with Jesus. So, for my gift to me, I'm getting to know Jessica a little more. 
Saturday, May 12, 2007
The difference is the size of their Toys
The newest edition of the Eagler's household is my husband's 'lawnmower'.
Twitch standing guard.
Checking out the engine (again ...from a different angle ya know?)
Gotta read the horsepower up close! (it might have changed in the rain!)
Now really, can you mow with your foot in there?, is that safe?
Um, can you mow the lawn from inside the porch railing?
Take note of Twitch's ears, he is SO not happy about Don being on HIS tractor!!!
These were the pictures that were emailed to us before we bought it. We bought it from a young man who'd bought it at the end of 2004, used it for the summer of 2005, 2006, and then a couple of weeks ago, went out and bought a zero radius turn tractor. His wife, is fit to be tied. He had to unload this one, and fast .. at a loss if necessary so she didn't have to look at 2 perfectly good tractors ... Which, is what enabled Mr. Eagler to get his toy ..er Tractor ...
Note ... the most important feature
The cup holder ...for the coffee.
Twitch standing guard.
Checking out the engine (again ...from a different angle ya know?)
Gotta read the horsepower up close! (it might have changed in the rain!)
Now really, can you mow with your foot in there?, is that safe?
Um, can you mow the lawn from inside the porch railing?
Take note of Twitch's ears, he is SO not happy about Don being on HIS tractor!!!
These were the pictures that were emailed to us before we bought it. We bought it from a young man who'd bought it at the end of 2004, used it for the summer of 2005, 2006, and then a couple of weeks ago, went out and bought a zero radius turn tractor. His wife, is fit to be tied. He had to unload this one, and fast .. at a loss if necessary so she didn't have to look at 2 perfectly good tractors ... Which, is what enabled Mr. Eagler to get his toy ..er Tractor ...
Note ... the most important feature
The cup holder ...for the coffee.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Grief
I'm not sure I understand the grieving process. The minds insistance on dealing with issues ...even if you, as the owner of the experience choose to not deal with a situation that causes pain. You can put it aside for a time, sometimes a long period of time ..but eventually it will surface. Sometimes you can see the trigger that causes it, other times not.
It is quite normal for men and women to not deal with issues of abuses in childhood to start to deal with them in their mid to late thirties and into the the forties.
An anniversary of a death, or a friend becoming ill with an illness that took the life of a loved one.
For me, dealing with my step father's suicide ... it was having a few friends who were suicidal ...all coinciding with the 25th anniversary of his death. That forced me to actually look at how his death had not only effected me but what meaning was I going to let it bring to life.
I have had a few situations that were grief causing situations. I did not find the people around me very understanding of the pain I was going through. "He was 'just' your step dad!" I can't even count the number of times I heard that comment. (um, he married my mom when I was 13 months old, sorry, he was my Daddy)
The dismissal of my pain, soon caused me to stuff the pain.
When I went through my divorce ...that one I learned to stuff fast "you're young, you'll marry again!"
Wow! I heard that comment the WEEK of my ex asking me for a divorce ...
With in a week of the divorce being granted ... life was expected to go on ... Happy shall we be! "Speak only good words over your life or you'll give the devil a foothold to destroy your life!"
Grief? Not allowed ... only allowed to speak good!
There was no one that I could tell of the feelings of loss, betrayal, fear ... and just plain being ripped in two.
Then I married again. I got pregnant ... I felt the baby move a little early, but not too much, about 16 weeks. I went in for my prenatal appointment. It was time for an ultrasound. They'd told me that if the baby was in the right position, and it was clear enough, they might be able to tell me what the baby was. As I lay there, listening to the heart beat, they said the heart beat was 162 bpm ...and they did the ultrasound ...all I could see was the spine and the head and some fingers. The technition called the doctor in so I could be told what the sex of the baby was, because she (tech) was pretty sure she could tell. The doctor said that he would bet it was a girl. He said, that ultrasounds weren't perfect. So don't go pink crazy yet. Wait till we do a later ultrasound.
I didn't ... I knew in my heart that this was a little girl. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God had answered my prayers.
I ran home from the doctor's and told Don. We immediately came up with a name
Jessica Dawn Eagler.
She was due the end of the year ... a New Years Baby ...we talked about how fun it would be to have the first baby of the year and how much we did NOT want a Christmas baby.
Jessica was after his grandmother Jesse and a friend of mine, Jessica, who'd died when she was 14.
I was just starting to wear maternity clothing and was having so much fun. I was waitressing and so enjoyed telling my customers that it was a girl named Jessica Dawn, after my friend, her great Grandmother and her Daddy Don.
Then, one night, I was waitressing in August, I felt sick. Just sick. I didn't hurt, I was just sick. I was a bit dizzy and I couldn't handle the heat of the resteraunt. I almost passed out a couple of times.
I told my boss I had to go home at 1 in the morning ...and I started to go home. Instead, I drove to the ER. We had no phone at home, so I couldn't call my husband. It didn't occur to me to call anyone else, a friend, a family member. I didn't want to make a fuss.
In the ER ... the doctor asked me if I was having pain .. I said no. He looked at me funny, like he didn't believe me. They did some lab work and gave me a pelvic exam. He asked again about pain as they hooked me up to a monitor for the baby. There was no heartbeat. I started to cry. I told him again there was no pain. He just didn't believe me. I really honestly don't remember if there was no pain, or if I wouldn't accept that there was no pain. I kept telling him I was sick to my stomach, there was no pain.
By 6 in the morning, August 19, 1988, I'd lost Jessica Dawn Eagler.
She'd died.
The medical records reflected that it was a 19.5 week pregnancy. A miscarriage.
But, by my count from my due date, I was past 20 weeks and almost 21 weeks. A stillbirth.
My sister "miscarried" at the same point in a pregnacy several years later, and was given the choice of picking 20 weeks or 19 weeks. With 20 weeks, by law, you're required to have the funeral. 19 weeks, it's a miscarried. The mom is 'spared' the stress of the funeral. My sister, much to my dismay, chose the 19 weeks.
I was not given the choice. They made the decision for me. I'd have taken the 20. I needed the finalization of saying goodbye. Although, right then or there, I'm not sure what my decision would have been.
I think it was the few days after as people were acting like we'd lost our newspaper that I'd wished we'd had the funeral. For people to realize, we'd lost a BABY. We lost a part of our family.
We bought a little silver bear from an engravement shop that says "Jessica Dawn
8-19-88 We love you" and we thought ...we would always keep her center of our thoughts. Christmas time, my mom and Don's mom bought a little ornament with her name engraved on it. Don and I bought her a stocking that we put up every year.
When Samuel was about 6, he asked what the stocking was for. We explained that he had a sister in heaven. We asked him to not tell his brother, but to let his brother figure out the stocking or the bank, like he did ..and ask in his own time. Being a little boy, he couldn't wait to tell his little brother about his sister in heaven. So, a few weeks later Benjamin shocked me as he asked "When do I get to see my sister Jessica?"
Over the years, Benjamin has occassionally asked questions out of the blue like that. He talks about Jessica as if he knows her. To them, it's not a question that she is a part of our family. Don, and I, do not talk about her. The loss, is too painful. Her bank sits on our computer desk, and occassionally we both look at it, and I can still see the pain in his eyes when the stocking is hung. When Benjamin says something about her, I feel like I've been jabbed.
When Kylie died last week ... Benjamin's comment was "Jessica is there to show her around"
Woah.
For the last few days, I've been staring at Jessica's bank. As we had a senior graduation banquet this weekend at church, the realization that she would have been a Senior in High School that would have been her in one of those beautiful dresses ...
So, why Kylie's death has forced these memories, I'm not sure. My psychiatrist wasn't surprised at all. His response was "maybe now you can get to know your daughter as well as Benjamin knows his sister"
Daughter.
wow. My daughter. I've never dared to call her that. It makes my stomach turn flip flops and it hurts my heart ... she's the baby we lost.
My Daughter, Jessica Dawn ... I wonder what you would look like at 18? I've always pictured you with dark curly hair like your daddy ... blue eyes like mine ... and more than likely ornery like me. What are you like in heaven? Are you a baby? Are you 18? Are you taking care of Kylie for Teresa like I'd like you to? What does time do with babies who are stillborn? My Daughter, Jessica Dawn.
It is quite normal for men and women to not deal with issues of abuses in childhood to start to deal with them in their mid to late thirties and into the the forties.
An anniversary of a death, or a friend becoming ill with an illness that took the life of a loved one.
For me, dealing with my step father's suicide ... it was having a few friends who were suicidal ...all coinciding with the 25th anniversary of his death. That forced me to actually look at how his death had not only effected me but what meaning was I going to let it bring to life.
I have had a few situations that were grief causing situations. I did not find the people around me very understanding of the pain I was going through. "He was 'just' your step dad!" I can't even count the number of times I heard that comment. (um, he married my mom when I was 13 months old, sorry, he was my Daddy)
The dismissal of my pain, soon caused me to stuff the pain.
When I went through my divorce ...that one I learned to stuff fast "you're young, you'll marry again!"
Wow! I heard that comment the WEEK of my ex asking me for a divorce ...
With in a week of the divorce being granted ... life was expected to go on ... Happy shall we be! "Speak only good words over your life or you'll give the devil a foothold to destroy your life!"
Grief? Not allowed ... only allowed to speak good!
There was no one that I could tell of the feelings of loss, betrayal, fear ... and just plain being ripped in two.
Then I married again. I got pregnant ... I felt the baby move a little early, but not too much, about 16 weeks. I went in for my prenatal appointment. It was time for an ultrasound. They'd told me that if the baby was in the right position, and it was clear enough, they might be able to tell me what the baby was. As I lay there, listening to the heart beat, they said the heart beat was 162 bpm ...and they did the ultrasound ...all I could see was the spine and the head and some fingers. The technition called the doctor in so I could be told what the sex of the baby was, because she (tech) was pretty sure she could tell. The doctor said that he would bet it was a girl. He said, that ultrasounds weren't perfect. So don't go pink crazy yet. Wait till we do a later ultrasound.
I didn't ... I knew in my heart that this was a little girl. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God had answered my prayers.
I ran home from the doctor's and told Don. We immediately came up with a name
Jessica Dawn Eagler.
She was due the end of the year ... a New Years Baby ...we talked about how fun it would be to have the first baby of the year and how much we did NOT want a Christmas baby.
Jessica was after his grandmother Jesse and a friend of mine, Jessica, who'd died when she was 14.
I was just starting to wear maternity clothing and was having so much fun. I was waitressing and so enjoyed telling my customers that it was a girl named Jessica Dawn, after my friend, her great Grandmother and her Daddy Don.
Then, one night, I was waitressing in August, I felt sick. Just sick. I didn't hurt, I was just sick. I was a bit dizzy and I couldn't handle the heat of the resteraunt. I almost passed out a couple of times.
I told my boss I had to go home at 1 in the morning ...and I started to go home. Instead, I drove to the ER. We had no phone at home, so I couldn't call my husband. It didn't occur to me to call anyone else, a friend, a family member. I didn't want to make a fuss.
In the ER ... the doctor asked me if I was having pain .. I said no. He looked at me funny, like he didn't believe me. They did some lab work and gave me a pelvic exam. He asked again about pain as they hooked me up to a monitor for the baby. There was no heartbeat. I started to cry. I told him again there was no pain. He just didn't believe me. I really honestly don't remember if there was no pain, or if I wouldn't accept that there was no pain. I kept telling him I was sick to my stomach, there was no pain.
By 6 in the morning, August 19, 1988, I'd lost Jessica Dawn Eagler.
She'd died.
The medical records reflected that it was a 19.5 week pregnancy. A miscarriage.
But, by my count from my due date, I was past 20 weeks and almost 21 weeks. A stillbirth.
My sister "miscarried" at the same point in a pregnacy several years later, and was given the choice of picking 20 weeks or 19 weeks. With 20 weeks, by law, you're required to have the funeral. 19 weeks, it's a miscarried. The mom is 'spared' the stress of the funeral. My sister, much to my dismay, chose the 19 weeks.
I was not given the choice. They made the decision for me. I'd have taken the 20. I needed the finalization of saying goodbye. Although, right then or there, I'm not sure what my decision would have been.
I think it was the few days after as people were acting like we'd lost our newspaper that I'd wished we'd had the funeral. For people to realize, we'd lost a BABY. We lost a part of our family.
We bought a little silver bear from an engravement shop that says "Jessica Dawn
8-19-88 We love you" and we thought ...we would always keep her center of our thoughts. Christmas time, my mom and Don's mom bought a little ornament with her name engraved on it. Don and I bought her a stocking that we put up every year.
When Samuel was about 6, he asked what the stocking was for. We explained that he had a sister in heaven. We asked him to not tell his brother, but to let his brother figure out the stocking or the bank, like he did ..and ask in his own time. Being a little boy, he couldn't wait to tell his little brother about his sister in heaven. So, a few weeks later Benjamin shocked me as he asked "When do I get to see my sister Jessica?"
Over the years, Benjamin has occassionally asked questions out of the blue like that. He talks about Jessica as if he knows her. To them, it's not a question that she is a part of our family. Don, and I, do not talk about her. The loss, is too painful. Her bank sits on our computer desk, and occassionally we both look at it, and I can still see the pain in his eyes when the stocking is hung. When Benjamin says something about her, I feel like I've been jabbed.
When Kylie died last week ... Benjamin's comment was "Jessica is there to show her around"
Woah.
For the last few days, I've been staring at Jessica's bank. As we had a senior graduation banquet this weekend at church, the realization that she would have been a Senior in High School that would have been her in one of those beautiful dresses ...
So, why Kylie's death has forced these memories, I'm not sure. My psychiatrist wasn't surprised at all. His response was "maybe now you can get to know your daughter as well as Benjamin knows his sister"
Daughter.
wow. My daughter. I've never dared to call her that. It makes my stomach turn flip flops and it hurts my heart ... she's the baby we lost.
My Daughter, Jessica Dawn ... I wonder what you would look like at 18? I've always pictured you with dark curly hair like your daddy ... blue eyes like mine ... and more than likely ornery like me. What are you like in heaven? Are you a baby? Are you 18? Are you taking care of Kylie for Teresa like I'd like you to? What does time do with babies who are stillborn? My Daughter, Jessica Dawn.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Advertising and Blogs
I know that many blogs are simply advertisments. I know that many people are dead set against using their blogs as advertisments. I know that many people fall somewhere in between.
Recently, I added an ad to mine that said I could earn money if I put that ad on my blog. So far, nada ... I'm not sure what it's doing ...but ... no one has complained about it ..so .. oh well.
But, right now, I'm going to put a blatant ad on my blog. Why? Because it's for a business that I think needs some advertisement and one that I think has a very good product.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I'm not exactly a person who goes for alternative medicine. You have to really really convince me of something before I will believe it. This site, is an alternative medicine, sort of, site. It's actually an Herbalists site.
Now, the person who runs it is not your run of the mill herbalist. She has her RN, and she knows what it's like to hurt. She does not throw traditional medicine out the window, she has her own MD and she believes in working with the person's belief's.
She produces a quality product. She started out many years ago ... learning a little here and and there, by that, I don't mean hit and miss, I mean ... she studied ... and didn't just fly off the handle and decided that she knew it all at once.
She really took the time to learn it before she applied it.
She didn't make something until she knew what she was making and how it could help. She started out, if I remember right by getting a massage therapy liscence (although, much to my chagrin, she doesn't do massages anymore, sigh) And month by month, week by week and day by day has educated herself ... through many different resources and experts as to what herb does what.
Her products, are top notch. I have come to rely heavily on her healing salve.
I get sores in my nose, in my mouth and on the edges of my mouth from the lupus, and I've tried everything the rheumatologist has recomended ...and ya know, the Healing Salve is the only thing that helps. Instant pain relief when I put it on the nose or lips sores! When you're talking a lupus sore ...that, is saying something.
This is what her website says about the Healing Salve"
"Ingredients are known to speed healing and repair damage of the skin, due to surgery, insect bites, cuts & scrapes, reduces pain, inflammation, decreases chance of infection and may reduce scarring.
Has effectively been used on diaper rash, surgical incisions, yeast infections, for dried and cracking skin conditions"
My she has a treatment for acne ..although, I'm not sure what it's called, it's on the website.
She has the MOST incredible bath salts ... of every imaginable kind!!
She has mom and baby products, I will have to admit ... with my youngest being 15 ... I've not looked much at those :)
Her lip balm ... would give anything you can buy in the store a run for it's money ... including my no longer favorite ... Carmex! My sons like it better than Blistex, I can't compare it to Blistex since I'm highly allergic to Blistex. I can say I like hers better than Carmex.
Now ... if I sound over the top ... and I probably do ... you have to understand ...I was propbably the hardest person for her to convince. I probably should have been the easiest ... after all ... I am her sister in law. But ... I've been a hard and fast anti alternative medicine person ..and I was not an easy sell ... but I can promise you, her products are absolutely incredible.
They smell absolutely fantabulous ...
As someone who is very skeptical ... I am also very satisfied.
My favorite would have to be
Lip balm
Healing salve (necessary!)
Romance Lotion. *smells heavenly!!!)
Please please, go visit Healingherbals.org
or email HealingHerbals2001@aol.com
and tell Pam that Peggikaye sent ya ...
she will treat ya right. I promise!!!
Recently, I added an ad to mine that said I could earn money if I put that ad on my blog. So far, nada ... I'm not sure what it's doing ...but ... no one has complained about it ..so .. oh well.
But, right now, I'm going to put a blatant ad on my blog. Why? Because it's for a business that I think needs some advertisement and one that I think has a very good product.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I'm not exactly a person who goes for alternative medicine. You have to really really convince me of something before I will believe it. This site, is an alternative medicine, sort of, site. It's actually an Herbalists site.
Now, the person who runs it is not your run of the mill herbalist. She has her RN, and she knows what it's like to hurt. She does not throw traditional medicine out the window, she has her own MD and she believes in working with the person's belief's.
She produces a quality product. She started out many years ago ... learning a little here and and there, by that, I don't mean hit and miss, I mean ... she studied ... and didn't just fly off the handle and decided that she knew it all at once.
She really took the time to learn it before she applied it.
She didn't make something until she knew what she was making and how it could help. She started out, if I remember right by getting a massage therapy liscence (although, much to my chagrin, she doesn't do massages anymore, sigh) And month by month, week by week and day by day has educated herself ... through many different resources and experts as to what herb does what.
Her products, are top notch. I have come to rely heavily on her healing salve.
I get sores in my nose, in my mouth and on the edges of my mouth from the lupus, and I've tried everything the rheumatologist has recomended ...and ya know, the Healing Salve is the only thing that helps. Instant pain relief when I put it on the nose or lips sores! When you're talking a lupus sore ...that, is saying something.
This is what her website says about the Healing Salve"
"Ingredients are known to speed healing and repair damage of the skin, due to surgery, insect bites, cuts & scrapes, reduces pain, inflammation, decreases chance of infection and may reduce scarring.
Has effectively been used on diaper rash, surgical incisions, yeast infections, for dried and cracking skin conditions"
My she has a treatment for acne ..although, I'm not sure what it's called, it's on the website.
She has the MOST incredible bath salts ... of every imaginable kind!!
She has mom and baby products, I will have to admit ... with my youngest being 15 ... I've not looked much at those :)
Her lip balm ... would give anything you can buy in the store a run for it's money ... including my no longer favorite ... Carmex! My sons like it better than Blistex, I can't compare it to Blistex since I'm highly allergic to Blistex. I can say I like hers better than Carmex.
Now ... if I sound over the top ... and I probably do ... you have to understand ...I was propbably the hardest person for her to convince. I probably should have been the easiest ... after all ... I am her sister in law. But ... I've been a hard and fast anti alternative medicine person ..and I was not an easy sell ... but I can promise you, her products are absolutely incredible.
They smell absolutely fantabulous ...
As someone who is very skeptical ... I am also very satisfied.
My favorite would have to be
Lip balm
Healing salve (necessary!)
Romance Lotion. *smells heavenly!!!)
Please please, go visit Healingherbals.org
or email HealingHerbals2001@aol.com
and tell Pam that Peggikaye sent ya ...
she will treat ya right. I promise!!!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Springtime
A year ago, the address I'm writing from didn't even exist.
The lot was here, but it was an empty corner lot. The street running to the side of our house was the official street address of our lot. Actually, several lots. Then, we got the lots and the city re zoned it so that the house would face Cedar instead of Houston ... and gave the whole several lots one address ... and a new address that never existed before in the city's history was born.
Fedex just dropped off a box of medicine to my house. I was staring out the window contemplating a brand new address that had never existed and he just walked up to the door ... and rang the bell.
Our spring weather isn't really being nice ... it's been kind of painful ... my muscles and joints just are not responding well to the changes and the constant air pressure change. I hurt everywhere and I can't seem to make it stop.
This week, I wrote an article for a youth ministry forum, Youth Ministry Exchange. It is an important, but difficult subject. Written to youth pastors on how to recognise if one of their youth members has been raped. I shared the article with my psychiatrist who asked me, what I hope was a rhetorical question (meaning, I hope he wasn't asking me specificially) question of "How can we better 'equip the saints' to reach past our social etiquette?"
Given how firmly I denied everything for as long as I did, I don't have the answer.
On the lighter side, my son got a digital camera this week. He's going camera crazy. He needs to practice his expression when taking his own picture ... a bit too much concentration. :)
However, I am glad because I finally got a picture of my kitchen table ... I have been wanting to get it. It's a beautiful table and it's unusual. Everyone comments on it when they see it ... and I'm absolutely sure there is some history behind it somewhere. It's maple and it is not veneer. That is thick maple, heavy ... beautiful. We have the matching buffet to it too. My parents bought it at an antique shop in 1965 or 1966.
Keep Teresa and her family in your prayers, she's going to need it for quite some time to come.
The lot was here, but it was an empty corner lot. The street running to the side of our house was the official street address of our lot. Actually, several lots. Then, we got the lots and the city re zoned it so that the house would face Cedar instead of Houston ... and gave the whole several lots one address ... and a new address that never existed before in the city's history was born.
Fedex just dropped off a box of medicine to my house. I was staring out the window contemplating a brand new address that had never existed and he just walked up to the door ... and rang the bell.
Our spring weather isn't really being nice ... it's been kind of painful ... my muscles and joints just are not responding well to the changes and the constant air pressure change. I hurt everywhere and I can't seem to make it stop.
This week, I wrote an article for a youth ministry forum, Youth Ministry Exchange. It is an important, but difficult subject. Written to youth pastors on how to recognise if one of their youth members has been raped. I shared the article with my psychiatrist who asked me, what I hope was a rhetorical question (meaning, I hope he wasn't asking me specificially) question of "How can we better 'equip the saints' to reach past our social etiquette?"
Given how firmly I denied everything for as long as I did, I don't have the answer.
On the lighter side, my son got a digital camera this week. He's going camera crazy. He needs to practice his expression when taking his own picture ... a bit too much concentration. :)
However, I am glad because I finally got a picture of my kitchen table ... I have been wanting to get it. It's a beautiful table and it's unusual. Everyone comments on it when they see it ... and I'm absolutely sure there is some history behind it somewhere. It's maple and it is not veneer. That is thick maple, heavy ... beautiful. We have the matching buffet to it too. My parents bought it at an antique shop in 1965 or 1966.
Keep Teresa and her family in your prayers, she's going to need it for quite some time to come.
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