Six weeks since my surgery to implant my electronic nerve stimulator and I haven't run back to the doctor demanding he remove it yet.  The instructions I received to not bend, twist, reach or do much of anything else have been a bit hard to deal with.  It's near impossible to do much of anything without doing one or more of those things, but the doctor insists that too much of any will keep the device from settling.  Even now, I can still feel it moving around in there.  They say by October, it should be settled and I should have my freedom back.

But I've run into a bit of a problem.  You see, since my surgery, I've developed a problem with my rotator cup and my orthopedist wanted me to go to physical therapy.  The first two weeks went pretty well, but in week 3, they added some exercises that started pulling on the muscles around the device.  Well, we couldn't have that, so now physical therapy is on hold until October.

Physcal therapy, I'm afraid, is going to be a lot like mental therapy. Once you start it, it's nearly impossible to stop.  I've been in mental therapy for over 3 years now and when I ask when I should give up and just move on, my therapist always says it's too soon.  I even went so far as to ask my psychiatrist when it's time to give up.  He at least admitted there does come a time when a therapist must admit they have done as much as can be done and move on, but in my case, it was far too premature to make that call.  As he put it, "We still aren't sure you have your medications right yet, so how can you expect the therapy to be helpful if you're not reacting to it the way you should."  So now I'm a double therapy patient and trying already trying to figure out a way to stop it in the future.

Now, back to the nerve stimulator.  I have actually had several opportunities to test it out.  I went to the state fair for the first time in 3 years with my son and granddaughter on the 1st of the month.  My first problem was walking.  Pain started in my leg about an hour in.  I pulled out my trusty remote control and bang, pain gone.  But a funny thing happened after the pain went away.  As I continued walking, my leg started dragging, my pace slowed way down.  Just like it would do if my leg actually hurt.  On my next doctor's appointment, I talked to the device manufacturing rep about this, and he actually said it was normal.  Normal?  It seems that although there is no pain, some of the physical reactions to pain will remain.  I've found the same strange phenomena with my abnominal pain.  Although there is no actual pain, I sometimes will start tossing and turning for no reason.  It's like I hurt and my body's looking for a comfortable position.

Now, I hate to complain about this weird twist.  I mean the pain is gone, but it's annoying.  I'm hoping once I become more active, I won't notice it as much.

And join me in my good news.  I am now totally weened off my fentanyl patches.  Thank you!  Next we'll try to reduce the oxycontin, but because I've got one area of breakthrough pain the device hasn't worked on yet (they're still adjusting the device hoping they can get it to work), the doctor isn't holding out much hope they'll get me totally off the oxycotin.  But they're happy they've already reduced my pain meds by 50%.  For them anything from here on out is icing on the cake.  I'm not sure yet I feel the same.  I was so hoping to get all the way off the oral pain meds.  Plus, they've given me percocette back (after taking it away in March) to handle that breakthrough pain until they can get the device to handle it.  I haven't taken any so far because I tend to avoid situations that will cause the pain, but I have it.

Slowly but surely, we're getting to our goal.  I'm going to put together a new post on retroperitoneal fibrosis soon for my RF readers.  I've been learning some new things lately that apply to my case; things my doctor has been dismissing, and I want to make sure everyone who need to know what's up with our strange symptoms actually does know.

Until then.....

I'm not exactly sure when I started having these feelings, but it seems they've been with me my entire life.  My natural father left my life the minute he and my mother divorced, never making any effort to see me except the one time his family was getting together and he thought it might benefit him to show his great fatherly skills.  Then again when I was about 13, he tried to come back into my life, but it had been over 10 years since he'd been around by then and I had no clue who the man was. 

My mother thought I should try to reconnect with him.  I know she meant well, but it just didn't come together.  The only thing that came from it was I learned my bio-Dad was a liar and, well, that wasn't a characteristic I really wanted in a parent.  One more effort on his part when I was 18 or 19.  He showed up out of nowhere at my place of employment.  I have no idea how he knew where I worked.  I rather suspect my mother again, but she would never admit it.  I could never understand what it was this man wanted from me.  We hadn't lived in the same state since I was 5 years old and I could count the times I'd seen or talked to him on my fingers (no toes required).  But for some reason (guilt maybe) he seemed to have this need to bounce into my life every few years once I was grown.

He tried to make it my mother's fault that we had no relationship, but if my mother had her way, we'd have been best buddies.  My mother was a true believer in the value of family, regardless of differences.  She felt there was no one who could or would be there for you like family.  The woman is a true dreamer, that's for sure.  I think her desire to have me stay connected with my bio-Dad came from the stepfather she had chosen for me.  That relationship started when I was 8 years old, and I must say I was excited about having a dad in my life, but unfortunately, it didn't work out exactly the way I thought.  My stepdad and I would have a love/hate relationship for 20 years, until he and my mom divorced.

I think my stepdad wanted to have a good relationship with me, but he never could understand the relationship I had with my mom.  It started early on when he started kidding around with me because my mom still tucked me into bed at night.  Now, at 8 years old, I didn't think this was a big deal, but apparently it was, so it didn't take long before I made her stop.  She was embarrassing me in front of this man who was going to teach me about being a man.  I couldn't have that.

My teenage years were pure hell, but that's to be expected.  My poor mother tried to referee, but stepdad and I were determined to make her life and each other's as miserable as we could.  I probably could have done better, but I always knew my mom would be there no matter what, and she was.  I know she was happy, though, when I came out of those days and returned to the lessons she had taught me.  But I had done a lot of damage and I doubted I could ever live the life she wanted for me.  I'd just have to live the best life I could.

In my 20's, stepdad and I started coming back together and it was really like having a real dad.  I think it had a lot to do with the birth of my daughter.  He actually told me how proud he was of me a few times.  I was liking this father/son time.  But then he started spiraling out of control dealing with his own demons.  I could see it happening.  I knew my mom could see it happening.  She tried so hard to deal with it, but in the end, she gave up.  I understood.  It was either him or her and she just wasn't willing to go down with him.  As it was, she lost almost everything she had ever worked for.

But it was just a divorce, right?  Divorces happen all the time.  I wasn't ready for it's impact on me at age 28.  After 20 years of having a father, I suddenly found myself abandoned again.  It was like I had never existed.  Even my daughter seemed to fall off his radar.  I thought he considered me his son, but I guess I was wrong.  I think what hurt me most of all was that my mother continued her relationship with my stepsister and her children.  Family is family.  That's mom's motto.  She would never abandon someone for something as minuscule as a divorce.  But not stepdad.  No, as far as he was concerned, I no longer existed in his life.

Then, if that wasn't bad enough, I found out he was seeing my ex and my daughter.  So, it was just me that didn't matter anymore.  I know I'm suppose to be a big, strong man, but come on people.  What exactly did I do in my life that I'm so easily expendable to the men who come into my life?  Is there something about me I'm missing?

My mom likes to ask me to vent my anger, to talk to her about the pain in my life.  She worries about my anger issues.  She worries that I'm not happy.  I know she just wants to help.  I'm so lucky to have her as a mom.  She's the one thing I know for sure won't ever leave me, but some days, I just want to ask her why she can't choose a man who knows how to love the way she does.  The only good thing I've heard from her in the last 5 years, since the divorce, is that she'll never get married again.  I hope she holds to that.  Not just for her, but I'm not sure I could take it either.

I had to give some thought to the phases we had gone through to come to this point.  It starts the same way for each of us and most likely we get to the same place at the same time.  You would think having a clear understanding of the process, we could avoid it.  But it's such a natural part of human nature, there's truly not much we can do.

It starts in infancy.  The parent perhaps starts with a minor hand slap to keep the baby from hurting themselves or someone (something) else.  Or maybe the baby is putting something in their mouth that will choke them or make them sick and Mom or Dad pulls it away with a jerk.  Whatever the action, the baby won't like it and so will begin hiding the offending behavior.

From there, we progress to those wonderful toddler years when the word "no" becomes the focal part of the vocabulary.  By this time, our children have learned a lot about discipline, particularly that they don't like it one bit, and will do anything to avoid it.  "Did you make this mess?"  "No, Mommy.  I didn't do it."  Of course, Mommy already knows the answer to the question before she asks, so appropriate discipline is dished out anyway.

But we see by this stage that our child's thinking process has evolved.  They now understand the connection between behavior and discipline.  Occasionally, the story they weave to avoid the punishment works, so they begin working on developing those stories.  But the reasoning remains the same....the child must avoid discipline at all costs. 

With abstract thinking developing at a manic pace, we enter the school years.  Avoidance of discipline is still a major issue, but our child is now discovering more about the world around them and is trying to make sense of it all.  Imagination begins playing a major role in their development and they have more questions than answers.  All that brain activity often leads to strange conversations like this one.

"Who made this mess?"

"I think a squirrel came in the window and made the mess, Mommy."

"Squirrels do not come in windows and make messes.  I think you made this mess and I know you are going to clean it up."

"But, Mommy, I didn't make the mess.  Maybe it was the little boy next door who came in and made the mess."

"Any why, pray tell, would the little boy next door come into your room and make such a mess."

"Because his mommy doesn't let him make messes in his room and he wanted to make a mess somewhere.  So he sneaked over here when we weren't looking and went in my room and made a mess.  Then when we weren't looking again he sneaked back out and went home.  So now his room is all clean and mine is all dirty.  That's what probably happened.  Don't you think so, Mommy?"

"No, I don't think so.  Clean up this room!"

This progression brought me to a strange conversation with this same child, now age 10, on a car ride just the other day.  I'm not sure how we got on the subject of hair.  It probably had something to do with my constant complaining that she doesn't brush hers enough. 

"I've seen people with hair all the way down to their feet."

"Yes, honey.  There was a singer when I was younger who had hair like that.  I never could understand how she held her head up.  That hair had to be very heavy."

"Oh, yeah.  Well, I saw someone who had hair past their feet.  It was dragging on the floor."

"I can't imagine why someone would want their hair dragging on the floor.  You'd think it would get dirty, wouldn't you?"

"Well, it doesn't really.  But the woman with the longest hair in the world had 15 feet of hair!  And the man with the longest hair only has 2 feet of hair."

Long pause.  How do I want to handle this situation.  It's now obvious she's just trying to show she knows something I don't know, but I'm pretty sure she's wrong.  However, in the one instance, I can't really prove she's wrong, so is this worth getting into an argument about.

"I'm pretty sure I could show you a man with more than 2 feet of hair.  That's not really very much hair.  In fact, your hair is probably 2 feet long and you know you've seen men out there with longer hair than you have."  Ok, that one went well.  She's not responding, but she's not arguing with me either.

"And, well, I think I'd have to see the woman with 15 feet of hair before I'd believe it."

Nothing.  No argument, no defiance, no nothing.  A quick change in the subject and we move on to something else.

Yes, the evolution of lying is an interesting one and we're still in the innocent years of lying.  But if she can blurt it out now so easily, where am I going to be when she hits her teenage years just 3 short years from now.

I used to have a sense of humor.  I think I still do, but for some reason, I don't use it much in my writing.  I'm not sure why because people love humor in their reading material.  Just look at the number of bathroom books, joke books, heck, even celebrity books, being sold each year.  We love to  laugh and we look for things to help us laugh in everything we do.

Well, I'd like to get back to the funny side of my life and I think writing is the best way to do it.  What I don't think is I can take on is a novel based on a humorous subject.  That may be a little more than my ability can take on right now.  But what I'm thinking is, it might be fun to use my blog to write some short stories based on more humorous subjects.  What do you think?

I'd love to have your opinion.  I can't say that every blog I write would be a short story.  I still have people who look to me for information on retroperitoneal fibrosis, bi polar disorder and disabiity in general and I enjoy writing tidbits about my family which I hope people enjoy, but I think it could be fun to turn my blog into a source for short stories.  If I get good enough at writing them, perhaps I could put them together into a single anthology and release them as a book.  Or maybe I could gain enough confidence in humor writing to take on a novel.

I know writing funny isn't easy, so don't expect too much too soon.  Give me your critiques.  Tell me what you think I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong.  I'd love to have teachers who are the final users of my product.  For now, tell me if you think this is a good idea and what advice you might have for me to help me get started.  I can't wait to hear your comments.

Until later.....

It's been a slow July for me in the writing department.  That's pretty much the life of a writer.  Sometimes the words don't come easly, sometimes not at all.  I've written a couple posts this month, but nothing I'd write home about. I've written more because I felt my readers needed an update on what was happening.

But this week, I feel my life is turning a corner once again.  So much has happened, and all of it positive.  First of all, I went to my sister's pig roast on Saturday.  If you recall, I was a bit hesitant to go due to some family disagreement that I happened to be in the middle of, but when Saturday came, my granddaughter was so anxious to go to see her cousins, I couldn't even consider not going.  It turned out to be a wonderful day.  Everyone turned out, the food was great, and although the heat was the worst it had  been this summer, there were nice tents up where you could get some shade and an occasional breeze to make it bearable.  I spent time in conversation with my stepmother who I know was none to happy with me 1 1/2 years ago and it was pleasant.  It's a funny thing, but I always do enjoy talking with her.  We've always had our differences, but she is a pleasant conversationalist most of the time and right now, she's enjoying retirement in good health and wants to share her happiness with everyone.  The only thing that could have made the day better would have been if I could have stayed longer.  I had a prior engagement to do a book club review that forced me to leave the roast long before I would have liked.

Monday was my monthly appointment with my therapist, also a positive event.  We talked about my future, getting back to work, how the new device was working and how things had gone on Saturday.  My therapist is an interesting lady.  It's not unusual for us to spend as much time talking about her issues as mine.  I think this happens because we're the same age and have experienced some of the same things over the course of our lives.  She reminds me that I need to accept my lot in life and quit fighting against what my  body and mind are telling me, but I find that very hard to do. It always seems to me that if I give up on getting my life back, the chance it will ever happen goes to nil.  It's a fine line people on disability have to walk...understanding our limitations without losing out desire to achieve our goals.  But as I always do, I left her office feeling more positive about my situation and determined to me more patient about my recovery.

On Wednesday, it was something new and different.  I was going to see an orthopedist for the arthritis in my left hand and shoulder.  I wasn't sure why I was seeing an orthopedist instead of a rheumatologist, but, hey, if my family doctor thought an orthopedist could do the job, who was I to argue at this point.  I think I already knew we were catching this early, which was the first thing the doctor told me when he looked at the xrays.  Then he gave me the good news that we weren't dealing with rheumatoid arthritist  but with the old standard osteoarthritis.  Then the even better news that the pain in my shoulder wasn't arthritis at all,  but a problem with inflammation in my rotator cup.  This was something I had dealt with years ago when my ex-husband thought it might be funny to throw me out of a golf cart when the sprinklers came on, so I thought this could be dealth with easily.  I got an injection in my shoulder and then set up an appointment for physical therapy which began today.

And today might have just been the best day of the bunch.  I met with my physical therapist and we got a start on a program of exercises to help deal with the pain and stiffness in my left extremity.  She was sensitive to the issues with my retroperitoneal fibrosis, the new nerve stimulator and my years in bed, but felt strongly if we started off slowly, she would get me back in shape and help a lot with the grip in my left hand.  I'd really like to have use of my left hand back because it affects my writing.  It's hard to get on a writing roll when you know your hand is going to stiffen up long  before you're ready to stop.  Everything she had to say today was positive and she reiterated that she felt we had caught everything early and this was going to be key in getting me back to normal.  I can't wait!

As for the electronic nerve stimulator, I'm waiting to go back to the doctor on the 9th because I have questions on how this thing is suppose to actually work.  I'm finding it a bit difficult to find a setting that works when I have breakthrough pain in my lower back.  And with more weening to come in the months ahead, something has to give.  What I'm finding is that when I turn it up enough to get to the lower back pain, the vibration in the upper back is so intense, it's actually painful.  That seems to defeat the purpose.  Luckily, so far I haven't had to use it often enough for it to be a problem, but I want to get ahead of it before it becomes one.

So as you can see, things are moving along.  I'm still taking my granddaughter to the water park once a week when we have her.  This weekend, we're heading to The Ohio State Fair, one of my favorite places of all time.  I've missed going the past few years because of my health, but I'm giving in to a wheelchair this year to make it easier on everyone.  Hey, sometimes you gotta do what ya gotta do.  I hope all of you are having a great summer and lots of good news as well.  I'm looking forward to getting back to some regular blog posting in August, hopefully on some lighter topics.  I think we're all ready for a good laugh.

Until later.....

Saturday I'm going to attend a family get together.  No big deal, right?  Well, maybe not with my family.  For one thing, I'm at the center of a family conflict, which I absolutely hate.  You see, I don't think there's anything that important in life that it should keep family members from talking to each other, but I apparently crossed a line that upset at least three of my family enough that they haven't spoken to me for almost  1 1/2 years now.

Which brings me to my other concern about the event.  I hate conflict!  I don't like to argue, especially with my family and I don't like to see other people arguing.  I'm a true believer in fixing things through healthy discussion.  If everyone just talks about how they feel and are willing to listen to the other's point of view, any disagreement can be resolved.  Sure, sometimes the resolution is to agree to disagree, but it is what it is.

Maybe I should tell you a bit about my family to give you a better idea why this cookout is a bit scary for me.  You see, for years we've actually been referred to by our parents as two separate families.  Family #1 consists of myself and 5 of my brothers, the offspring of my mother.  Family #2 consists of my 2 sisters and 3 more  brothers who are the offspring of my stepmother.  My mother passed away in a car accident in 1967 before my stepmother entered the picture, and that event created a natural line of demarcation.  Children born to my father before and after my mother (my view) or from wife #1 and wife #2 (my father's view).

Without my mother in the picture, and with a natural affinity towards non social behavior, it's been difficult to keep the family in contact.  Even though most of us live here in Columbus, we generally only get together once a year when someone is willing to host one of these events.  And even then, getting everyone there is next to impossible.  With all the nieces and nephews and now the next generation coming fast and furious, well, you can imagine the effort it would take.  You just have to give in, pick a day and hope enough of the mob will care about seeing each other to show up.

Now, generally speaking, the 10 surviving children get along well.  We've overcome the stigma of Family #1 anf #2 and enjoy each other's company.  On an individual basis, I continue to see several of my brothers on a regular  basis, but since my health has deteriorated, I seldom am the one to bring everyone together anymore.  Having been that person in the past, it's been hard for me to watch the family drift apart while no one picked up the reins.  So I am elated to have my sister making the effort this year.  It's not an easy feat and I have to applaud her.

The problem is that my conflict is with that side of the family.  In fact, it's with the three females on that side of the family.  The sister who is hosting the event assures me she would rather see me than deal with the silliness of the affair and I not only believe her, I'm so happy to hear it because I do miss being around her.  But the other two....well, I just don't know what to expect.  The one thing I don't want to happen is for any conflict to ruin the effort that is being made.  But these are the things of family, aren't they?  And with one the size of ours, I have to wonder we haven't had more conflicts like this over the years.

So, I'll put my best face on and attend the event.  No mention of the affair that caused the conflict. I just want to spend a little time with my brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews and see all the new babies.  And hope my recovery from surgery doesn't cut my day too short.  We shall see how it goes.

Until later....

Ok, I'll admit there are things I'm naive about.  Sometimes I think it's because I choose to be naive because I'm not a stupid nor uneducated person.  But when I received my hospital bill yesterday, I just about....well let's just say if I'd done what I was about to do, I would have needed a quick shower and a load of laundry done.

I've only had 3 surgeries in my adult life:  a D&C when I was 21, my retroperitoneal fibrosis surgery in 2001 and now this implantation of the electronic nerve stimulator.  I don't remember what the bills looked like for the RPF surgery, but it was much more extensive than this surgery and it was done to deal with a condition that was threatening to kill a kidney.  So I'm pretty sure it wasn't cheap, but I've apparently blocked it out or I wouldn't have been so shocked by this bill.

I think the hospitals and doctors take advantage of people with insurance, and we let them do it.  When was the last time any of you with insurance asked your doctor how much something would cost before you made a decision to have it done.  I know I don't because I know my insurance will pay it.  Oh, sure, I'll get some little piddly bill for what the insurance doesn't cover that I'll pay $25 or $50 a month on until it's paid off, but that's really it.  In fact, since I've been disabled, there hasn't been a month since I haven't paid between $50 and $200 a month out to various doctors and hospitals.  I thought it might be interesting to take a look at what I still owe everyone.  Another shocker!  I've got a long way to go before I'm even close to having my doctor bills paid off.  And I have insurance!

I was talking to my ex the other day.  He has no insurance and has been facing a major abnominal surgery for months now.  He had gone to see a specialist about the surgery and I called to see how the appointment had gone.  Now, he asked how much his surgery would cost and the answer he got was "Enough to keep you destitute for the rest of your life."  Now there's a great answer for a sick person.  Of course, he had already filed for financial aid from the hospital and both surgeons work for the hospital, so he won't have separate doctor bills to deal with, but still. he's looking at a chunk of change.

We hear it every day on TV, we read about it in magazines and newspapers, even see it on the internet...health care is out of control and just unavailable for a large number of people in this country.  When I get a bill in the mail that shows me that the cost of a little electronic device that was implanted into my back is over $70,000, I have to ask myself what in the world is going on?  I mean really, it doesn't cost $70,000 to manufacture the thing, and the basic concept seems simple, so how much research did it really take?  And how much of the research was sponsored by government funding anyway?  On what planet does this company think they can justify charging $70,000 for a litte electronic device?  Why, on this one, of course.  And not just this planet, but this little corner of the planet because I would bet I could go to another country and get the device a whole lot cheaper.

I know there's a lot of conflict on the health care issue and I'll be the first to admit, I don't have a clue what the answer is, but something has to be done, and soon.  People should be able to get the care they need without looking at "destitution" as their future.  Money should be no object when it comes to the care of our fellow citizens.  I know each and every person reading this knows of at least one person who is going with needed health care right now because of money issues.  It's an embarrassment to our country that we spend so much money providing health care to 3rd world nations when we can't even provide the same standard of care right here.  Let's see if we can come together in my lifetime and fix this problem.  I'd love to think my granddaughter will be able to live a full and healthy life regardless of her income.  How about you?

Until later.....

If you've read my blog much over the past couple years, you know I've spent the last 3 1/2 years pretty much in bed.  I don't understand all the reasons I stay in bed.  Sometimes it's because of pain, sometimes depression, but more and more it seems to be because I don't have anything to do.

The wonderful thing is that for the first time in that 3 1/2 years, I'm actually feeling bored and lonely.  I want to get up.  I want to see people.  I want to re-enter life.  So what's the issue?  It just doesn't seem to be as easy as I thought it would be.

For one, I just had surgery and I'm now extremely limited in my movements.  I spoke to the doctor yesterday about how strict he was going to be about this moving around thing, and for the next month at least, very strict.  I thought I was getting my stitches out yesterday, but I have to wait another month for that too.  Until those stitches come out, I'm still healing and any extreme bending, twisting, turning or reaching can cause them to pull.  So, take it easy and don't overdo anything.

But that doesn't mean the month has to be a waste.  I have already started programming my mind for the new me.   Because the other issue I have with getting out of bed is this messsge I've been feeding myself all this time that I can't or shouldn't get out of bed.  Even if there is cause, when your brain continues receiving the same message day after day, it soon develops a little roadmap and that's the road it will always take.  It takes a lot of reprogramming to develop optional pathways for your brain to consider.  So I've started visualizing myself getting up and doing things around the house, running errands, even in some cases, working at a job (even though this is way in the future).  I'm hoping by the time these stitches come out, getting up will seem as normal to me as it is to all of you.

I'm getting totally bored with television.  I mean, television has been one of my main sources of entertainment for all this time.  It had become such a big part of my life that I would schedule the few things I did do around what was on television when.  I think it's another positive sign that regular tv bores me.  I'm watching more and more of the movies I missed and fewer and fewer NCIS reruns.

And although this issue isn't necessarily positive to the people I'm talking to, it's a huge positive to me.  I'm actually talking on the phone more and less of the conversation revolves around my health.  I'm sure you all have experienced that person who has little outside contact with the world (say stay at home moms) and when they get within reach of another adult, they just can't shut up.  Well, that's me right now, but bear with me for this too shall pass.

There are still a couple issues I need to overcome before getting out of bed every day will become a habit again.  First I have to evaluate what my stamina limits actually are.  I've blamed a lot of my fatigue on the pain meds I've been taking, but as the doctor has been reducing them, I'm not seeing an increase in energy levels yet.  I suspect I'll have to rebuild my stamina over a period of time, but I have to hope and pray that the fatigue is not the result of my body being in a constant battle with my retroperitoneal fibrosis.  When you have a chronic auto immune disorder, your body must fight it off with everything it has and after 11 years of battling this illness, I'm not sure how much fight I have left.  This is one of my unknowns, but we'll see soon enough.

The other unknown factor is my bi-polar disorder.  My therapist and I have discussed the "perfect storm" that was my life when the depression hit.  I had given up my business. watched my marriage disintegrate, lost my house and my ability to do my job.  If I had had to deal with any one of these issues alone, I would have probably been fine, but having them all converge at the same time was more than my controlling brain could handle.  Well, all of these things still exist and I still don't have control over most of them, so I'm going to have to work harder to get myself back together and accept the new me and my new life.  Sometimes things just can't be the way they used to be and you have to find a way to move on.  Now that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, it's time to figure out how to get there.

If you're wondering why I chose to write about all of this today, there are a couple reasons.  First, it helps me to reaffirm my commitment to myself to achieve these goals.  It's always better to write goals down because then you have them right in front of you at all times.  But there's another reason, too.  I know many of my readers have experienced the same issues I have, and I want you all to know you're not alone.  We're all working towards our own recovery and sometimes, just knowing there's someone else out there is enough to get you started on your own path.  I hope this helps.

Until later.....

Aahh!  I'm feeling much better now.  I can get out of bed without feeling as if my back is about to rip apart and I actually stood at my sink and rinsed dishes the other day.  Of course, with the no bending rule, my son and granddaughter were charged with loading the lower rung of the dishwasher, but I got them rinsed.

I've been sitting on the patio in the mornings when I let the dog out at her scheduled 6 am and 8 am outings.  I never realized how tight she keeps her morning ritual until the last few days when getting out of bed to let her out became a major event.  But the weather's been so nice in the morning, we've had a nice quiet time together while she empties herself onto my lawn.

My new electronic nerve stimulator seems to be working just fine.  I had a little snafu on Sunday when I decided to charge the device.  You see, when you take the charging device off the charger, it's suppose to start beeping in search of the implanted device.  Well, it never started beeping.  I finally called the 800 service number and learned, much to my total embarrassment, you actually have to turn the darn thing on before it starts beeping.  It always amazes me the little details people leave out when telling you how to use a device (like to turn it on and where the button to turn it on is), but for the second time with this surgery, I had to take a look at how hard I listen to instuctions without figuring out some things on my own.  I mean, really, does someone need to tell you to turn something on before you use it?  Apparently with me, the answer is yes.

I had a little bout with restless leg syndrome and that was my first test of the device.  If you've never had restless leg syndrome, it's hard to describe, but suffice to say you get this pain and tingling (usually behind your knee into your calf) that makes it impossible to hold your leg still.  I've had it for years and at times in the past, I've been known to walk my house for hours trying to get rid of it so I could go to sleep.  Well, I decided to see if this little device could handle the challenge.  I turned it up until I could just barely feel the pain spot and waited.  Sure enough, no jerking left and the pain eased away until I couldn't feel it either.  Success!

Once the incision pain started to subside, I noticed a feeling I'd describe as a very deep bruise at the site where the device was implanted.  It wasn't excruciating, but I thought it might be another good test for the device.  Since this was an ongoing pain, I decided to find a setting that seemed to ease the pain and leave the device at that level permanently.  Again, success!  The pain is under control.

We still have to wait to see how it handles my chronic retroperitoneal fibrosis pain, which we won't know until I'm weened off all the oral medication, but I like how things are progressing thus far.

Now that I'm feeling better, I'm looking to get busy again.  Since I'm limited in physical activity for some time to come, I'll have to depend on my writing, editing and review work to keep me busy.  So I'm going to appeal to my readers.  If you are a writer who either needs an editor or someone to review your book, I'm available.  I have one book I'm reading now for review purposes, but nothing in the wings once that's done.  I do belong to a group that reviews books monthly for one another, but I could take on a couple more if you're looking to get those all important reviews posted on Amazon or Barnes & Noble.  Plus, remember, I edit at a cost well below the going rate, and I love doing my edit work, so if you're looking, I'm available anytime for that type of work.

So, if you or someone you know is looking for an editor or a reviewer, just drop me a note at cheryl@c-a-morgan.com.  Include a file of the document you want me to work on and I'll get to work.  Oh, and if you're willing to exchange reviews (you know, I'll review your  book and you'll review mine), that would me much appreciated.  Since my newest book, "The Brothers Lewis: A Journey to Redemption", was just released, I do need to get some reviews posted.

Until later.....

It's finally over!  Yesterday I ventured into Dublin Memorial Hospital for a day surgery to implant the electronic nerve stimulator that claims it will remove my need for oral pain medications.  Being as I've only had two other surgeries as an adult (and one of those was over 30 years ago), I really didn't know what to expect, but overall, I thought I was ready.

I did run into a bit of a problem with the anesthesiologist.  You see, when they called to do the pre-registration, no one bothered to tell me not to eat or drink after midnight.  When the doctor sent me the information about the surgery, there was nothing telling me not to eat or drink after midnight.  Now, being a person who is constantly thirsty, I always have a Diet Coke within reach, so when he asked me if I'd had anything to eat or drink, I, of course, said  yes.  I knew immediately this was not the answer he wanted to hear.  The conversation that followed bordered on heated as he tried to determine exactly what time I had drank how much, then insisted I should have known better and that someone had most certainly told me the rules.  Now if you know me at all, which my son who was sitting right there does, you know that I wasn't intimidated one bit and held my own.  I think my son almost felt sorry for the anesthesiologist!  But because I had broken the rules, I had to get an extra concoction of medicines so anything that might still be in my stomach didn't decide it wanted to come up and make a visit into my lungs during the surgery.  It wasn't a good start to the day.

I don't remember anything about the surgery although they said they would be waking me up during the procedure to make sure the device was implanted correctly and working properly.  If they did that, which I assume they did, I sure don't remember.  All I remember is the nurse gave me a shot to relax me and then I was waking up and everything was done.  I felt groggy,  but fine.  Since I hadn't eaten all day (except for that pesky Diet Coke) I was hungry, so after my son dropped me off at home , he went out for food.  Except for feeling the after affects of the anthesthesia, I felt fine.

My box wasn't on, and although I didn't feel the need for it, I decided I might as well test it out, so I played with my remote control a bit.  I had strict orders not to bend, stoop, twist, turn, reach or really to move at all for 3 months.  Yeah, right!  I found out real quick just how much bending I do.  I have to bend to let the dog out and to feed her and the cat, bend to take pants off and put pants on, reach to take shirts off and on.  You don't realize how much you use your body until someone tells you you can't.  So I took time to remind my son that he would have to take on more of these responsibilities until I healed.  I promised if he would do everything else, I wouldn't make him dress me.  I don't think he's ready to take that on quite yet in his life.  I'm sure the day will come, but let's not make it today.

All was going well, and then it started downhill.  First, I took my antibiotic at 2 am without eating.  The nausea came fast, but I managed to keep everything down by just going to sleep and letting it pass.  Then I woke up today to a whole different world.  The pain from the incisions was terrible.  I couldn't move in any direction without pulling on stitches and it has been like that all day.  I think this may have been the surgeon's way of making sure I didn't do any of that bending or reaching because I sure as heck can't do it now.  Just watching me get out of bed to go to the bathroom has to be major entertainment for my son and granddaughter.  I think I even heard the dog laughing the last time I tried to get up.

But this is what having surgery is all about.  I know this is not near as bad as the abdominal surgery I had in 2001 and I'm sure I'll heal much quicker.  It's all a matter of time now.  I'll heal up, continue the weening from my oral pain meds and then we'll give this little implant a real test.  In the meantime, I can now officially set off the machines at the airport and get away with it.

Until later.....