Saturday, February 26, 2011


Late last night I was rummaging around in my books. I was looking for something to read to help me with my heart. I don't want to be bitter. My anger protects me from crying. When I let myself soften up I just weep. I'm not talking the pretty weep like the movie stars either. I'm talking red swollen eyes snot slinging everywhere sob sob weep.

The truth is that for all I ever learned about helping people cope with life threatening illness or loss or death, feels like a bunch of hogwash when I try and apply it to myself. There is a scripture in the Bible that says, "Each man should not think more highly of himself than he ought." I'm wondering if I was as helpful when I was nursing as I thought I was. I'm sure not doing such a great job with myself.

If I was being my own nurse than I would say my pain is not controlled and my depression is not controlled. Guess what? That is true but there is not a whole lot more that can be done, from both the cost and the treatment options. This is it and I have to learn to cope without alienating everyone in my life.

It's so hard not to be angry and bitter.

I'm sure my friends daughter will want Roman and she's coming back on Sunday. I can't decide if I want to take movies of him or just destroy all the pictures. I love him but I have to make the grown up decision of doing what's best for the dog and what is safest for me. I get determined to do things. Like the last time he was a big mess and we couldn't take him to be groomed. Jen and I did it. I royally killed myself but we got it done. I don't even remember how long I suffered for that. It doesn't help that I know how to groom him and have all the stuff. He is just too much dog for me. Then I wondered if I could have a little dog and I think I would trip on one of those too. My balance is impaired. I have probably never said out loud to anyone that my original fall that got me here was tripping on the dog I think. I'm not sure. I just remember a soft furry feeling under one of my feet before I started going down. It's hard to know in that fresh post op heavily drugged phase. But currently he loves to play and he's 65 pounds and growing. That much playful bump can send me into orbit. But if and when he goes that will be another red eyed snot slinging day.

I think maybe it was Kate who once told me that sometimes a great dog is a once in a lifetime thing.
I'm so stubborn. I sold furniture and all kinds of stuff to buy this puppy and now look where I am.
It seems sometimes I never learn. My friend Susie says, "For a smart girl you can be so dumb." Yeah we are still friends. You should hear some of the stuff I've said to her! Like for instance shopping at Macy's and looking at a pile of panties on clearance. She was looking at them and I picked up a pair and nearly ripped them stretching them as far as the fabric would allow and said, "Do they make them in your size?" After she stomped off and nearly left me forever we made up. That was about 25 years ago.

Made ya laugh didn't I.

Back to books that was going to be the topic. All the books I have in this sea of bindings on "self help" or spiritual comfort etc... are about the pain in your PAST.

What the heck?

Doesn't anyone have anything to say about the present?

After I get this cushion finished. Come hell or high water because I don't feel like doing anything except to go back to bed.
I might go to the library. If not today sometime soon.
Has anyone out there read any good books about coping with pain in the present?


Linda said...

Well, I guess I don't read self-help books. I read the kind that take me away to a place I'd never go on my own. Give me a political thriller any day.

I'm sorry you are still hurting.

Mental P Mama said...

I am going to think about the book thing. And you will cry when Roman goes to his new home. But I feel like it's the best for you both. You need to focus on you. More virtual hugs.

Lola-Dawn said...

Love the new title! i should start a separate blog for MY daily scream from work! Too busy to post this week, but wanted to check in on ya. hugs,

Kat said...

It sounds like Roman should be elsewhere. For you and for him. It is sad, but it must be done. I had to give my beagle to my mom after my second child was born because the dog was just miserable with the kids around. Everytime we would go to my mom's house the dog would refuse to come with us. We would have to physically pick her up. Sassy thing. Finally we said, well if she wants to stay so badly I guess she just should! Still, it made me really sad. Funny thing is, I think she was meant to be there. When my dad got Alzheimer's my mom would bring the dog to the nursing home every day and it made my dad so happy. That dog was very good for my folks. (Long story short, too late, everything happens for a reason)

As far as the book goes, I can't think of any off hand. I really think you should be reading comedies instead. What gets one person through their difficulties sometimes doesn't help another person. Might even tick you off. All I know is that when I am going through a rough spot the last thing I want to do is read about more grief, even if that person transcends it. All I want to do is escape and think about something else. Comedy, I'm telling ya! ;)

Too funny about your friend. I love it! Honesty ! :)

Anyway, I'm glad you are posting more often and getting your feeling out. That has got to help some, and it is so good for you. :)

Thanks for your email too. You are so stinking sweet! :)

Kat said...

And I love that new title! :)

Bluebird49 said...

I'm glad you made the decision about's--I think--the right one. I just don't feel I know anything for sure anymore.

Self-help books were never helpful to me. I guess my hardheadedness is in my DNA. I've let this thing with the nursing home narrow my world and my thinking so much, that I didn't even get to see my next door neighbor before she died--and I have no excuse. none. I even had her hospital room number and could have called the night before surgery--but I was afraid I'd bother her.

I'm sure you --when you were a nurse, Karen--were a good, caring nurse. I know you're second guessing yourself, now, but I can't see you as anything but caring.

I just hate so much what you are going through. I know you have to read about this RDS--and I have read up on it. It doesn't sound like there's any good in reading more. There's no way you can feel any guilt in this--you didn't cause it.

We all get in debt over things--when we look back--were, well, maybe not wrong, but unnecessary.

Looking back? It hurts too much. Looking forward? It hurts too much. And at the moment-we're hurting too much. I know what you mean--about not really looking forward to living. I really do. But I know I have to do it anyway.And so do you.

I just don't know what to say----I'm just praying for you. And I love you. I hope I haven't made it worse by saying all I have.