Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Like losing everything

I didn't know that I was going to be so changed by this summer.  I didn't see the heartbreak that was looming or the walls I was gonna hit.  In fact, I thought that I was on the verge of all my dreams coming true; I thought it was gonna be THE EASY YEAR.

But that is the difference between March and November, yes?  By November you know what will have hit you during the year...although there are always days left for more surprises, I suppose.

I lost things this year.  I lost the dream of a kiddo and I lost my best friend.

But I also lost my inability to stand up for myself.  And I lost my belief that I couldn't live without any of those things.

So, the real question is....

Can I live without diet coke?

Only time will tell. ;)

Monday, November 2, 2015

Like half harvested fields

A few weeks ago I drove down to spend the weekend with my mother-in-law.  She was awaiting some test results at the time and I wanted to be a distraction for her.  It seems, now, that the test results are not so good, though.  She is tight lipped and won't give many details.

I guess I'm just glad I went down there, is all. 

True Cost

My guy said that maybe I should start posting again 

This is all I got. 

maybe more next time.
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Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Just Write

Ben's alarm rang out from the living room, so loud and insistent, and I wondered, again, why he does that... put it in the other room but then blare it?  It is so not what I would do.  But there you go.

He scurried out the door earlier than me today, which is so unusual, muttering about getting a sandwich for breakfast to test the theory that his everyday smoothie is giving his colon trouble.  I sat bundled on the couch for far too long, sucked into the endless commercial breaks of the Today show.

By the time I had dragged myself into work it was time to go to Tim's practice job talk, coming out of order after his practice chalk talk yesterday.  I scurried in one minute before my boss and grabbed a chair against the back wall, like I often do, instead of around the table like the other lab members.  Always an outsider, a tech, a wet bench lady.  Not grad student, not post doc, not computational.  Outsider.

The talk was long, leaning towards 2 hours by the time I snuck out to get lunch and get my PCR started and I thought a bit as I closed the door gently behind me that I don't know why I even bother going.  There is so little I understand in all of the computer models and simulations and theoretical work they present and so little that I contribute.  Actually, I never contribute anything.  I sit and nod and try to follow and look inquisitive and dream of a job where I care about the research and understand it and am valued.

With lunch in hand I plopped down in my chair, clicked on the UofM jobs site and searched, "Full time Jobs."

Tuesday, January 1, 2013


Yesterday I felt filled with dread at this new year.  All I could think of was all the trials of 2012 and how hard and long it seemed.  I muttered to myself, "Good riddance!".   Then I remembered that that is what I said as 2012 was dawning, still so sick from just being released from the hospital. 

Is this what I will say every year from now on?  Is this how my life is going to go from now on?

Not the most hopeful or cheerful of thoughts.

I had no hope for this year, truly. 

But then I woke up this morning and as I stumbled out to the living room and looked out the window at the lake I saw this...

and I felt filled with hope.  The clear skies after so many weeks of rain here in the PNW, the frost on the rooftop of my neighbor's house, the crisp air I could practically smell through the glass panes - it all contributed and the world looked fresh and washed and NEW. 

And what more could one hope for in a new year?

Monday, December 31, 2012

Like muddling through

The internet is full up with reflective posts about this last year.  All the things that have been done and accomplished.  Some nods to the difficulties, lots of nods to the lessons learned so the tests don't still have the same sting. 

I'm sitting in the middle of the test, though.  As the new year clicks over we are supposed to be planning our move back to the midwest but instead I am whipping up elemental shakes for my love and praying on the bathroom floor that his flare dies down.  I am buying goat milk kefir in hopes that it will help and tabulating just how much we are spending in probiotics this month in an attempt to keep the strong meds at bay.  And in two days I am myself due for an infusion and can feel the inflammation clawing at my descending colon, screaming for I know not what.  What do you want, dear body?  How can I help?  Please, tell me, I will do it.

So the dark of winter feels very tangible right now. 

I thought of putting together my list of things I have accomplished in 2012 but it feels like a big long lump of time just spent getting over the shock of having been hospitalized last Christmas.  It feels like I jumped somehow from January to December, all those months in between slipped right past me in my efforts to survive the year. 

Yesterday I clung to Ben as I cried.  I just want ONE YEAR with no one sick!  Is that too much to ask??  I ranted.  

I felt like a whiner as I cried to my mom on the phone about Ben being ill.  It isn't like you are whining about some small thing, honey, you guys have been handed a raw deal.   Her words helped and then my mind went instantly to all those who have it worse than we do.  Sure, husband and wife with chronic autoimmune illness is no walk in the park but we have so much to be thankful for. 

But the truth is... I really really want to feel like all the images I keep seeing of people my age out dressed up and celebrating New Year's Eve.  But maybe most people are thinking the same thing.  Maybe those images aren't real?