janis

What to do with yourself?

Saturday night I will be home all alone.  No kids, no hubby.  Just me, myself and I. 

I have no idea what I'm going to do.  Bubble bath?  Read?  Go see a movie?  Give myself a much needed pedicure? 

It's been forever since I've had that much free time that I really have no clue what to do with it.  How pathetic!  HA!

What would you do with 12+ hours all to yourself? 

I know.. I'm a lame blogger

I haven't posted in forever, but damn, there's this thing called life that just keeps getting in the way of my having the time to write here.  Also have to have a brain with which to think of something to write, but I'm lacking in that area as well.  *sigh*

Anyway, I found a blog recently that really just chaps my ass.  I know, click the X in the corner and go away, but I can't.  It's like a trainwreck, you just have to look.  It's written by a conservative woman who believes that gays, birth control, IVF, abortion and just about anything else she can think of is evil.  She has a few posts on IVF and my god, what a mess of misinformation is there.  Did you know we IVFers often have 20-30 eggs each retrieval?  Did you know your sperm is "doctored" up prior to use for fertilization?  Did you know the males collection room is full of "toys?"  "Babies" are "implanted."  When infertiles seek medical care, they are allowing a third party to be involved in the procreation process.  Your doctor impregnates you, not your husband.

Gosh, if you can't get pregnant without medical help, tough shit.  God did not want you to parent.  Well, you could adopt..  There are "orphans" out there for you barren women.  Go get one.  Get out of the doctor's office now!  It's a sin! 

It just bothers me when those who have no fertility issues to try to tell those who do what the "right" way to build a family is. 

Five years

Five years ago today, my 16 year old daughter took her own life.  I'm no closer than I was then, to understanding why.  I can offer vague supposistions, cite a few factors that may have contributed, but over all, I have no idea why she choose to die. 

It hurts like hell, even now.  They say time heals all wounds, but they lied.  Time does not heal anything.  You just learn to live with the shock, horror and pain. 

Marrissa would have celebrated her 21st birthday on December 28th.  Instead of a cake and candles, I stood at her grave in the biting cold and lit off 21 fireworks.  I sang her the happy birthday song.  I left flowers.  And I cried all the way home. 

All I have left is should have beens.  She should have been X years old.  Should have been doing XYZ.  She should be the beautiful young woman she was becoming.  I want to know that young woman, see her, touch her, smell her.  I want to hear her laughter, her singing, her saying anything. 

Five years ago, she walked out the front door knowing she would never be coming home again. 

Five years later, I'm still waiting for the nightmare to end and have her walk through the door.

I miss her.  I miss her so much.

Precious Child

Today is the worldwide candlelighting for all children who have passed away. You light your candle at 7 pm your time and leave it burning for one hour. It creates a 24 hour wave of light in remembrance of all children who have died, regardless of their ages.

Tonight I'll be lighting a candle for my daughter Marrissa who left us almost 5 years ago.

I'm really struggling today with my grief and I am missing her so very much.

Precious Child

Where the hell have I been?

I'm here.  I'm alive and kicking and I am well.  Thriving actually.  We all are. 

It's been busy.  Life had a way of taking over and leaving little room for the little things like writing in a blog.  The kids are doing great.  Lee and I are doing great.  Everything is really wonderful.  How fucking sappy is that?  HAHA

Chloe started her senior year today.  Bethany went into 8th grade.  Jameson has been back in 6th grade for about a month now.  The twins?  Holy cow!  They are growing up so fast.  They will be 4 (!) in a couple weeks!  My god, where does the time go? 

We've gone camping a few times this summer.  Trips with kids, trips without.  I went on a long bike ride with Lee on his motorcycle and a huge group of people from his work and some of our friends.  That was quite the adventure.  Not sure if I liked it or not as it was too long for me.  I think I need to work my way up from little rides to big ones.  I do know that I like the way my ass looks in my chaps though.  So that is a good thing.  *wink* 

I'm switching my meds.  Lithobid (time release for Lithium) to Abilify.  It is making me feel very weepy, like I want to crawl out of my skin as well as some crazy thoughts, but it is normal for med changes so I am trying to endure it in the hopes that the Abilify will be better for me physically as well as mentally.  I was not doing badly on the Lithobid but the side effects were starting to get worse and I wasn't wanting to live with them anymore so I asked for a new med. 

First up was Lamictal.  A good mood stabilizer but it has a very rare and potentially fatal rash that may be a very nasty side effect.  The only treatment for the rash is going off the meds. 

So I tried it.  Within two days, I started noticing a fine rash on my arms and neck.  I was also out camping, in the heat, so I thought it might be heat rash.  Wrong.  After 4 days I figured it out, called my doctor and stopped the meds.  Thankfully the only harm done was me itching like a flea ridden mutt and making myself miserable with scratching it. 

Abilify is going well aside from the fatigue and weepies.  Not sure if it is from the Abilify getting up to therapeutic levels or the lithobid leaving my system.  I only have a few more days on the lithobid so if this continues after wards, I will be calling my wonderful doctor back.

Lee and I are still going to marriage counseling.  We took a little break while doing our trips and our counselor was out of town but will be back in the office shortly.  No huge problems, we just like to go to make sure we are staying on top of things and preventing any issues.  I totally adore our marriage counselor.  He is awesome and helps us both immensely. 

All in all, things in my world are peachy keen. 

I will be trying to write more now that kids are back in school.  But for now I have to go.  The twins are up, full of energy and ready to make the day another whirlwind of chaos and mischief.  Pictures of said howler monkeys on crack will be posted soon. 

Love ya!

I'm alive

I'm breathing, alive, treading water, etc..  I've just felt up to posting much.  I'm still trying to get over the whole mother in law ordeal and her reading my blog.  I took off the password protect, knowing that she would find my blog no matter what I did.  Frankly, I don't care anymore.  If she reads it, she reads it.  If her life is so damn miserable that coming here tickles her fancy, so be it.  It's about the only way she'd learn anything of my family anyway. 

The kids are doing great - aside from Caite.  She has better days and days when I am terrified I'm going to be getting another policeman at the door or a call at 2 am telling me the worst has happened.  She's back on her meds, but checked herself out of a treatment program after only 3 days.  I can't force her to stay, she's 18.  All I can do is buy her meds, pay her therapy bills- when she goes, talk to her and pray that she keeps it together. 

Lee and I are doing well.  A few rough spots here and there but we talk, go to our therapist and work on things.  The sneaky bastard went out and bought the .50 carat diamond earrings I'd been drooling over and then sent me for an hour long massage.  Yes, very nice of him and proof that while we may bicker now and then, he does love me and knows I love him. 

I tried to arrange a secret weekend away for us last weekend.  It all worked out except for someone to stay with the kids.  At the last minute I was able to get someone and off we went.  We had a nice time talking, snuggling - without any kids in bed with us - shopping, eating yummy food and sleeping sans kids in the bed.  He even got in a long soak in a hot bath.  A rarity in this household for anyone over the age of 16.  HA!  We had a nice time and even better - the sitter said she'd be happy to do it again!  Talk about a miracle! 

I can't promise I'll be posting much.  I'll try though.  There's stuff going on I'm not real comfortable writing about here just yet.  Once it's all settled, then I'll be able to write and be more open.  Sorry I can't say more than that. 

Thanks for the emails asking if I am still around.  I am.  Just lying low for a bit. 

Four Years

I'm trying so hard to stay on top of things.  Trying to not let my grief swallow me whole.  Trying to smile even if I don't feel like it. 

Did I say I was doing well with this?  Oh, good, because I'm not.  I'm pissed off and there's not much that is working as far as redirecting my rage. 

Yesterday was four years since my daughter took her life.  Four year and it still hurts like hell.  There were times I seemed to be doing okay and then a panic attack would start and I could barely catch my breath. 

My mother told me about my brother's new girlfriend.  It seems the GF has a daughter who has a friend who knew Marrissa and was given a suicide/goodbye note at school that last day.  I got angry when my mom told me because it just does not add up.  I have a copy of all the notes (3) that Marrissa wrote.  There was a pretty thorough investigation and I'm confident there were no more notes than what I have.  The GF's daughter is 14?  15?  Her friend the same age?  Marrissa would be 20 now.  How would a child of 10-11 get a note from Riss?  Let alone be a student at the same school?  There are a lot of other things that don't add up.

Why am I angry?  Because there are hundreds of kids who now claim to have been Rissa's best friend.  Where the hell where these kids when she was alive?  If they were all such good friends, why did they never call here to talk to her?  Why did we never hear their names?  Simple.  Because they weren't "best" friends.  They may have known her face, her name, but that's it.   

I'm angry that I'm angry.  I'm angry at Rissa.  Angry that she chose to end her life.  Angry that we weren't given one last chance to help her.  Angry at what has been left in the wake of her death.  Angry that there are so many things I will never see her do, never see her become.  Angry that I never got to say goodbye.  Angry that I didn't know the lat things with her were the last.  Maybe I'd have held her a bit longer, kissed her cheek one more time, committed every little detail about her to memory in a way that I'd never lose a speck of what made Marrissa, Marrissa. 

I'm angry that she isn't here to talk to anymore.  I can't hear her laugh.  Can't her her sing.  Can't hear her say anything.

I miss her.  I miss her so fucking much that I don't know if I will ever get through this sorrow.

Damn it Rissy, why did you have to go? 

A couple of pictures.

Here's a picture of the crew.  Livia of course is, as always, the ham.

This is the tree we put up and decorated at Rissa's grave. 

About damn time!

I know.. It's about damn time I posted.  Sorry.  Life has just been crazy as hell.

First off - the mole had pre-cancerous and cancerous cells.  A second biopsy removed the remaining bits of mole and the surrounding tissue.  No melanoma, everything is clean and clear.  Thank god!  My second cancer scare was cleared up with a fun little colonoscopy.  Polyps removed, no cancer.  I have pretty pictures of my innards but rest assured, I'm not about to share those. 

Secondly - my computer took a major shit on me and I had to get a new one.  And since I was getting a new computer I had to get a new desk as well.  To save $200 we assembled it ourselves.  (okay Lee and our son did it I nagged at them to hurry)  Fuck that shit!  Next time, I'm paying the extra money.  So it took over a week to get back on-line again. 

Then the holidays hit.  I finished shopping on the 23rd, wrapping on the 24th.  More joy.

All I wanted for Christmas was for my daughter Caite to come stay Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  It was a very tall order and I held out little hope that she would.  Then I got an amazing Christmas miracle.  Caite not only was home for Christmas, she is now living back at home!  We still have rough patches here and there but we both are working hard at having a healthy relationship. 

Caite also finished rehab right before Christmas.  In order to be released we had to have meetings with the therapist and then do our family confrontations packet in front of the group.  The packets have you list out all your resentments.  (parents each do one as does the child)  Then you list all the things you appreciate.  All the things you love about the person.  Also must list apologies as well as commitments for the future. 

It was very difficult to do and to read in front of everyone else was excruciating.  Hearing the bad things you've done hurts but also opens your eyes.  The whole process does.  I'm glad that part is over. 

We set some ground rules for Caite to come home.  Any deviation of those rules will lead to her having to move out.  We can not go back to how things were.  It is not fair to anyone. 

She is doing very well though.  Working, going back to school on the 24th and should be able to graduate with her class.  She looks better than she has in a long time and is really a joy to be around!

Lee and I are doing well.  Marriage counseling is helping.  It's difficult at times and we often leave pissed off but it really does seem to be helping.  We even have a few laughs now and then.  We have a dinner date tomorrow night that I am really looking forward to. 

Marrissa's birthday was the 28th and there's quite a bit I want to say about the holidays, her birthday and the upcoming 4 year mark of her death.  But I want to do that separately.  The next few days are busy so I may not get to it for a bit.  I will do it though as I have so many thoughts and feelings racing about that I need to get them out. 

The "C" word

While writing about the Big "O" is much more appealing and probably much more exciting to read about, the consonant resounding through our home is not the letter O.  It's  the letter C. 

Lee recently discovered a new mole on my back.  Three months ago, it was not there.  Within that short time it appeared and grew to a size larger than an eraser on a pencil. 

I made an appointment with my doctor to go have a biopsy.  I called yesterday to get the results.  It could be precancerous.  But it borders more on being cancerous than not.  The nurse, god love her, is sweet and funny but a bit on the not so with it side.  She makes things about as clear as mud.  Helpful, no? 

I now have an appointment to go in tomorrow to have the rest of the mole and some surrounding tissue removed and sent to the lab to be tested.  Again.  Such fun!  The last biopsy didn't hurt at all aside from the damn shot to numb the area.  That hurt!  A lot!  I suppose I'll just pop a couple of xanex like the last time and try to relax.  The fun part is that I am scheduled to work tomorrow.  One of my co-workers is covering for a few hours and then I'll go in.  Higher than a kite and looking it as well.  Luckily my boss, if she sees me, will just attribute my condition to my normal ditzy ass self. 

I'm not too worried about it.  Lie.  I am.  I know skin cancer can be pretty minor for the most part.  But I also know it can be lethal.  Years back when I was a Girl Scout Leader I worked often with a lovely young woman with the most beautiful red hair I had ever seen.  She was funny, energetic, witty, and hell on wheels. 

She noticed a mole on her leg, growing quickly and went in to her doctors.  The mole was removed, biopsied and it was cancerous.  Further biopsies showed the cancer had spread into surrounding tissue and muscle.  A lot was cut out, leaving her once shapely leg quite disfigured.  Then she went through Interferon treatment.  She lost all her hair, lost over half her body weight, and nearly lost her life.  She made it.  Barely.  It's been nearly ten years and she is still cancer free. 

This is what scares me.  The rare possibilities.  At times it seems as if my life is one thing after another.  There is never any downtime to just kick back and enjoy life.  If something bad can happen, it will, it seems, happen to me. 

I'm 99% positive I'm okay.  But that one percent is niggling at me.  Everyone in my family who has died aside from my daughter and one great-grandmother has died from cancer.  My grandfather is dying from colon cancer and we just keep praying he won't be in too much pain when it is his time to leave. 

I've joked for years about dying from cancer and how at least, I should die thin.  Somehow, the joke is falling flat now.  I know it's just a mole.  I know this.  I should not be scared.  But I am.  Especially since I did a little research and it seems these little pink bumps I've had for awhile can also be cancerous.  So do I have my doctor take all of them out too?  I'll look like a godamn scarred up mess if I do.  Remember the movie "Nightmare before Christmas?"  The girl in it?  With all the stitches on her body?  Yep, that could be me.  Only not as cute.  HA! 

Then I have a bit of dilemma that may seem even more minor.  I work at a tanning/hair/nail salon as a receptionist.  I check clients in so they can go cook themselves and add to their risk of skin cancer.  Most likely, my issues come from tanning there as well.  The pink bumps, started after tanning.  The moles, yes there are more than one albeit slower growing, started after tanning as well.  So..  How do I keep sending people in to bake themselves into a golden cancerous glow knowing the risks?  Yes, I knew them before, but I "pooh poohed" them away.  How do I turn off my fears and concerns about my own health and go into work?  And even more bizarre, how the hell do I come to terms with never tanning again?  I LOVE tanning!  I love the heat, the relaxation and I swear to god, it helps me so much in the bleak winter months.  It's like a mini vacation to somewhere tropical.  I close my eyes, hit the on button, lay back and I am suddenly on a tropical beach, a tanned god of a young man rubbing warm oil all over my body.  I can feel the breeze, smell the salty air, taste the fruity umbrella drink.  Silly, I know.  But we all have our little fantasies. 

I think that if it weren't for all the cancer in my family, I'd feel a bit better.  My cousin died from brain cancer at 26.  Lung cancer, colon cancer, stomach cancer, breast cancer, ovarian/uterine cancer, you name it, we've pretty much had it.  Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill (bad play on words, I know) but I can't help but be scared.  My life could be every one of Oprah's shows.  For many, many seasons.  I believe that is why I am a bit afraid.  That whole, if it's going to happen and it's bad, it will happen to me self pity thing. 

I'm looking hard at my life and trying to look at all the risky things I do that up my cancer odds.  Tanning?  Check.  Smoking?  Check.  Eating crap foods?  Check.  Putting various known cancer causing agents into my body or on it?  Check.  Do I cut back or eliminate those risks or do I just say fuck it, you only go around once, might as well have one hell of a ride? 

I don't mean to sound so asinine about cancer.  It is a horrid illness.  Far too many die painful, agonizing deaths.  I've seen it with my loved ones.  Seen vibrant people decimated by the ravages of cancer and the treatment that is supposed to cure them.  I've been to the funerals for those who lost the battle.  Cried countless tears.  I had a scare years ago and I was so afraid that rather than take action, I hid from it for nearly two years.  Two years that could have cost me my life.  In the end, I cowgirled up and lost some of my cervix in the process.  Luckily the cancer hadn't spread or gotten worse while I hid my head in the sand. 

No hiding this time, but I think I need to stay away from google for a bit.  There is far too much scary shit on there.  I'm okay, I will be okay.  It's just a stupid mole.  Neurotic episode now over.  Thanks for tuning in.