Friday, March 20, 2015

What to Expect When You've Stopped Expecting


To any new readers, these are old, unposted posts. I have been reading my posts that I never threw out there to the world.
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3/20/2015
Readers, this is an old post (it's from 2013) that I am putting up for you to read! It is easier for me to put my rough drafts out there than come up with new ones. And it helps me to see the progression of my disease.

I am excited for some things and trying to be happy. It's hard when you are sick and things are not well. But it will be okay. Gotta be positive!

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(Photo history- grandkids left their soup and eggs for something more fun to do- play outdoors. )



Nurse Sonda: "Unfortunately we have entered the "second phase" : things are going to get worse before they get better, "  phase.

* Sonda, if you ever read this- you were the most intelligent nurse/assistant to a Dr. I have ever made. Amazing. UofU lost out when you had to move! I wish I could have said good-bye in person!

Just before Sonda said this to me, I'd just put on one of my chandelier earrings, ones that I'd converted into "clip ons" with the help of a craft store.

Normal earrings were causing my ears to break out and I SO wanted to wear earrings! So I went to the craft store and found some ear pinching clasp ka-bobs that take your favorite earrings, that you can't wear anymore due to your allergy to them, and turn them into Grandma clip ons."
Which ended up just making my ears red anyway.

(Already wishing I could at least look like the Queen of England, )


Look at her flawless  pure white skin!

WHITE

That is the color I need to cover up the  big rosy rashes on my face with crohns. Maybe if I start wearing BIG hats like the Royal Family, and a big sport umbrellas it would help to keep the sun off my skin  to get that white.....)

in my young age and and pierced ears but clip-ons on, and in a shirt that would look just as good on Grandma as it does on me, I felt my stomach sink. It's been a lame last 23 hours anyway.

Shin splints have cropped up on my legs for some reason- I only had gotten up to around 150 M&Ms,
 so I chalked it up to the prednisone bone pain. But it's meant soaking my feet in hot water then cold water. Hot then cold. Ice cold.

That was pre-sprain to help with the water retention. (my ankle is somewhere in all that puffy)



It is better than any compression socks, or other options. Don't buy those. They honestly just push the fluid somewhere else. Since Crohns folks can't take anti-inflammatory medications, ice is all we have to help with inflammation.

And, boy, if you take it seriously and devote the 3-4 times a day soaks for 20 minutes each heating point- You will feel relief. But you will have spent all day in the tub or a foot bath which doesn't reach your knees.

Also use LOTS of Vaseline and lotion on your feet/hands afterwards. When you wake, upon standing the skin needs to be as elastic as possible. OR standing on feet that have too much stretched skin over swollen feet- s-p---lit. Yes.... cracks like crazy and oweee. oweee. So go slow. Maybe massage and put your feet up for 15, then stand.


Even though I haven't been playing ANY demanding sports, I've suffered the "injured athlete sentence" of ice water. After ten minutes your legs, or whatever appendages go numb and its okay. But that first 10 minutes of excruciating polar bear marathoner dippers....... wowzers.

Sonda  caught me in the middle of also trying to put on make-up,  run frozen vegetables up and down my shins and coax J into deeper cleaning of his vacuuming of his room (The WHOLE room. UNDER the bed. A feat as difficult as heart surgery, I bet. )

. "mm-hmmmm." was all I could say in response to her analysis of my symptoms.

 my enthused response to Sonda was not typical  and  I faintly heard her as I looked at myself in the mirror across the room deeply wanting a stylist.

She set up appts.while I whined,-- even if they are across town. It's so discouraging to have to go to unexpected appts.You feel it is unnecessary and wish to just go give a blood and urine sample and have them call you in the morning.

We discussed other symptoms, that only one can guess is the cause, I'm sure the meds are the culprit. Like she'd said-' I am in the Second Phase. Which is the equivalent of third trimester for a woman's body- you are a big. Maybe the baby is giving you wicked heart burn. You waddle. Swollen legs. The hardest part is coming--- the worry. the pushing. the baby actually being in your life. It gets worse before it's better. But at least there is a cute baby to cuddle. Or, maybe, you face something devastating- not in the game plan. Like an illness. Or disease.


But this is:


PHASE TWO - or SECOND trimester of Prego Prednisone.

My mind tried to wrap itself around the day's activities, the fact my kitten hands gave out on me last night as I was re-arranging the fridge and Mom's, "just made", still hot, vegetable and roast soup tumbled from the Tupperware and scattered softened carrots and celery, meat and my brain all over and under the appliances- DID NOT HELP.

One more appointment?

Makes me wanna hurl. All I want is for my wrists and ankles. Knees and shins to work and not feel like tooth picks.

Sonda did a great job of empathizing with me, really. She knows the ins and outs of my system better than I do and she let's me know she's sorry it sucks.

I ended up doing different shades of eye shadow on each  eye lid to see what worked. Neither. Stuck the other chandelier- which feels as heavy as a table light fixture, on the other ear.

J:  finished my chores!!

He left to a friend's house.

Went to a friends' house but returned shortly there after.

Me: They weren't home?

J: No, they were.

Me: Doing chores?

J: If I tell you, will you promise not to make me do it?

Me: Mayybeee.

He scrunched his face up in pain and confessed:

"They are doing 'vacation school work' and they have to read."

Me: Well, does that mean that you don't want to read Rahld Dahl's: James and The Giant Peach with me over the spring break?

J: "Well, I guess that's okay." ( IHe'd rather watch Apollo 13 for the 13th time. " (last sentence inserted.)

With the same discouragement, I went into the fam room, sat on the edge of the Tred Mill and walked off an M&M. It took 5 minutes.



I ate a handful over the weekend. I wonder if HERSHEY company would sponsor me somehow?
*(wow. Readers, remember when I would walk on the treadmill and burn off an M&M? Sigh. I am so many M&Ms away from ths moment.)
*

Today was hilarious. Jaden has been set to have a cavity filled and has peppered me with so many q's that I have lost patience with the dental process. The hygienist noticed his really anxious demeanor despite us talking about taking it like a man, and asked me if we'd want to do some laughing gas.

I asked how long he'd be loopy. He asked some q's: "How does it make you feel?"

Hyg- "You just don't worry about anything."

J:" I like not having to worry about anything. Does it actually make you laugh?"

Hyg: In some kids.

It wasn't long before I could hear the ring of giggling coming from the seat J. was sitting in. I guess he's a giggler. I, on the other, we've learned am a "cryer." A good, happy, grateful type of cryer!

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Bye Snow, Hello SPRING & Fatties!

Readers!

Idaho is acting like a vacation destination. I mean for people who like sun! It has hit the 70's! The ski resorts have had to resort to bringing out things a certain bike ironically called The Fattie or Fat Bike.



It has big tires.
Get it?

Hope no one with Cushings or a spare tire is offended.

Speaking of tires, You know how Padre would mess up my garden by putting tires around the tomatos? They now paint tires and put babies in them and high end photographers take the child's picure and it is then placed up on a wall.

I am not kidding. Kudos for recycling~! You can have our tires..... but I imagine we are going to need them because Idaho must have some trick up its sleeve; some joke to play on us and our beautiful crocuses that are now blooming.




Monday, March 16, 2015

Dear Amanda


Feeling a bit tired but had to share this card I got for my bday. I received so many nice things- thank you!


Happy Birthday dear ~ Amandaaaaa…….

Happy birthday to you!! How old are you now?

Still 9? You never age, I’m jealous. This card will probably be a little late, but I hope that you have a

great birthday and that you are treated well. .

        I know I don’t need to get you anything, but I wanted to give you something you could use. So….

because I’m super practictical and because you have a sense of humor, I decided to order you an “Easy Go Pro. ” Not to be confused with “Go Pro”

(I wish I could have gotten you one of those but unfortunately I had to improvise). You’ll see what I mean.

If we’re lucky, this card and your gift will arrive on the same day so you won’t be in suspense too long.

Your family is going to think I’m weird.

I want to thank you for your friendship, it means so much to me.

 

You were such a fun friend growing up, and I’m so thankful for that. Now, even though our lives are so very different than when we were young, I’m grateful we still keep in touch. It’s been fun getting your texts and phone calls. I admire your courage & your faith despite all your challenges. I imagine your mansion above will be much nicer than the rest of us have because of all you’ve had to endure . : )

Here’s to a better year ahead! Love you, Mandy Loo!

*
Sometimes other's words hit the spot. Those have for quite a few days. * I added the uploaded picture on the 27th and so I read the word's again. Thanks, Ann. And I'm sure I will have a small home- easier to clean.




Thursday, March 12, 2015

Being Beautiful/Cushing's Info.


 

There were so many first liners that I wanted to start out this post with! I picked this quote that was on Susan Branch's blog at one time. -

Cushings Syndrome,  Cushings Disease, Prednisone - all these topics could be googled by some soul looking for answers, Readers!

I mulled over several as the conversation was further in the past, in which a stranger pointed out the elephant in the room; me. Literally. At least it 'looks' that way. I will post some modest selfies and you will see that it is the distribution of the 'fat'.

This quote seemed to not go with my thoughts a few days ago- but then I thought that a lot of the time we HUNGER to look beautiful. In the past, not knowing, I bought make-up, clothes, had contacts, got braces, - all things to look more pleasing to others but mainly to me.

I worked out. I actually loved being involved in the game. Michael Jordan was definitely one I wanted to be like. Or at least I liked him.





The thrill of stealing the basketball from someone then charging down the court and softly laying the ball up and letting it kiss the glass before falling through the net was a feeling I could only appreciate after hours of drills that included practicing something over and over and over.


The burn in my legs and bum from getting into the squatting position and then zig-zagging the court over and over is fresh in my memory. I think cause I'm in therapy. Oh, and we were rear ended. That will pull muscles and hurt. Don't get me started on rolling an ankle in basketball season...


Image result for picture of michael jordan and his be like mike commercial

Either way, these drills were drilled into our bodies. So when you did make that once in a life time move (where you were the HERO for the day) ; it felt good. I would continue running after the lay up
and make a small semi-circle then return to where I needed to be and "ready" defensively for the person who was now one on one with me.




Who I would do my best to be a blanket to so she wouldn't be available to get the ball.

There is the feeling of conquering the mountain of a day hike that is hard. The hot, sweaty feeling of hiking out of a valley at top speed so you could hang out in the parking lot and wait for the parents.


It was bliss. When you were in shape. There are so many things to be seen when you are able. Right?
It gives you a thirst for more. Which is why, I think some things happen. I have had a person tell me they felt sorry for me because I hadn't "seen" or "been" anywhere in the last while due to being unable.

Are you kidding? I have read so many books that I have taken me places that are made of dreams.
Lately, not so much. But I have. And Readers, this morning I want you to know it. I need to remind myself of it.

And help others understand. I doubt they are reading this blog so it will just us, however, I need reminding that I don't know or understand everything. I lack compassion. All of us at one time or the other have our moments when our "filter" for compassion and tact is off.

A man said something to me the other day.


He must have meant well. It was awkward- even for the people around me. People who had been strangers but had led conversations with me in the short moments that we shared while we waited.


 They had been strangers too but as we had talked of life, kids, their different stages and ages and about the weather; we came to respect one another. Soon it was my turn to leave and I got up. An older man, in good shape, came and replaced me in the seat.


I dropped something. You know me, Readers, I had two purses I was juggling. I had to have my computer, which I didn't even pull out due to the need to rest and the occassional conversation.
I dropped my water bottle and asked the man if he would hand it to me.

He did and looked up and down at me, at my boot. My stick. And he said..... something dumb.



Those waiting with me, waited to see how I would respond. I wondered how I would respond too! The words came and I told educated him and the older, in really good shape Grandpa, was left stunned. I wasn't rude.

The moment, when I heard the comment that made me give a small disertation upon my "condition", took me by surprise. How could that happen when the sun was shining brightly outside?

I was torn with being funny, informative, or shooting myself in the foot. Which has a boot on it.

 Not the cowboy kind but the kind Bella wears to prom in Twilight.  Edward put her, the boot and her other foot, that was wearing a Converse shoe, on his strong, diamond icy feet and she got her dance lessons.

So what is this post about? For my sake, it's about talking things that I hope help someone out there that may have Cushings Disease; Syndrome; have been hurt, need a good laugh, or cry; had Dr.s put you on prednisone and never took you off because they are professionals- and try their best, we hope, to do what is right.

Now, the shooting in the foot part comes from talking too much. Or maybe getting in people's photos and they trace you back to FB by "tagging" you. Or it can seem that way. Are we really our outside shell?

Beauty or Ugliness can filter through by how you think and act.  And I have been both. Inside and Out at times.

The truth is hard to find and see at times. And to be. Twice I had some conversations with women who needed the reassurance or the need to express the sadness they felt in the change of their body.

Years ago I was in a gift shop with my mom and saw someone I'd known from another time and place. She had changed physically. She was vulnerable as we stood there. Her account of how her life had changed broke my heart. She told where she was from; where her house was located- as if that meant a dark spot and she rose above it, only now to fall to literally the floor.

She literally sunk to the ground and looked at me and said: "I used to be a princess."

Risking mooning anyone in my hospital nightgown or ripping out my IV needle, I knelt down beside her and these words came without me even thinking:

 
"You Still Are."

It wasn't me telling her this. I was just the mouth piece.

Years earlier I had met another gal who would come into the Chocolate Candy store and pick out a favorite one. Or get a scoop of ice cream. She wore a turban on her bald head. Her face was round.

I asked her one day about it. If she was going to come get the divine macadamia nut and caramel chocolate Florence made so well, I was going to find out this woman's story.

She willingly told it. And more! She brought in a scrapbook of what she looked like before prednisone and cancer ravaged her body.

Whoa! I couldn't believe it. Until one day my face was round too.
It gave me strength to know her story. So I put mine out there. And helped Good Shape Geezer, Old Man know about disease, syndrome, and so forth.

Don't get me wrong- Cushing's is anything but sexy.



(Susan Branch's version of the ground hog for her latest calendar.  It was aptly during my birth month. )
It can be cute like this little fella. Heck, maybe he gets his groove on but if you have other aches and owies, it might be hard. Do-able but hard.
So even if you are hungry on prednisone, hunger for the beauty. And I will try to as well.








Wednesday, March 11, 2015

A Piggy & Dirt B-Day & P.T.


Okay, Readers! The last day of my all month posting of Piggy & Dirt Stars!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 


This is how this Leap Year Story started.....

The Padres picked up a delicious white cake from Sam's club so that I could put a cute polka dot star, (shown up above) that my finger accidentally ordered from Piggy & Dirt a long time ago,

Padre: "You put one of your stars on the cake?"

"I washed it first, Dad! Good grief! And, yes, I did. It's a Piggy & Dirt month."



Jaden helped me decorate for the bday- we started last week so that we would be only half way finished by the time kids came. First I put up some stuff  in the window for the month of March.  You know, the usual lucky charm stuff.

And a sunny Piggy& Dirt star at the end of rainbow- Abig sunny, star-better than gold. Unless you have medical bills issues then you might want some gold.

(Kurt Knudsen's stars are the great to look at. )
 
I left some pink from last month because it was cute and a Valentine monster reminds me of a certain nephew......


(Certain Nephew. He took drinking from a cheap, Wal-Mart straw very seriously.)
 
After I asked for tape, to put up pink and lime green streamers, he handed me packing tape and then disappeared like a leap year. Since I was putting the streamers in the window, I occasionally saw a kid ride up and down the street who resembled my own kid,

 I put up three lines of  twirled streamers and then put some stars up and had to rest.

Somewhere between when Feb. 28th and March 1st, I became 9 still. In leap years! Yes! I aged but not aged, aged because I am a Leap Year Girl and stayed the same for the same reason. Very odd.

I am very excited for today because the nephews are coming over for cupcakes. And to take home party favors. (I love being an Aunt and I wish that I could lift them up and schoosh them with hugs and kisses.

Then I have physical therapy. So does Padre. So we go together.

 
(I have no idea where I found this but it was in my files and so here it is. So I guess a don't get a wish but an angel. Which could be better )




Readers, It's a joy spending Padre/ Daughter time at the same time we go to physical therapy.

It's almost as if it was meant to be!  The drives have allowed us to draw closer. Despite being in separate rooms, we lay there with moist heat on the various parts of our bodies and he will text me on occasion.

Him: "You done yet?"

ME: unable to answer but hear the "ding" of my phone if I haven't put it on silent.  Then, upon finishing my regimen and getting dressed, I look to see he has texted me on my phone so I hurry and throw on my clothes and dash from the room only to find he has left the premises! Dan the tech thankfully told me he was waiting in the car. He was listening to talk radio.

He has only left me once; when he had an appt. collide with our appts. and my session went longer than his as usual.  I wonder if that is a good thing or bad thing I go longer? They haven't started to torture him yet. But we both were pretty darn sore the last couple weeks. And they just introduced the row exercises!


Going to Physical Therapy together also gives us time to bicker.  The drive is only 24 minutes across town so we don't have time to get into a big discussion but we can touch upon the little things such as why he likes the blinds in the kitchen left open, or closed,  a certain way. Or why he keeps blindly doing certain things.

On our rides, or at home, he likes to ask my professional opinion about tools that help with therapy- like the weight of a dumb bell or possibly a band that you can put on the door knob and pull. I guess it is so he can get a jump start on the next thing the Therapist will throw at us.

I just shrug cause I am not even to that point. But ya gotta stay positive, eh!?

 They threw in the row boat exercises and we both had to bail overboard after some serious soreness. I think Padre is just copying me- don't tell him that.

Yes, it is pathetic that adding a few minor things like the "row" exercises in three sets of 1o  with the stretchiest rubber pulls, (the yellow one)would cause such a problem, but when you are starting from scratch- you have to literally start from scratch.

Which means you have to come and lay on a table where there is moist heat wrapped all around you and while electrodes do something to your muscles that make them feel like you ran a marathon, you sweat profusely. Well, I do. By the time the buzzer goes off, my mascara is running passed my ears and into my hair.

So after the marathon effects of sweating they put goop on you and then ultra sound. Which must heat up and beat up what is left of your poor tissues, muscles, veins, etc.

And all you did was lay there in a gown, look up at the ceiling because a neck brace, also is strapped to you with Velcro. prohibits your movement. A velcro strap holds it on and in place when it is put over my upper lip. Which sort of resembles a white mustache.

As the spidery feeling of electricity is blasting your body, you have time to reflect on how painful such a small thing can be.

I could go on and on about how fun therapy is, much like a birthday party, but I am too sore and pecking out the words is getting old. (wrist braces are the worst if you are trying to write or type.)

So, Readers, more later- it's time to roll this post out before it becomes more stale than Padre's week old french bread from Albertson's. (they do day old. he keeps it for a long time and loves to make toast with it. I'm surprised his teeth are not chipped.)



Saturday, March 7, 2015

Martin's Pistorius' Father and February nears its End



What a Hoot Star. Owl centered stained glass star
(Kurt Knudsen's 'What a Hoot' star. The glass is black. It looks matte gray. Which is cool!)
* As you can see this is an older and not raw post but some things have popped up that have needed attention. I hope I can get "caught up" with you Readers to present tense but it is hard right now!

it snowed the other day!





Yes, J. was very happy! And like a Snowman in a warm climate, it melted.

Which is like June weather for us Idahoans. then got cold. Which is Idaho being its true self. Of course I left my coat in a Dr. office for the cold part. And then, when it was hot, sweat to death driving around in my artic coat.

J. reminded me that it is still snowing in the mountains! I am sure the ski resorts will tell you the same thing! 

(Kurt Knudesen's star: Silver Glimmer on Etsy. If I had looked into this one closer- I would have ordered it. And look at the yellow colored ones... wow. You could have a huge tree in a lodge in a rich snow resort covered with these...... Sundance once had Kurt and Becky's stars in their catalog. So, maybe they did. We don't get to those resorts often. actuall, ever. heh. heh.

I had to tell him my P.T. had to drive clear up to Banff to ski some good snow.....

J: "Where is that?"

ME: "Canada"

J: Where is that?

ME: Exactly.

"Can't we just get into biking season? Where you go bike out front and we skip ski season?"

Piggy and Dirt (Kurt and Becky's Silver Glimmer star on etsy)

I pled in a prayer one night. J would kill me if he knew. Because I have been telling him that
this year was all about SKIING!!!!

I mean, Readers, you saw my Christmas posts.....I decorated with that in mind.

His great, big soul is so desirous to ski.

If Saloman Free Ski TV knew how he watched them, they'd make him an honorary..... something. But, seriously, he watches the moves of the skiers. Announced to me he was going to go to a school in HS that teaches in the off season. I mean, the kid wants to ski and the closest resort is closed down now that it all melted. Sorry Kelly Canyon!!


Personally feel like I am skiing, or at least in the cartoon Frozen, due to laying on an ice pack right now, one wrapped around an ankle and lower leg, and then trying to drink fluids.



(Barely Frozen Stars...... cool, eh!? For all you northerns. And those who have cool palettes to your to your decorations.)

Readers, I am fighting. I am doing my physical therapy. I am not doing anything while my body tries to heal. That's the hardest part. Not  doing anything. And at other times- I can't even pull myself out of a dream. LIke Martin Pistorius tells in his book. The worst moments of his being unable to communicate was when he was asleep, had a nightmare and could not call to his mom for help.

That makes me so sad..... for him to have suffered that because even in my situation, if I hear J. talk in his sleep or stir or have a bad dream and say something- I am immediately awake. And I call out to him from my room: "It's okay, son, I'm right here."

Despite being literally "frozen" in his body, unable to communicate, he had the constant reassurance from his father as a guardian over him.


Each night his father would dress him for bed, tossle his hair and say: "Goodnight, boy."
And when I read that his father set an alarm for every TWO hours of every night of his 9 year prison, to come and turn him so as to avoid bed sores, I wept.

Yes, each parent suffered in their own way. His father fell into a depression too. But he resorted to a mechanical routine of taking care of Martin. I think his wife and other two children suffered as a result from the emotional end of things. But Martin's dad held him close. Kept him in the home- didn't send him to a nursing home.


(Teal Sea Anemone and my first Piggy and Dirt Star. It is gorgeous.)
 
My great grandmother's worst fear was the nursing home. I think that is why they lived so long; to avoid the nursing home! It made me chuckle a bit but when they did end up in the nursing home, I visited as much as I could.  And my grandma did so much!

Reading Martin's book prepared me to face that fear- a nursing home. Because I didnt' think of it much until I started to get older! What's the big deal I wondered? Other than some dude bathing you- and the smell. And sharing a room with some one who was dying or something.

His mom, he even defends, could not bare to see the "parody of the son she had lost."
Which, in the Pistorius household, his father took to doing the same thing day in and out for his son.

Martin would start with five hours left until his dad picked him up, and started to count. Backwards until the clicking of his boots came down the green tiled hallway where he'd been staring at ants battle to the death or other toys, like a small airplane to transport him until that blessed moment when his dad entered the room and freed him.

They listened to cricket matches on the radio on the 3o minute ride home and he loved it! I have no idea about Cricket other than it was on an episode of Downton Abbey....

I scoffed at it initially but have been grateful for the whole thing to help me through life. And besides where would J. and I learn how to do the "Downton Abbey" photo ops?


Sunday, March 1, 2015

Delight, Piggy & Dirt & Date I was Born



 
When darkness falls,
(Piggy & Dirt's 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds star. Find on etsy!)Lucy In The Sky -clear patterned stained glass star with rainbow prism center
Stars appear
 
Evening Angels Gather Here.
(I love how Becky and Kurt can pull the stars from the heavens with their talent so we can mingle with the angels on those dark nights! And bright nights!)

FebRuary was my birthday month!
 
 So I commited to blog about what I love the whole month.
 
Hence all the stars.
(This is not a real diamond, thieves. Nothing to break in and steal here, please.)


And I tried to read or listen to what I loved to the best of my ability.

FocusedNoelle Smith's bio: Focused











Ghost Boy: bio of Martin Pistorius (not the murderer athlete but the young boy who fell into a coma,
awoke, spent 9 years inside his body unable to communicate a single word.

Image result for picture of Martin PistoriusOr let them know he had better brain capacity than a two year old, like his doctors diagnosed.



Listen to good music- a few months ago J. and I were on some errand, he turned on the random radio young kids listen to and I enjoyed some songs. Others were, meh. And others I had to have him turn it because it was annoying.


 "I feel smarter when I listen to music like the CDs I have." I told him. I was referring to some that are of the more calming variety. Usually they help me on dark nights as well. But I decided that that's what we would spend most of our time listening to.

A very smart friend of mine once told me music - as with mathmatics- is in nature. I am not that smart and told her: "I don't get it." I couldn't pick up a rock and say: "Ah, that's b flat. "

Good music, and the right volume, helps me keep my mind "open".  It can describe my feelings when words can't. After a great experience/few hours with Jaden I was very happy but suffering.

When J. asked how I like it and if I had fun he was confused by my answer. - he was confused that I said I was happy but that I was tense. Literally. I couldn't walk really.

 A section of a song explained it. J. IS musically inclined. So when I showed him with the song he said" "Ohhhhh!", as if quantum physics just clicked in his brain.


Some things happened (see past posts) that made it hard to read, blog, write my letters, return texts, or even move.  kinda bummed out!

 However, I feel pretty lucky. And not just because I have Kurt's little cutie Shamrock:




 Miracles took place this month too. The biggest one was feeling and the possiblity of those

Heavenly Angels
 
When you are in the "thick" of things it's hard to feel them, other times you can't help but know they are guiding you. Because I am not that smart and for me to do or get an idea and find something- I give props to the Angels. 
Whether long dark nights,
in the mid-day
 
Sunshine from a Star 8 inch yellow stained glass with lacquered fabric center. Happy Sunshine yellow
 
bright and early.
 
Or your mom reminds you of them and you stop, look back on some events, and have to agree; angels are there.
 
 
Kurt's star entitled: "My Mother's Star" in memory of his mother.
 
 

As a result of doing those things and keeping in mind that others are there helping, I had some moments where I felt calm. And at peace. Content.

It was last month that I was able to get some journaling done and that felt good and important. Better than a picture or video. But it has to be written with words like Martin Pistorius uses- he should be a thesaurus. Listening to him speak via the help of his synthesizer computer I just am entranced at his vocabulary. Each word seems painstaingly weighed and measured- but he can do it in the blink of an eye. So it's like hearing a sunset- so many colors and flavors from his words! The angels must have been giving him spelling tests each week when he was in his four year coma. (where he had nothing but blackness and no recollection of anything happening yet he knew about the world, that he had a mother (just didn't know she was his until it became clear as they talked about him, around, him but he felt like right through him."




The greatest joy I felt this month was when I showed my grandmother, who is suffering from Parkinson's Disease and a slew of other things that would bring one to their knees. (Like your shoulder bone having died... things of that sort)

 Kurt's stars.


She lit up. I had an ipad so I could pull up the pictures of them to a size that she could see. And shoe LOVED the bright ones.

She was so excited!

It was pure delight. And then yesterday I took over his Raspberry little cutie and oh, boy.
She makes
Raspberry jam.


Well, she used to make it and we'd have it with homemade bread at her house......

To see her DELIGHT was so gratifying to me. More than anything. I showed her some others I have and she loved them- I had to leave them there. After I put them up with those Command Clear hooks.

Of course we had to have the gal that helps her clean her windows off first, because she loves her windows clean and sparkling and then they were ready for the stars!



 I ordered her the one she picked loved after looking at my ipad in its bulky, homemade case that is wrapped in bright yellow duct tape. (It's easier to hold if you have arthritis. )


 But the photo taken made her think it was two tone by the way the light hit it.  So I ordered another.


I better check Kurt's return policy... ha, ha. Or I'll be adding it to my collection. No biggie.

He and Becky are in the midst of moving! Yay for them! I can't wait to see what his grays, blacks, whites and the back yard look like!!! Especially amongst his wood carving art, stars, landscaping abilities and flowers.

Becky wrote me and told me in detail what plants are going in (their son is a horticulturist and I'm a past city flower girl so, basically same thing. Ha! Yeah right! But I do love flowers!!!!)

It came, her bday isn't for awhile
I was listening to music I liked. Writing and thinking while writing in my journal and journaling for Jaden about his past ski trips. Then I couldn't write. So I just thought about them and figured I'd journal in heaven since we have eternity, or is that how it works?

I have decided the only reason I am on the earth at this time was because I might have been helping pick out the floral arrangements for meadows, etc. and it took me forever to get the right color scheme.

okay, I can't blog anymore it is exhausting and adding pictures is exhausting. So I will post this now.

And that is why we have Leap Year, folks. I needed an extra four years to get things ready for a bday.

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