Value in frivolous reading?

I'm the last one on Earth I thought would read or listen to Harry Potter or Twilight books. But I couldn't resist it...I listened to the audible version of the last Twlight book...aaaawwww, Happily FOREVER after! Ya, I know, I can't get that 18 hours of my life back.  However there IS redeeming value in these books that kids and adults alike are voraciously consuming is that they emphasize doing good and self-sacrifice for others' sake, loyalty and forgiveness, and even sexual abstinence until such moral time (marriage) has arrived to allow a step over that line. Additionally, a value for human life in spite of it going against the vampire nature, and a love for family.  Our kids are going to be drawn to such things as the Twilight series and Harry Potter, and so along with the positive fact that they're READING SOMETHING, and the Potter series jacks up their vocabulary quite a bit, both series regularly have characters facing anihillation as the cost of doing right, and yet they choose right every time, and bonds of friendship hold over the most trying of circumstances.

Most of us read the Lord of the Rings series (or watch the movies), which has all manner of magic in it, VERY scary evil antagonists, as well as these noble character studies. I don't think it's inconsistent to add the Potter, and (argh) even the Twilight series on the list of "acceptable reading material."  There are issues in each of these books, as are in most books we let our kids read, that would necessitate a discussion, but that doesn't negate the overall good, and perhaps if you kid hasn't caught the reading bug yet they will by reading these books.

(I have a personal rule-I try to at least equalize my serious reading with my "frivolous" reading, though I have to say that Dan Simmon's Hyperion series has given more more theological fodder for thought that any book I've read in YEARS. As long as we don't abandon the Truth we live by when we read fantasy/sci-fi and as long as we keep our brains turned on and constantly working, and have regular conversations with our young teens who may be reading these books, I see no harm in allowing them on the reading list.)

 If you've firmly grounded your youth, there's no danger, in my opinion.  Just keep checking in and promoting discussion.  It's hard to have those discussions if you haven't first read/listened to the books.  And a safe way for your youth to enjoy these books would be to listen to them audibly as a family. www.audible.com is my fave monthly book club for audio books.

It just hurts so much...

I've been trying to figure out why "when it rains, it pours."  I absolutely cannot believe what is on my plate...let's see - I got "terminated" from my phlebotomy school because of my "attendance problems." (those being i chose to be with my husband while he had major brain surgery and meningitis, and even left him in the rehab place and went to my clinical, and even went to my clinical while still having a small bowel obstruction...needless to say I had to leave early); then there's the hubby having head problems. His cancer has returned, however it's not an aggressive one, but it's location tends to cause a lot of seizure activity. He will have to have another major brain surgery to remove a 4'X4' piece of skull and have it replaced with a plastic cap because they feel the infection is in the bone as well a spinal fluid. He's home right now hooked up to IV antibiotics, and I'm also taking care of his wound care. And then there's family--one can never please anybody, but I was completely shocked and heartbroken at the criticism I received from a close family member who has announced herself "done" with us because we "just don't get it." She's right - we DON'T "get" and refuse to receive the criticism leveled right between my eyes. I was so proud of my husband dictating a response from his hospital bed, in the middle of not feeling good to defend and praise me. I have indeed worked so hard, and took over all the CNA care of him for his first 5-6 days in the hospital-all except fetching water. I did the bathing, changing linens, jumping up for this and that. While he was so ill, I was going to take care of him. Once he was feeling a lot better, I let the CNAs start taking over their responsibilities. I'm glad they appreciated my efforts. I'm not glad they started expecting them!

Anyway - I just needed to vent. I'm dealing with the twilight zone when it comes to my school program and how I'm being treated. It was my hope of a job I could physically tolerate, and now they've jerked it away in a very vindictive, victorious manner. Seriously! I am not in the least exaggerating and I have many classmates who have had similar experiences.

I have no idea how I'm supposed to handle all of this. I just don't! I can't control people who choose to act horribly. I don't know what my next step is. My oldest son's hours are being slowly cut as the tourist season dies down, which means we may have trouble paying all the utility bills this month. It's only been my oldest two's income that has kept us afloat, along with my "TN Momma" (God gave me an extra mother 13 years ago...what a blessing!) carrying 100% of the mortgage 4 months straight, and at MINIMUM 50% of it since Brad's vacation time ran out. Usually she's paid more like 80%. And she can't afford it! She really can't! if I can't come up with money to put towards it, she could miss a car payment, or another vital payment. It's becoming that dicey. I cannot let her suffer because my life has exploded.

Where's God in all of this? He's here. And I know we'll come out the other side of this. We're holding together so strongly as a family, working cooperatively, appreciating each other, giving respect for the efforts each member makes.

I don't handle injustice well - particularly in my own life. Oh how I want to rain down vengeance on those who have been so horrid to me during this awful time. But that's not my place. I must remain a person I can be proud to be. I don't want to have fault in this situation, something they can rightfully hold against me. At this time there is nothing (in the realm of "reality") they can hold against me except choosing to go with my husband to the hospital for serious brain surgery. When I started the program he was stable. If I could've foreseen this would happen, I wouldn't have started the program!

Every time I think about all of this, I have to remove each item of grief off of my plate and set it aside. I'm getting better at  refusing to fret about things I can't fix today.

But I'm heartbroken. I'm so sad. I'm indignant and appalled. I'm hurt. Those aren't easy feelings to carry around. I did my more than my best and not only was it not enough, but it's being spat on as if it was nothing.  It just hurts so much.

What are these ads doing here?

Part of a way I can earn some extra money is by allowing some targeted ads to my blog pages. They mostly come from content within my postings. page views alone help, but actually clicking on an add gives me more money. In a weeks time with little traffic I made a total of $4.26. I realize that's not a lot, but it adds up, especially as I'm able to get more traffic directed my way. If I've written someone you think a friend would be encouraged by, I'd love to know I've helped someone. If they click on an ad so be it. So please do feel free to copy my link and send it to others who might be helped or inspired  (or want to argue).

I think once I'm hired at a phleb job I'll remove all ads from my page. For now it's extra income and any creative way I can can create it I must. Thanks!

Adjusting to a new normal and finding the time to do it

How do people find their new normal? I've done it a few times now, and it's always been simply step by step by step. It's usually been a new baby joining the family. Then it was no longer working and dealing with back surgeries, procedures and constant pain. We had a HUGE adjustment time when hubby had his stroke, but we were getting there! I even went back to school, something already in the works when he got sick, but I just changed my direction a little bit to get to work as fast as possible. For almost 6 months we watched him get progressively better. And then one day he woke without most of his recovery and went backwards everyday, and faster each day. Finally we found out something very serious was very wrong after I completely went nuts and demanded some testing NOW, not next month. Of course there was something wrong! His cancer came back, and right on schedule. (I keep wondering if the doctors had really listened to me we could've caught the cancer while it was treatable...there are never answers to those kinds of questions.)

So. It's cancer. And I found out tonight how much they didn't tell Brad when he beat it the first time-that the survival rate was only 70-80-% for 5 years. If he'd known that, I think his experience that summer of radiation, being completely alone as a young kid all summer in a strange city, very differently. Maybe it was best he didn't know his life was still in very real danger. But he had the right to know, and I am completely finished with doctors withholding information, which I think they do to avoid dealing with the emotions of their patients. Maybe there are reasons I don't understand, but in the age of google, our amazing neurosurgeon STILL failed to tell us the truth that Brad's life is really in danger. He actually said "I don't know any of that - it's not my job! I just get the specimens the pathologist asks for." Of course he had no idea who's job it WAS to tell us what in the world we were dealing with. Why they were arranging chemo, and suddenly cancelled it. Is that good or bad?! I asked the doctor "So you're comfortable with hubby just walking around with cancer growing in his head," and he actually gave a resounding and cheerful "Oh yes!"

Exactly how, while I'm working on getting a new home healthcare worker trained, fighting with the ridiculously stingy medicaid to get a son's bone surgery done, and doing my clinical hours at a hospital 45 min. away from home with just one car in the family, am I supposed to make the calls to the 10 or so cancer groups and advocacy and information agencies? If I had any cell coverage on my commute that would be the PERFECT time. But naturally I don't have cell coverage even if I could find my blue tooth. If I work the 5;30am-2pm shift, I get off just in time for all East Coast places to close.

I am dead tired. Really and truly tired. But you know what? Brad is at peace. What a blessing!

Is faith by default still faith?

So I'm not thinking of changing religions (I couldn't anyway since I don't have religion but rather a relationship with the One True Living God), nor abandoning my faith. But there have been some days when my faith has been in place because the absence of it was an intolerable concept. I simply could not fathom how to survive without it, so I chose my faith that day.  Is faith a choice, a verb? Is it a feeling? Is it both? Neither? 

What I know for sure is that I've endured far more physical suffering than I expected from life, and more emotional distress as well. I had a very naive idea of how much suffering each person should be allotted in life.  But I don't see, now, why I should be exempt from the worst life has to offer when millions of people live on the edge of it or smack dab in the middle of it. I don't like it. I don't exactly know how to feel secure or at peace when more calamity could strike tomorrow. 

We've been told we should play the lottery because the chances of my husband having all the things happen to his brain that have happened are astronomical.  

Do some people who seem to have a charmed life just make better choices and somehow avoid suffering, or do they keep it to themselves, or do they have a better attitude about it than I do? I don't believe in silent suffering, however, I think there is such a thing as quiet suffering that brings one to a new level of knowing God if we let it, if we are willing to maybe talk more to Him about it than others (yes, I'm thinking about it for myself, but I have to think out loud first). I don't think my life should be defined by hardship endured or suffering suffered, but rather my relationship with my heavenly Father and what HE has done in my life rather than what *I* have endured or accomplished. 

But pain naturally makes a person turn inward. It's easy to become very self-focused. Pain screams for attention. It is a consuming beast.  The challenge in living with it is to continually refuse that inward focus and turn back to that outside ourselves. It's not easy, nor does it feel very good to do at first, because when we focus on our suffering it almost feels like justice, like I have the right to think about it, wonder about it, and generally be busy with it rather than being Christ-centered and about the work of building God's Kingdom.

Hmmm......I'm still thinking.  

I actually made it through an entire work day today! No tummy troubles or any other trouble. Just fatigued the last 2 hours, but I did get up at 4:45am, so I guess it's understandable, and I'll build endurance. I've discovered that I'm very tightly wound up still, so the moment I feel on the spot (like every time I draw blood as I'm being scrutinized!), all that I know suddenly disappears. I literally feel at a complete loss as to what to do!! Today was good, though, because the gals training me understood and helped me to focus in and calm down ("Just breath and don't talk"...LOL!) 


I don't know how to unwind this thing in me though-I feel like one thing hitting me the wrong way and I'll completely explode with sprockets and springs flying every which-way. Not an emotional explosion, but a CATHERINE HAS GONE TO PIECES AND IS SITTING ON THE FLOOR DROOLING kind of explosion. The dr says I have too much adrenaline coursing through my veins from all that's gone on not just this last 3 weeks but the last 14 months. Hopefully the med I've been given will help because it's a very unpleasant feeling to know you are on the brink of mental and physical collapse.


We definitely underestimate the value of quality rest. Oregon Health Sciences University hospital has virtually NO resources for patient's families, particularly those in ICU where family member visits tend to be limited, and absolutely no sleeping in there allowed (I kid you not - a woman in her 8th month of pregnancy literally closed her eyes at 8:37 and was woke by the nurse at 8:39 and not that kindly told "You CANNOT SLEEP IN HERE!" I realize there's a need for rules, but what sense does it make to not give a family member a blanket for the night while they sleep on the teeny couches in the very cold waiting room (it's too warm in the day and blowing cold air at night). I asked for a blanket and was told "If I give you one I'd have to give EVERYONE one." Uh, ya! That would be a GOOD THING!


I think I have no real point to this blog entry except that I had a very very rough time at OHSU while Brad was there, though the 2nd week was slightly easier as he was in a private room with a couch of sorts for me to sleep on, BUT by then I was so exhausted that my stomach quit working and I ended up in the ER twice, and should have been admitted the first time, and was on my way (literally being rolled down the hall) to surgery the 2nd time when a resident came running up after 12 hours in that ER gurney and said "We've had another meeting around your ct scan and we've decided you're just fine and good to go." I think the senior attending physician let the residents play with me and learn from me and only intervened when they decided to cut me open. And he did it knowing I was there with my very ill husband and needing to get back to him. I'm just guessing, but I think there is probably some truth in my guess.


I'm very happy that I did get through a full work day, without any special needs or looking obviously ill. The ladies at the lab told me my color was much better and white just didn't suit me :-)  Being white sure didn't FEEL very good.


Well, it's 8pm and time for bed if I'm to survive another 5:30am-2pm shift tomorrow. I never thought I'd like such a shift, but it's great getting off work so early in the day, and the morning goes really fast. The afternoon slows down and it can be very boring. I don't like sitting around with nothing to do.


I would love your prayers for strength and endurance for me. I'm in a lot of pain tonight with a swollen back causing both legs to ache badly. I'm burning through my ice packs. Pain medicine isn't touching it, and I don't want to use pain medicine anyway! I'm thankful for today, and for the beautiful drive by the ocean for most of my commute. Seeing the ocean always puts my perspective in it's place.

Step by step from death to life & walking in some very groovy high heels!

So I wore my only pair of heels today. I LOVE them! I think they are really great shoes, and they're so comfortable. What I wore to church today was the 7th outfit I'd tried, and it was SO GREAT to feel like I actually looked good. I've lost 160 pounds (but gained back 40 this last year, so my net loss is 120). Anyway, it's still a LOT, but I have 120 more to go (though even 80 would have me looking so much better).  I think I'm nearly at the place where I don't look terribly obese and it's my number one noticeable physical trait.

For quite a few years I tried to hide. It's very hard to hide when you weigh 365 pounds. Yup, I said it out loud. That's the last time I weighed. I quit weighing after that and I know I must've had another 25 on that before I started loosing. When you're morbidly obese and trying to hide but have to go out in public anyway, oftentimes you start wearing darker colors. Or neutral colors. Certainly nothing bright. I didn't wear any shade of pink for 10 years. I didn't wear any jewelry except simple earrings, maybe a very small necklace. I had my hair cut short so it wouldn't stand out (I would've looked better with bigger hair probly). No highlights. Nothing fancy.

Not only was I hugely obese, but I felt physically HORRIBLE. In fact, I felt like I was dying and I believe I was. It's hard to get up and get dressed when you're dying.  I was diabetic, hypertensive, hypothyroidism, low kidney function, my adrenal glands were over-producing cortisol, which gave me the look of someone on prednisone (moon face, buffalo hump, major fat around the abdomen). I was in a great deal of pain, all the time, and on ENORMOUS amounts of pain medicines on top of all the other medications that were trying to control my disorders. I am the 1 out of 100 who has very few opiate receptors in the brain. It takes 4-5 times the dose for a normal person to do the same thing for me. I almost always have to have a nerve block for any dental procedure because my body metabolizes things like lidocaine way too fast. I have felt almost every stitch I've ever had sewn in because doctors didn't believe I didn't know the difference between pressure and pain. The point is that it took SO much pain medicine to keep me from hurting so bad I wanted to be dead.

The problem is that when you're on narcotics for years, they turn your brain off. It becomes incapable of handling any pain. There's a reason our brains produce endorphines and other things like oxcytocin. Those hormones give us a sense of well-being and energy and help control pain. My brain couldn't do that. It couldn't do anything, so I was on a bunch of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds as my brain couldn't manage anything but keeping my heart beating and my lungs breathing, and THAT was becoming hard.

I ended up having to take heart medication because my heart was skipping beats and going way too fast. I was short of breath all the time. One of my arterial blood gas draws showed only a 64% oxygen level in my blood. It should be close to 100%. Anything under 95% is reason for concern.

I was sick. I was dying. I knew I was. I know I was. And though my children weren't neglected or ignored, I certainly wasn't being the mother I wanted to be, nor the human I wanted to be.

If I didn't have children, I believe I would have died. It would've been so easy to lay down and die. Literally. I could've let go....so easily. It would've been a blessed relief. I considered going ahead and dying so my kids could get a new mommy, a better mommy. I told Brad if I died I wanted him to move on as soon as possible and find a good mom. I'd been hospitalized 13 times in 10 years, the last time being incredibly serious. I almost died from low potassium, and the doctor was sure I had a blood clot. I was given heparin therapy and they chased the clot all over my body with ultrasound and scans but never found it. Maybe it wasn't there. Maybe the Heparin broke it up. The doctor was very sober, and I said "I need you to keep me alive, I have kids!" He said "I'll do what I can." You see? I knew I was dying and would die if I didn't stand up and live, get out of bed and live, get dressed and live, get out of the house and LIVE. So, I decided. In the Psalms, David said "I choose life!" So *I* said "I CHOOSE LIFE!" The Psalms also say "Where there is life, there is hope." As long as I was breathing, I had reason to hope, and I clung to that hope that for some time was based entirely on the fact that I woke up again another day.

Step by step, one drug less at a time, one pound less at a time, one more trip out of the house at a time, one more time going to church again, one more time going to choir practice again, one more time driving to see one of the kids doing a Bible quiz-meet, one more time going to the grocery store.

Step by step by step by step by step I walked from death to life and into high heels.