TEMPORARY DISCOMBOBULATION

Once I realized that my well-organized brain felt discombobulated, I made an appointment with my therapist, whom I’ve not seen for two years.

My appointment, which was today, extended over an hour and 45 minutes, during which time, our dialogue offered up the fact that I’m experiencing a healthy state of transition concerning my ability to recognize and handle emotional ‘triggers’ differently (effectively) than had been true in the past. And as we discussed recent changes in my attitude (especially concerning changes that are beyond my control), Gary guided me toward considering each change separately so as to inspire me to connect consciously with my current levels of acceptance concerning specific changes that I’d not choose for myself.  

As to my feeling overwhelmed and unsafe, Gary helped me to see that all of the recent events of these past few weeks (plus my lengthy recovery, Covid and the crazies that make up half of our country) offer up more than enough to cause any well-organized brain to feel temporarily discombobulated.  The fact that I reached out for help during this particular time of transition (concerning who I choose to be during the fourth stage of my life) suggests I’ve continued to carve out a path that moves my life forward rather than allowing ‘triggers’ to suck me into the past where subconscious fear of rejection had reduced my voice to a squeak whenever I’d felt need to say ‘no’ to loved ones who, barreling over boundaries, had to feed their need to assuage their fears by micromanaging every situation that arose.

Today, my voice is confident (not combative) while responding graciously to those who’d once had my unspoken ‘permission’ to place their needs above my own.  And when they push, I calmly stand my ground.

Bottom line:  These past two years of surviving life threatening illness increased my quotient of courage so significantly as to see me zip lining from point P in my personal development to point W more quickly than had I remained in good physical health.  In short, I didn’t experience two years of physical misery to submit to subtle bullying at this late stage of my life.

Viva La Gracious Voice!

🙋🏻‍♀️🔆🌻👻

BOPPIN’ THE ‘SHOULDS’ ON THE HEAD

On a personal note, Shainie and Michael, our dear friends for more than sixty years, are coming to visit, today.  We’re beginning to invite friends, who’ve had covid boosters, into our house.

My heavy heart has settled into a mild case of angst.  I’m actually eager to FaceTime with my therapist, Gary, tomorrow.  It’s truly amazing that I’ve not felt need for therapy throughout these past two years of cancer, chemo, surgeries and pandemic, though in the aftermath of Shawn’s death, overload has caught up with me.  Somehow I feel overcome by sadness though not overwhelmed, and perhaps that’s because I feel no need to hide my distress, and in addition to having learned to say no if asked to do anything beyond my current comfort zone, I’ve gained the wisdom to reach out for help.  With Gary’s insightful perceptiveness, I’ll work through the spiritual weight of this malaise.

At some point, I plan to take and post photos of Ravi’s fairy village, which she’s still creating, as with each visit, a box, holding another fairy surprise, continues to appear somewhere on our patio.  And I don’t know who delights more, during each treasure hunt, Ravi or me!

In deference to the fact that overload causes my brain to feel somewhat disorganized, the same may hold true of my posts based in the fact that I’m aiming to write (or not) whatever discombobulated thoughts pop naturally out of my head.  And with this sudden awareness of not pushing myself to DO anything that feels forced, I’ll not be false to my true sense of self, and with today’s train of intuitive thought filling my mind, somehow, the heartfelt heaviness that has weighed my spirit down ever since Shawn’s unexpected demise is beginning to lift. Whew!

Perhaps all I need do to feel better is to identify ‘the shoulds’ as each one appears followed by taking a lesson from Ravi and bopping each one on the head. The red ones, the green ones, and the blue ones, as well.  And when things fall apart in confounding ways, tis good to know who to ask for help before that which we can’t understand seems to go from bad to worse … 👩🏻🔆🌻👻

1 DECLINING PATIENT CARE

 Nurse anesthetists:

So, if, during every serious surgery, over my lifetime, I’ve appreciated the heartfelt attentiveness of nearly every doctor, nurse, aide and therapist, under whose expertise I made my way toward healing then why do I find myself reeling with anger when comparing medical practices of yesteryear with those experienced, personally, over these past twenty years?

This next series of posts will clarify why my ire concerning modern day medicine is first hand and well founded.

Yesterday, Will and I had reason to discuss nurse anesthetists, and I was taken completely by surprise (blindsided) when my husband told me that that’s who controlled my anesthesia, during my heart/lung surgeries.  Whereas anesthesiologists must have the smarts to be accepted into four year medical schools followed by immersing their minds within residencies, extending over several years, during which time the intensive study of anesthesiology becomes their medical specialty, the education of a nurse anesthetist does not come close to that kind of technical thoroughness.  And knowing that to be true, I felt anger erupt as thoughts of hospitals saving money by reducing the number of board certified anesthesiologists on their staff, who, are now hired to float from one operating room to another, acting in the capacity of nurse supervisors rather than being an integral part of the patient’s surgical team from start to finish.

Being a surgeon, trained to place the well being of his patients above all else, Will has long confirmed my belief that as soon as big business gained control over the practice of medicine, the welfare of the patient became nothing more than a pawn in its greedy little paw.

How often have I heard him state:  while medical technology has improved dramatically, modern medical care has dramatically diminished.

That comment is not directed at doctors, nurses and support staff but rather at the head honchos of big business, who, though not medically trained, pass down money-saving directives from on high, which hospital administrators are bound to follow.

As to the trickle down effect:  My occupational therapist, who, being a knowledgeable motivator, encourages me to push myself beyond my current level of physical endurance by reminding me to exhale as much Co2 as possible in order to more fully oxygenate my remaining lung (which must be trained to increase its capacity if I hope to enjoy a greater sense of ease while engaging in a physical activity (as simple as walking), which demands stamina).

Under Mike’s knowledgeable guidance, I’ve absorbed many energy-saving tips.

Unfortunately, I was allowed a finite number of sessions with Mike, and once they were complete, my surgeon requested more, at which time four additional sessions maxed out the most we could gain.  This finite number has nothing to do with meeting my needs.

 My final session with Mike was Friday.

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie 

10 BLINDSIDED Part 10

 “COMMENT: “Solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong” (Winston Churchill).

“The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness” (Carl Jung).”

Excerpt From:  The Tao and the Bard

—Phillip Depoy

9 BLINDSIDED Part 9

 Each time I’ve approached another birthday ending in zero, disbelief has covered my face.  Upon hitting 70, EVERY next birthday felt impossible to believe.  And now that 78 is less than eight weeks away, I’m finding it impossible to believe that in two blinks of an eye, eighty candles will light up my cake.  Hopefully, a fire extinguisher will be made available to help me blow that many candles out!

Good to note I felt like making a joke.  So little has touched my funny bone since Shawn’s passing.  In fact, yesterday, I realized that while I’ve released sadness, worry and fear, the emotion that I’ve been repressing, most recently, is anger.

At life

Which can be so unfair

As Shawn’s death has devastated Jessica, our family feels devastated for her. 

Over these past twenty five years, I’ve watched my niece, Jessica, grow from an insecure, unformed nineteen year old girl into a college graduate with so many admirable character traits that her devastation, based in the depths of her grief, sees me trying to swallow a Boulder each morning, when I awaken to the painful reality that her beloved Shawn is gone.  And with him, her sense of personal safety, as well.

Jess and Shawn were high school sweethearts.  And being that both had been diagnosed with social anxiety, they’d been each other’s safe haven for these past thirty years.

I could go on and on about the hardships they’d worked to overcome, but considering the serious nature of my illness and Andi’s recent hospitalization, I’d better wrap up this post and occupy my mind with loving thoughts, aimed at keeping my spirit afloat. 🍎🍯

To my way of thinking, Apples and Honey have come to symbolize the sweetness of love that sustains our spirits’ appetite for life during our darkest, grief struck times … 

👩🏻Annie

Sent from my iPhone



8 BLINDSIDED Part 8

For those of you new to my blog, I’ve already written the ‘story’ of Janice’s tragic death near to the very beginning of my posts.  In fact that series of posts is titled:

TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR

I want you to know that Shawn's passing, the excruciating depths of Jess’s grief and the degree of worry my sister feels for her daughter, day after day, have been affecting me much more deeply than I can show.  With EMDR therapy, I’ve come to see that, over most of my life, my depths of sadness remained blocked from my awareness behind a subconscious wall of denial until copious amounts of unhappiness or fear or both had built up so much, inside my mind, as to break through my defense system’s dam, releasing repressed emotional reactions to pour out to such an alarming degree as to overwhelm my ability to cope with the magnitude of the unidentified emotions that I'd been hiding from myself.  

Over recent years, my body warns me of a mental block being swept away as I get a sudden case of ‘the runs’ before my conscious awareness of emotional upheaval becomes apparent.  Last night, thoughts of Jess being all alone with her misery, saw me with the runs, again.

Thank goodness, Jess’s long-trusted friend, Roz, is flying here to be with her, next week, before my sister returns in November..  Though I want to be of help to my niece more so than sending messages filled with love, every day, I hope that at some point, Jess’s head will clear of such intense pain as to free her intuition to kick in, letting her know which decisions are best to make just as my intuition guided me to tell her how deeply my heart cares about all of the reeling emotions that she must be feeling though perhaps she (like me) cannot find the words to clearly convey the depths of her current state of mental turmoil to me.  Thank goodness, my belief in intuitive thought offered me the clarity to say:  Though there may be times when I feel too overwhelmed with so much that remains beyond my control ‘to fix’, I love you, deeply and am always here for you.

👩🏻Annie

7 BLINDSIDED Part 7

Though yesterday’s post continues to ring true, today, I’ve realized that memory somehow leaped over these past four days until just now when, upon glancing back, I caught an honest view of myself that bears acknowledgment before I can hope to regain a more peaceful state of mind by way of heightening my current sense of self awareness..

My autonomic nervous system is not the only deregulated part of me. 

You see, ever since my sister Janice’s tragic, sudden death when I was three, I’ve harbored a subconscious problem that stimulates an over production of empathy, suggesting that, over time, I unknowingly absorb my loved ones’ grief-stricken state of being as though the excruciating degree of their pain, worry and fear is my own.

As this over-reactive sense of emotional stimulation proves subconscious in nature, I appear to function just fine until the absorption of my loved ones’ pain reaches such substantive proportions as to burst through my defense system’s wall of denial, leaving my conscious mind feeling so suddenly overwhelmed by unidentified emotions as to believe myself unworthy of love and therefore unsafe as if everyone I love will surely turn their backs on me (as I’d feared was true at the age of three in the aftermath of my baby sister’s shocking death) if I don’t pull myself together, act sunny and ‘fix everyone who seems broken beyond self-repair, ASAP.

And as that subconscious eruption overwhelmed my current state of dependency, throughout these past four days, thank goodness, I’d experienced years of EMDR therapy, because on day four, a brain brightening series of inter-related insights hit, lighting up the fact that having been swallowed up by the dark side of my mind, I’d begun to experience a full blown attack of PTSD

👩🏻Annie

6 BLINDSIDED Part 6

I’d like to begin today’s post with a positive statement:

We’ve been grateful for desert temperatures cooler than usual for the first week in October.

On the other hand, my sister and brother-in-law flew home, yesterday.  As you can imagine, they had a very hard time leaving their daughter, Jessica, who must feel very much alone with the depths of her grief, right now.

Though my heart is heavy, I’ve kept my spirit afloat, allowing myself the entire day, yesterday, to complete my morning routine followed by walking, back and forth, through our house.  And here’s why the fulfillment of each of those goals serves as a personal achievement: The suppression of the weight of my grief has drained my energy, for sure, most especially as I continue to experience shortness of breath with very little exertion.  Every little thing that I feel need to accomplish concerning my personal grooming routine takes more time to complete than I can believe.  And most everything needs to be done sitting down.  Including showering.  To prevent my becoming light headed.

For some reason, I did not have to contend with sudden drops in my blood pressure, throughout the day, suggesting that I did not become disoriented, yesterday.

And now, having begun and ended this post with positive focus intact, that’s all I feel need to say as I arise to greet a brand new day ...

👩🏻🌻Annie

5 BLINDSIDED Part 5

 I am inspired by the communion between mind-over-matter and my undefeated spirit to believe that better days await, directly ahead.  And I aim to achieve my goal of enjoying life to its fullest regardless of how long the lengthy state of this current recovery following life saving surgery takes …

Just  a reminder—my personal mantra is to

Never give up on achieving my heartfelt goals

🔆🌻Annie

4BLINDSIDED Part 4

Having these puzzle pieces in hand enhances my understanding of what I’m up against.  And with understanding, my spirit’s mindful sense of inner control has restrengthened, lessening frustrated feelings of helplessness whenever disorientation, while walking, occurs.

It’s not as if this restrengthened sense of control can somehow jump start my recovery, which, due to the deregulation of my autonomic nervous system, has stalled, because in lieu of an oxygenated brain, I know that disorientation will prevail.  However, each time I choose to relax all sense of frustration while sitting my disoriented self down, my sense of clarity seems to repair itself in less time than was true before knowledge gained, yesterday, was mine.

And thus, yet again, knowledge is self empowering.🔆🌻Annie

3 BLINDSIDED Part 3

 The easiest way to offer you an update, concerning the current state of my mind, heart and body is to copy and paste the email that was just sent to a dear friend, whom I’ve loved and admired, over these past fifty-three years:

Hi Judy,
First of all, I apologize for delaying my answer to your loving email.

For several reasons, some related to my most recent surgery, some related to the sudden, unexpected death of our nephew, Shawn (three weeks ago) my energy continues to deplete quickly.  Even so, you and Ron are always in my heart.

Shawn was our niece Jessica’s husband.  They were high school sweethearts and had been each other’s safe haven for more than thirty years.  Jessica (my sister Sharon’s daughter) is utterly devastated.  They have no children.  We’ve always been close with Jessica and eagerly welcomed both she and Shawn when they chose to move to Phoenix, several years ago.   My sister and Mickey flew here the evening of Shawn’s death and plan to fly home this coming Saturday as Mickey has a regularly scheduled medical appointment that proves vital to his good health.

As to Will and me, following my surgery, we’re still quarantining, seriously.  Based in safety, we remained in our car while attending Shawn’s graveside funeral service.  And due to the Delta variant and the fragile state of my health, we visit with friends and family, masked and six feet apart on our patio.

Yesterday’s appt with my thoracic surgeon offered us several pieces to the puzzling state of my shortness of breath (which severely limits my ability to walk from one room to another), and we received answers as to why I experience significant drops in my blood pressure upon standing (enough so as to disorient me while a sufficiency of blood is denied to my brain).

Last week’s test results, concerning my orthostatic hypertension determined that my autonomic nervous system is not regulated, and the cause of that unwelcome change is most likely due to the extensive amounts of chemo that I’ve absorbed, over these past two years.
My heart is also involved in that heart rate naturally speeds up while exercising, and now, mine does not.  So while walking, my heart is not pumping enough blood throughout my body.  With these puzzle pieces in hand, what’s next?
A referral to a neurologist.

In the meantime, I’m to drink copious amounts of water while consuming more salt in hopes of raising my blood pressure.  I’m to wear thigh-high compression stockings to keep my blood from pooling in my legs.  And we have chairs spaced several feet apart, throughout the house to ‘catch me’ whenever I feel need to sit down with immediacy so as not to black out.  Despite this current dilemma, my spirit remains strong, believing better days lie ahead.   Upon questioning my oncologist concerning my orthostatic hypertension, he stated this side effect, which can result from extensive invasive chemo, is known to last several months or years.  As that sounded like a choice to my way of thinking, I’m choosing months. 

Last week, Will underwent Moh’s surgery to remove a basal cell skin cancer from his nose, and, thankfully, my knight in shining armor is feeling well.

So as you can see, much has been occupying my heart and mind, most especially over these past three weeks.  I loved Shawn, and my grief and loving concern for Jessica run deep.
Loving you, Judy and of course, Ron as well, Will joins me in hoping all is fine with everyone in your family, big and small.  👩🏻Annie
❤️😘🔆🌻

And thus far, Morning Glory, that summarizes the current chapter in my story.

Sent from my iPhone