Moving into Fall

It is amazing to discover that summer is over. I spent a lot of it waiting for an appointment with my ortopedic surgeon, which finally happened at the end of August. While I was waiting I went to a family reunion, of sorts, in the Poconos, where my parents. have a cabin. I was able to spend time with my nephew Luke, his mother, my sister Catherine, her gentleman friend Bob, my brother Luke, his wife Mary, Meg, Myla (who is now three months old!) and Adam, and then, later, my nephews Eric and Brian (Luke and Mary's sons) , and Eric's girlfriend Amanda.

 

I didn't get to spend enough time with my parents, however, as they have a seperate, small, winterized cabin, where they stay to escape from the chaos in the lower cabin. I have mixed feelings about these get togethers. Some of us suffer from depression, some from bi-polar, others from near(or full blown) alcholism, and some are completely oblivious to all of this! It makes for an interesting mix, and a certain amount of tiptoeing around each other.

 

Of course , everyone else can escape into the woods, or down the stream, or out on the lake. I am pretty much stuck in the cabin area, because I walk with a  cane or rolling walker. Dirt roads, woodland paths, and lots of rain made it difficult  get around. But I read a lot (murder mysteries) and napped and visited with whoever happened to be around. And I am glad I went for the visit, despite our collective craziness.

 

Now I must move on to the next hurdle. My shoulder surgery is scheduled for October 19th. I've been waiting for this surgery for the last two years, but now I am dreading it. I went through this 3 years ago, and know quite well what I am in for-an unfortunate feeling of deja vu.

 

Tonight I am purposely not looking too far ahead, but as time passes, I need to reach into myself to activate Warrior Woman yet again. Maybe I'll look more at it more next week!

 

Blessings, Margo

 

 

 

And Unto Me a Grandchild was Given

Yes, I am still alive and doing okay and living in SE CT. And yes, I am a grandmother! Meg had her baby by C-section on June 15th, and I feel so blessed that I got to be in the room, holding her hand while the baby was delivered. A girl! Meg had kept her secret up til the end. I watched the baby emerge from the incision, and, after they weighed and suctioned and wrapped her up, I was the first one to hold her, to bring her over to Meg to see. Meg named her Myla.

I am overjoyed. I spent the first 10 days "sleeping" on Meg's couch, helping when I could, and going home during the day to sleep. I am grateful that she live a half a mile up the road, so I can go over most days to hild Myla, and that Meg doesn't mind my dropping in.(I always call first, though.)

Meg"s boyfriend, Adam, seems to be taking on the role of daddy, although she was already pregnant by artificial insemination when she met him. He lives and works in RI, and comes down on weekends. I give then privacy on weekends, but cannot wait for Mondays, so I can go over and hold Myla  and sing nursery rymes to her. I have also tauight her to stick out her tongue, as my mother taught Meg ast the same age.

Babies are amazing, and the fact that Meg(at 34) is old enough to have one is still amazing to me. I love that I was there at the moment she crossed the line from maiden to mother, archtypally speaking, and felt myself becoming even more of the Crone, even though my menses stopped long ago. This is not bad, for the Crone carries the archetype of wisdom, and I hope to grow into the role more as I age as gracefully as possible.

As for everything else, well, Rene is still shutting me out, and I now understand that I was making big changes, and as she struggles with change, I may have beeen something of a threat to her. I still love and miss her, but have pretty much accepted that she's gottta do what she's gotta do, and am moving on with my life.

The summer has been filled with physical therapy, and chiropractry, and my regular round of doctor's appointments,with some massage therapy and accupuncture thrown in, because I think alternative therapies do help.
I saw my surgeon, Dr. Bell,for my one year after gastric bypass appointment. I have lost over 180 pounds since my heaviest in April '05, and am a shadow of my former self!
My annual bloodwirk came out alright, and I have an appointmrent with a plastic surgeon, though I probably have to have the shoulder surgery before I can excize the incerdable rolls of skin and left over fat that weigh me down now.

I am sorry, yet again, it has taken me so long to post. I seem to go through periods of inertia when it comes to the computer. After a few days away, I am overwhelmed by all the e-mails, and cannot find the energy to catch up. Plus the dining room, where my computer is, is not airconditioned, and I am definitely not a summer person. Some days I feel trapped in the living room, where I run an old air conditioner practically full time.

Thank you for you concern and e-mails to me, asking how I am. They make me realize how much my friends out here in computerland mean to me, and I an grateful to all of you.

Blessings, Granny  Margo :)

Granny Margo?

I know it's been a long time since I have made an entry, but this time it's not because I am deep in a dark cave. I seem at have emerged through a tree root, and l found myself in deep woods, but at least I can see the light of day.

In the other world-the one we call real life- is busier because my 33 year old daughter is about to present me (and her father) with a grandchild! I do not usually write much about Meg because she doesn't want to have her life broadcast into cyberspace,  These days my readership is small enough that I feel you are my friends, and want to share the my joy.

She has been talking about having a child for several years now, and has been waiting for a  stable environment, a partner, male or female, with whom to have a child.  As the years have passed, her frustration level rose to the point of researching artificial insemination. And that is what she did, deciding to raise the child alone-with help from friends and family. We were thrilled-my mother can't wait to meet her great grandchild! I'm a bit impatient, too, considering it's not due til mid June.

And because life is filled with the unexpected, she met her boyfriend Adam on some dating service. She got several calls, and told each one that she was pregnant, and quite capable of taking care of the child and herself. She went out on several dates, and Adam was the last. He lives and works in Rhode Island and they see each other on weekends,

He seems completely unconcerned about how this child's life began, and will roar down from R. I. to be there for her during the birth. She also has a Doula, who will be with her during all the hospital labor and delivery. She is very well organized, with day(and night) care-she works alternating 12 hour shifts - and a detailed birth plan and an interesting nursery all ready.  (The nursery is decorated with fire and fairies! This is no surprise to anyone who knows her.)

She has researched early childhood-her college major was human development and family relations, though now she works as a plant operator assistant at a nuclear power plant against which I used to protest. She has selected a minimum of "baby things" to fit in her small house, and she is now going to an acupuncturist to turn the baby who is breech at the moment.

She is still working, forced kicking and screaming into light duty, at five months along. She has not missed a whole days work since she became pregnant She is rightly proud  of her organization and planning, and is handling getting bigger and bigger very well. She has a great attitude about labor and delivery, and now even has Adam to be by her side.

Poor Meg, she hasn't a clue. This baby will disrupt all her neatly laid plans, will change her life in ways she cannot imagine, will fill her tiny house with equipment and toys, joy and exhaustion. will take over her heart and mind as it has taken over her body, She cannot imagine the ride she embarking on, and all of this is okay.

She will struggle and grow along with the child and, luckily, is a strong, independently minded woman who rises to challenges. I cannot imagine where she comes from! Her father and I are slightly bemused about this child we raised.

All the way through this, I have referred to the baby as " the child" or "it" because she decided early not to share the child's gender with anyone. This has driven some friends almost crazy, but she points out this is the only nine months in its whole life that nobody is projecting gender roles on to him or her, and she wants to keep it that way! She thinks about these things.

The fly in the ointment is the baby in breech. If he/she does not turn, she will have to have a C-section, and will be miserable about that until she holds the baby in her arms. Most of all, though, she wants a healthy child.

So that is the news in my neck of the woods, and I will let you all know what's going on when we know more!

Blessings, soon-to-be Granny Margo

Catching Up and Getting Out Some

To read this in a better form, go to MagogoSMusing at Blogger.

Spring has finally really arrived in my corner of Connecticut. The daffodils are blooming in waves,my neighbors magnolia is at its peak of glory, and we are all emerging, blinking in the sunlight. I am emerging a bit, too, thanks to Wellbutrin and my new snazzy cobalt blue rolling walker.

I have been struggling all winter with dizziness when I stand up-my blood pressure falls as much as 20 points sometimes. When this happens my knees go wobbly and I go down-sometimes hard. I have learned to stand up slowly and wait before I move, but there are other times when I am standing  and turn around, take a step, and go down-yelling "timber!" as I head for the floor.

Needless to say, this has been concerning since I live alone now and have a very hard time getting up, because I am still not very strong. My neurologist attributes all this to neuropathy from 30+ years of diabetes. With much less weight on my feet-I've lost over 160 lbs since my heaviest- my feet are in less firm contact with the floor than in the past.
I also stagger all over the road when I walk.

Hence the rolling walker. Walking with a cane aggravated my shoulders, but with my walker I can now walk a mile without staggering or falling down! Doesn't sound like much, but for me it's amazing.

I am getting out more socially, too. I am forcing myself to accept any invitation that come my way-a St. Patrick's Day party, an art auction for our local HIV/AIDS group, a Mary Kay make up party(!), a drumming circle. I am struggling to make the best of what comes my way, trying to meet new people(very difficult for a real introvert like me).

Have I emerged from the cave yet? Not yet, but occasionally I can see a glimmer of light far away, shining in the darkness, as I struggle down the path using my rolling walker and with the candle perched in my walker's basket. It also has a seat so I can occasionally rest.

Blessings, Margo

Cane and Candle

Hecate stands by the crossroads, where  the three paths meet, with her dogs beside her. She holds her torch high. I have stood with her, frozen, for too long. Choose a road, really only three choices, and I know for sure I am not going back down the trail I came in on. That leaves two paths, which wind away into the darkness of Her huge cave.

I have been blessed. She has stood with me through mourning, self-blame, self-doubt, self hatred, loneliness, hopelessness, a cold dark winter of Not Knowing. She is not known as a patient Goddess, but she has been patient with me. She does not give me platitudes or advice, but I know it's time to leave her, to move on. I've known for a while.

Two roads-Robert Frost  wanted to take both roads offered to him, I am gathering up courage to choose one, and neither seem well traveled. Two roads leading into darkness, to who- knows- where, but I must pick one.

And so I do, randomly starting out, supported by my new blue cane, walking off into the dark alone. I have been lonely a lot this long winter, and leaving Hecate is a wrench. I turn and honor her with a bow, and a formal "Thank You for Your Blessings". She nods and almost smiles, then turns back to Her dogs.

Perhaps She holds her torch a little higher, to give me light a little farther. I am grateful. After a while it is just me on a path,
stumbling some, feeling scared and courageous in the darkness.

In my other life, the one that people refer to as real, it is Robin, my massage therapist, who gives me a candle. As her strong hands work my deflated flesh, she tells me to fill myself with the Light of the Universe, the Light freely available to all, let it pour in through my first charka, the down my body until it is shining out my pores.

I breath in, slowly, trying to let the Light flow through me, and am struck by the difference between my lives, inner and outer, outer and inner, which is more real? I picture myself in Hecate's cave, following an unknown path in the dark, so I take some of Robin's light and know I now have a candle. One which will not go out, because it is fueled by the Light of the Universe.

So now I am walking a bit faster these days, helped by my new blue cane, and a candle which glows with the light and love of those who want me out of the cave. I am not ready to emerge, but I'm moving faster down the road with my own  candle, a small torch to light the path.

Still Alive, Mushing Onward

My computer died, not me I am alive and recovering well from kyphoplasty. I had the surgery on a Thursday, came home on Friday, fell in the bathroom on Saturday, sprained my ankle and knee, and have been laying low ever since.

My computer got sick last week, and  I could only get on briefly before it shut me down, Meg's boyfriend came over Sunday and did a temporary fix, and  I hope he'll come back eventually and really fix it.

I am still having mini sort-of-fainting-spells when I stand up too fast, because my BP falls 20 points when I stand up. I am now walking with a cane and a phone in my pocket, per order of my daughter. She'd rather not spend her Sat nights in the ER.

I've been depressed as hell, with crying jags-my own wonderful after affect of anesthesia. Luckily, since I'm living alone, I have only foisted this reaction on a few people. I hope to be better as time passes. My other personal reaction is that I cannot take in what I read. This one would panic me, but I've had enough surgery to know reading will return eventually.

I miss each and everyone of you, and will start reading  your journals as soon as I can.

Blessings, Margo

Once Again, Warrior Woman

Yes, I am still alive and struggling in Southeastern, CT. I am scheduled for back surgery on the 23rd-yes this coming Thursday- to take care of the back pain before I have this shoulder surgery I've needed for 18 months. Another Eminent DR from Yale is going to do a kyphoplasty. I came right home and googled it. They stick a needle between the vertebrae, blow up a balloon to make space, then fill the hole with cement. Medical cement, not construction cement, I'm told.

I have not been online much for a long time because it hurts to sit in this chair, and my AOL security 9 is terminally screwed up, and I haven't got the energy to fix it. I am now on an AOL 8 I found by accident  stored who knows where, and I'm not sure I'll find it again. How do I feel about the preperation, the MRI the DR's visits and blood draws and drive to Yale to meet the anestesiologist-all crammed into five days? It hasn't been a great week, full of driving-which hurts my back-and pain pills which reduce me to a blithering idiot-I hate the feeling-and I am now walking with a cane because I can't walk straight without it(maybe that's cuz I'm gay!) 

I have all the normal feelings-fear, anger, sadness,  hopelessness, flashbacks to one terrible hospitalization, but I am not giving in to any of them. Warrior Woman has put her war paint on and taken up residence, and will see me throughout will be safe to feel the feelings after the surgery.

. And it sucks being quite alone through all of this. My friends have rallied round with promises to take me down and pick me up, and Peggy, my friend of 52 years (We're 56 now!) has been dropping by and doing my laundry and being generally helpful, but I am still alone in the house a lot and I miss Rene-the good times, of course, not the bad ones. Not that I want her living here again. We talk business occasionally on the phone, and she's pleasant but not friendly.

I got a wonderful surprise when Amy, our resident hippie, ran across my number, and felt moved to call me. It was wonderful. We could talk to each other about issues and problems and joys that we knew about from our journals-it was truly talking to a friend. And it came out of the blue for me, and was a real blessing. Think of me, or pray, or send energy or thoughts or Light, on Thursday morning when I have surgery, Warrior Woman welcomes all kind of help from any Source that is meaningful to you. Thank you all.

Blessings, Margo