"Listening to you talk about your life makes me anxious". Those are the words I am paying my therapist $60 an hour to tell me. Wow, I really am hopeless. No, not really, but sometimes I wonder. Maybe "helpless" is a better word.
For those of you who haven't really heard from me lately here is a little update. My mom has recovered enough to come home, no to her home though, to mine. She was discharged from the hospital 5 weeks ago with a J-tube, or otherwise known, a feeding tube. Which, I get to manage since I am a nurse and all. She is doing well though, a slew of nurses, and therapists are in and out of my house like white trash in Wal Mart on a half of sale day. They have all seen me breastfeed my daughter and my mom swears that the physical therapist likes watching.
Let me tell you all, this has not been easy. We have had more uphill battles than down. She has fallen 4 times, one ending her back in the hospital for 2 days. She has also had her tube fall out, another ER trip to get it replaced. We have had to have a roll reversal, me taking care of her instead of her taking care of my kids. She doesn't take to it well.
I started school two weeks ago, one of the classes being A and P which is the hardest class I will take in my lifetime. I thought that I was ahead in it last week, getting a whole bunch of my histology drawings done neatly in my lab notebook. I was so stoked to go to lab and be "prepared". Little did I know what was in store for me.. .... A headache and a distraction.
I got to lab, the cadaver was out. The smell wasn't horrible, but it was there,. My lab partner had been stolen by some chick, so I had to sit somewhere else, and the girl next to me must have spent 6 months on her drawings and lab notebook, because it was perfect.
The smell of pickled human started to give me a headache and the kid that was observing was starting to look a little pale. Then the smell of someones lunch in the near by office stated to fill the air. Before I knew it, the pale kid was on the floor and one of the instructors was trying to give him some juice. So much for getting caught up on lab day.
Never did I ever guess that my life would be this chaotic. I long for the days of quiet evenings at home with nothing to get ready for except work the next day.
As Bill Rutherford, my therapist would say. " Ashley, are you sure 25mg of Zoloft is enough for you"? Oh, wait, he also said that the way I am living is unhealthy, except that I do have a lot of short term goals, which are healthy. WTF????
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
It sure made me re evaluate my life.
Just when you think that you have a full plate, you may want to think again.
I always wonder how much I can handle in my life, before I have to increase my Zoloft dosage. I have discovered, I can handle a lot.
Two weeks ago, my mom got really ill with pneumonia. She was put on oral antibiotics, which didn't help. She was admitted to the hospital a week later, where she has been residing for the last week. She got worse, and worse, and worse. We kept hitting hurdle, after hurdle, after hurdle. I was trying to be strong for her, but inside I was dying. I was so frightened that I was going to lose her. I kept thinking, she wants to go to England, she wants to see her family castle, she wants to see her grandkids grow up, they need her, I need her.
I couldn't talk about her condition because it made me cry. I have a lot of friends in my corner, but I couldn't talk to them, because I didn't want to. I tried to train for my triathalon, but I just wanted to go home and sit in a dark room and think about nothing. My job which I take pride in, was something I didn't give a crap about at the moment. I skipped a mandantory meeting because I couldn't get out of bed.
One week into her hospital stay, my mom turned a corner and began improving. She was alert, and talkative. I thought I had hit the jackpot. She was finally getting better. After failed attempts at placing a PEG tube, and NG tube, thinking she had cancer and other horrible things, I may get my mom back.
Well, here we are, 8 days into her hospital stay, and things are looking up. I am so happy right now. I get another chance with her. You never know how much time you have with the ones you love. You put off calling them, telling them how much you care for them, spending time with them. This has been a learning experience for me. I have learned what is most important in my life. Not laundry, mopping, work, school, tri-training. It is family, friends and relationships.
To all those who still have your moms around, you are so lucky. The time we get with them is limited.
To my beautiful mom,
I love your strength, compassion for life, your love for my children. I am so happy that I get more time with you. I will now make the most of it.
I always wonder how much I can handle in my life, before I have to increase my Zoloft dosage. I have discovered, I can handle a lot.
Two weeks ago, my mom got really ill with pneumonia. She was put on oral antibiotics, which didn't help. She was admitted to the hospital a week later, where she has been residing for the last week. She got worse, and worse, and worse. We kept hitting hurdle, after hurdle, after hurdle. I was trying to be strong for her, but inside I was dying. I was so frightened that I was going to lose her. I kept thinking, she wants to go to England, she wants to see her family castle, she wants to see her grandkids grow up, they need her, I need her.
I couldn't talk about her condition because it made me cry. I have a lot of friends in my corner, but I couldn't talk to them, because I didn't want to. I tried to train for my triathalon, but I just wanted to go home and sit in a dark room and think about nothing. My job which I take pride in, was something I didn't give a crap about at the moment. I skipped a mandantory meeting because I couldn't get out of bed.
One week into her hospital stay, my mom turned a corner and began improving. She was alert, and talkative. I thought I had hit the jackpot. She was finally getting better. After failed attempts at placing a PEG tube, and NG tube, thinking she had cancer and other horrible things, I may get my mom back.
Well, here we are, 8 days into her hospital stay, and things are looking up. I am so happy right now. I get another chance with her. You never know how much time you have with the ones you love. You put off calling them, telling them how much you care for them, spending time with them. This has been a learning experience for me. I have learned what is most important in my life. Not laundry, mopping, work, school, tri-training. It is family, friends and relationships.
To all those who still have your moms around, you are so lucky. The time we get with them is limited.
To my beautiful mom,
I love your strength, compassion for life, your love for my children. I am so happy that I get more time with you. I will now make the most of it.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Venti Soy Cinnamon Dolce Latte
Three weeks into school in the middle of a merger or "joint venture" at work and I am beginning to think that I have lost my mind.
I have started classes at the NIC again hoping to finish my education and everyone that is close to me is supportive, but secretly thinks that I am nuts. I seem to have that Superwoman complex thinking that I can be a full time mom, full time maid, full time nurse and part time student. I can do it, I am amazing. Oh yeah, and did I fail to mention that I am training for a triathalon as well? Pass the Zoloft.
I day in the life of Ashley is like no other. Good thing Andy doesn't care that I don't wear make up. Cause mine is fossilized by now. I wake up at 5:30, shower, pump (yes, I am STILL breastfeeding my 14 month old for those of you that aren't that close to me), grab a Clif bar and head to class or work. They are both at the same time on different days. I leave my venue after flying through the Starbucks drive thru once, twice or thrice and head to pick up some children that may or may not belong to me. I usually grab the best behaved ones at ABCD. ((KIDDING))
At home it is din din, cleaning, homework, showers, jammies and bed for the loud ones, I go on a run at this time. After my run I somehow make it to my bed, and then repeat the process again the next day.
I am asking for lots of prayers in this crazy time of my life. I need them. If I don't make it through, promise you will visit me in the nut house and bring me a Venti Soy Cinnamon Dolce Latte.
I have started classes at the NIC again hoping to finish my education and everyone that is close to me is supportive, but secretly thinks that I am nuts. I seem to have that Superwoman complex thinking that I can be a full time mom, full time maid, full time nurse and part time student. I can do it, I am amazing. Oh yeah, and did I fail to mention that I am training for a triathalon as well? Pass the Zoloft.
I day in the life of Ashley is like no other. Good thing Andy doesn't care that I don't wear make up. Cause mine is fossilized by now. I wake up at 5:30, shower, pump (yes, I am STILL breastfeeding my 14 month old for those of you that aren't that close to me), grab a Clif bar and head to class or work. They are both at the same time on different days. I leave my venue after flying through the Starbucks drive thru once, twice or thrice and head to pick up some children that may or may not belong to me. I usually grab the best behaved ones at ABCD. ((KIDDING))
At home it is din din, cleaning, homework, showers, jammies and bed for the loud ones, I go on a run at this time. After my run I somehow make it to my bed, and then repeat the process again the next day.
I am asking for lots of prayers in this crazy time of my life. I need them. If I don't make it through, promise you will visit me in the nut house and bring me a Venti Soy Cinnamon Dolce Latte.
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