Six Sentence Sunday... themed addition!

  Today's theme... Friendship!

She never knew how much she gave to me with just the corner of her smile.

Funny, that sometimes, I know more of them and what they are truly made of,  than I do of my own self.

All pink and polka dotty, she ran to the edge of life not knowing if she would fall or fly, but she met it headlong, yet still with grace.

No fear, no shame, just unconditional love for all that we are and all that we are not, is what a true friend holds for you.

When you go shopping, take a friend, for they are a much better mirror when you are trying on things fit for you and your life, yet to come!

 Just knowing that they are never out of reach, a friend can make you brave!

Christmas Fish

Christmas in July is over, a new Christmas will be here in the blink of an eye...

Why I awoke to have the urge to come here and be me, well, I really don't know.  Why Christmas, I am not exactly certain. What made this topic flash into view, cast in giant letters that are large enough to appear on the Times Square screen that flickers across the front-line of my brain?  IDK...

Okay, not the truth.  I was thinking of exercise and going swimming this morning, BUT I am so lazy, as I sit here in my bright floral pj's with the orange  and blue birds all over my legs (I love these pajama's) and I sip my coffee from a big bold mug.

Exercise... hmm.  Christmas, what?

Here's the thing.  I was very ill at the end of last year.  The kind of illness that sneaks up on you.  The kind of being sick to the level of almost losing your life.  The kind of sick where, when I came fully back to life, I never even understood what had happened to me for weeks and from time to time I know that I still don't get it.  As a matter of fact, I am still discovering things that happened while I was "unplugged" from the planet and only remotely related to" living".

Some of the things that happened are very sad, some of the things are very emotional, even more there are bright and shiny spots in the whole ordeal.  I think most of my family and friends have P.T.S. related to the time spent waiting for me to wake up and be me.  I am more than likely the one who had the easiest time, while I was on the vent.  When I came off of it, there were a few days, when I believe my loved one's thought I might have brain damage. I moaned and fought through the days and nights.  I was unreachable. Dark dreams, fighting to escape, I have many stories to share when I am ready.  But, this morning it is Christmas!

Although, I am rolling everyday since my hospital stay like I am back to "normal", I am far from that location in my life.  I am tired and my body is still weak and lacking.  I swear that I need a care giver and a house cleaner, to help me make it through a normal day or week.  By the end of the day, I am hollow and wilted. So, I know that I need to manage my hectic work life an find a way to exercise and build myself up to more than I am now.  I have done well and can walk, "Look Doc, no cane!"  However, it is time for the next phase, past the being able to step up on curb or the get my self up the stairs at work phase.

After this attempt at the  morning writing "cleanse", I really do need to get in gear and get my ass to the gym. But, Christmas, I mentioned Christmas... so let me tell you why.

Last Christmas Eve, was the evening I was removed from a regular hospital room and placed in the rehab unit.  When I woke up, post ventilator, I had lost a huge amount of muscle mass.  I could not stand or walk, I could not even really feed myself, (trust me there are plenty more stories)... I was just a blob.  I got pissed off at 100 pound physical therapist who could man-handle me, as she was doing her patient evaluation.  I am not accustomed to being the patient or to be the one to need help.  I helped patients and carried them from place to place if need be. It was harsh and cold to me, but I just did not understand that I was lucky to be in this shape instead of vanished from the planet, as the Julie I used to be.

So, I go to the rehab unit.  I have a brief family visit and then everyone was banished to go out and have Christmas Eve beyond the hospital, since they had spent so much time at my bedside for the last 15 days.  I thought I was good and happy, but when it became still and silent, when I could no longer cheat and hug the wall or the furniture to make my way to the bathroom (there are rules in rehab, because you cannot handle yourself, it's too dangerous!).  I got scared.  The reality of my condition was apparent.  Staff of the hospital often continued on to a disconcerting conversation after the "smiley"  introductions: "So, what quality of life did you have before this hospital stay"? "Did you have a caregiver?"
CAREGIVER, Quality of Life, WHAT?  I am the caregiver!  "Did you dress yourself?"  Really, who was I, what happened to me? Why was I eating broiled fish and broccoli on Christmas Eve, in a bed with the rails up and an alarm that sounded for the entire wing to hear, if I as much as set my big toe on the floor?

It was the low of low's, when the nurse explained all of the rules and left me with paperwork to date and sign.  It was Christmas Eve, December 24, 2013... I knew that.  I picked up the pen and sloshed my signature across the bottom line, it was not legible, but at least I had some clue how to sign it.  The date box loomed next to my unreadable name, but it remained empty.  I held the pen and stared out of the window, looking at a fabulous and amazing picture of some of my grandchildren in Christmas garb with huge smiles, a poster with Elton John in his big blue glasses, that read, "Julie, you and I have a date" ,  alongside a beautiful snow globe that a friend had brought me.
December 23, 2014... 12/24/13, no big deal.  The space remained blank and my panic mushroomed. What? What freaking reason could there be for such a disconnect between my brain and that blank on the page below me.  Actually,  I could not envision way it should look, the way I have it written in the above line here. There seemed to be no auto pilot, I guess that plane crashed somewhere in the storm of drugs and mechanical breathing that were the master's of my body for a while.  Yep, that plane must have went down in flames!  The Times Square billboard was dark and blank, there was not one letter or piece of punctuation to help me visualize and get anything written.  The date sounded empty in the hollow of my brain, as I screamed out in into the void inside of my head, it is CHRISTMAS EVE, DECEMBER 24TH!  I was lost, so I picked up the pen and scribbled.
Then I let lose the tears that dripped over the "Christmas Fish" remains.  I was extremely cautious not too move too much within the confines of my prison bed, lest the alarm would sound and alert everyone that I was lost...and not able to care for myself mentally nor physical.

The night got worse and more lonely... I even had an accident.  How low can you go?  I sent scrambled text messages to a friend, I just wanted to go home!  But, I could not write or remember or tell time off of the wall clock.  I could not really stand or walk.  The Christmas Fish was real, and I never want to go back there again.

So, today, how blessed that I rise and walk and write. Today I go out to become just a bit stronger, as I go to the gym to work and make myself healthy once more...This year, there will be no fish for Christmas!

P.S.  I do know why I came here to be me,  today... thank you, R.

Just a Dash...Makes It Your Choice!

As, I sit at my table thinking...

it's too quiet, do I want to turn on some tunes?  I hear the birds chirp and the rattle and bang as the old garbage truck creeps along my street to empty the large, green bins.  I look outside at the dreary day through the steam that rises from this amazing, second cup of coffee; the one topped with the generous dash of "my" Saigon cinnamon, a sprinkle which makes it all the more enjoyable to me.

I ran errands this morning, as the rain is coming later...
choosing things, like strawberries and whipped cream, steak and mushrooms and real butter from the grocery shelves. These things appeal to me,  my choices, small things... but are they?

While seated, I light my candles; the one a friend gave me and the other I bought to match.  They are to be nestled inside the antique summer lanterns that have been centered on my table.  Peachy candles, something different...and I changed my place-mats yesterday after polishing the table.  I chose the ones with the green dragonflies and the french words and postmarks that I pretend to understand.

Oh to go to France in the spring! Ooh, la la!

I felt a little lonely for a second and then I thought of that lovely bird call again and noticed that the garbage truck had left the perimeter of my conscious hearing.  Why, I am not lonely at all!  I am happy to be blessed with so many choices and so many things that make my life, my life.  A life that I can choose to fill with people and adventure or a life that lets me choose my quiet, precious surroundings.  A life that still lets me be the individual who builds it how it makes me happy, as I please, in any given moment (and if I am not happy, I can surely change it).

I can choose my mood, my shoes, what book to read, what to eat, when to sleep, where to go, who to see... WHATEVER I WANT!

And since my brief stint with a serious illness a few months back, I know that these choices may not always be within my control.  There may be another time that sadly lingers longer and renders me helpless to the whim and choices of others; even if necessary, still not my choices.
Perhaps not in my own comfy home, in my own comfy bed.  It has already happened, I was just lucky enough to live, make it home (with the wonderful help of family and awesome friends) and have this moment to sit here, sip the hot coffee out of my favorite cup and just write.

What we heard is true, "You don't know what you got till it's gone"!  

Be happy, look around you and understand that you re blessed to be you, in your space, making your own decisions!  Choose well and remember to enjoy and recognize the myriad of "little things" before a glitch sneaks up that allows them to be snatched from your grasp!

Add a dash of something, somewhere, every day to spice it up and make it your own...cinnamon is an excellent start!  But then, that's just me!

Reflections...

I find myself in circumstances unexpected, at the very least.
Plucked from my normal life and not even able to recall all of my recent days past...

I know that I am loved and I am on the edge of feeling safe once more, in my health.

My mind, not sure which way to turn... being eternally grateful, would be a start and should be the mainstay of my existence.
But, I am so human!  Not only frail of body with the assaults that it may encounter on this tricky planet, full of exposures for any weakened system; but human and frail in my mind, in my thoughts and needs.

Not having my normal life (although having life at all has been a huge gift that was restored to me after a very close call) can make me sad, confused, out of control and longing for where I was before I fell.

Why do we always need more than we have, when having anything at all is a blessing?