Like a Dumb Animal...

Pain.

I've been thinking about it for a while. I'm in pain. Of course, so is everyone else. Pain happens to everyone all the time. I'm not really worried about being in pain, though. I'm starting to think I have a high tolerance for the stuff.

Case in point:
About 20 years ago I had a very sharp pain in my lower back. It was constant. I couldn't do anything without it grabbing and sending sharp shooting sensation down my leg. My leg also went numb quite often. I went to a chiropracter a few times and the pain went away for about a day. Bad backs kind of run in my family. My dad and my brother both had 2 back surgeries. I read all about the surgery and wanted no part of it. So I just suffered. For about 2 years I suffered. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and went to a regular doctor. He sent me to a physical therapist who worked on me daily for 2 weeks. No more pain. I couldn't believe it and kicked myself for not going sooner. I had to kick pretty hard though because, remember, I have a high tolerance for pain.

Case in point 2:
From about 20 years ago to 4 years ago I would have extreme uterine pain monthly at mid-cycle. The pain was so severe that it was worse than labor. I went to my gyno about it a couple of times. He was baffled, even did an ultrasound during one bout and found nothing. I told him "I just want to know if it's dangerous to my health. I can put up with a lot of pain." He never did really find out what the problem was, but when I had my hysterectomy 4 years ago the problem was solved.

And speaking of my hysterectomy, when I woke up from the surgery I thought, "Wow, they cured my back! It doesn't hurt anymore!" (yes, the back pain has returned, and no, I haven't been back to the physical therapist) 5 days later I ran out of Percocet and realized they hadn't cured anything.

Case in point numero 3:
I have had five children. Count them. FIVE! And I had one shot of deadening with only one of them. ONE! It was a thing called a "paracervical block". I don't even think they do those anymore. That was my first labor and delivery. The rest of my children I bore without ANYTHING. I didn't even have an IV. And one of my kids was born posterior. I was wondering about how I handled the pain. I know on TV you see women screaming and yelling and carrying on. I asked my husband if I was like that, cause I really don't remember being a noisy yeller. He said no. He said I just did a lot of panting and focusing, kind of like a birthing mama dog.

The reason I've been thinking about all this lately is because I have a friend who goes to the doctor for everything. If she gets a pain, she's in there getting checked out. Why don't I do that?

Just too dumb, I guess.

Cause for Rejoicing and Mourning

Having a friend who is suffering from overwhelming health problems is a difficult place to be. Do you offer sympathy, do you hover, visit, visit with an upbeat attitude, visit with somber serious eyes? Do you stay away, send messages, write, email, call, ask relatives about them, just worry and wonder? Always you pray, but what else?

For some, knowing what to say and do is natural. Some people just do and say the right things. I've always struggled to be one of those people.

I think its difficult because I project myself into the sufferer's shoes. I think I would want some space. I think I would not want a lot of attention. I don't know, but I think I would feel smothered by all the attention and so I hesitate to push myself on anyone. I'm probably wrong. I would probably welcome the support with open arms.

I've been pondering these things because of my friend, Scott. He has a liver transplant last May and has been doing so well. Then about 2 weeks ago they discovered a major problem. The hepatic artery collapsed. He had to have surgery. It was a scary time. And he's been miserable. Today, though, I heard he was released from the hospital. He's doing well and his liver function seems to be normal. It's such good news.

But it seems you can't have good without something bad to balance life out a little. This morning, as Scott is being released from the hospital, there was a terrible accident. A 17 year old boy, a neighbor of Scott's, was driving to school on icy, slick roads. He didn't make it to school.

There will be a funeral in a few days.

Take it or leave it, just don't complain

We have a candy dish in our office which we try to keep full. I usually buy the candy and try to get a variety. Students are always popping in to take one. Usually its a positive experience and we love to see how one little bite-sized laffy-taffy can brighten a student's day. In the last couple of weeks, though, I noticed this one student coming in very regularly. He usually takes a bunch of candy. He's not one of our majors, so we don't really know him, but haven't really minded him coming and making a pig out of himself until today.

He breezes in and paws through the bowl.
"Don't you have any good candy? This is all gross"

Excuse me? We don't even know you, and you are complaining about free goodies?

I think we may have to just stock the "gross" candy for a while until he gets out of the habit of coming in.

Prayers Needed

My friend, Scott, is not out of the woods. He survived the surgery. For my anonymous buddy, here's the link to his wife's blog.
http://bbfranson.blogspot.com/

Not Expected

I was given the blog address today of the wife of my friend who is back in the hospital with liver transplant complications. She is actually a cousin of mine, although I know her husband better than I know her. I decided to start at the beginning of her blog so that I could really see what was going on with him.

And suddenly I came across one of her entries that talked about my dad.

Wow. I wasn't expecting that. It gave me kind of an odd feeling to read about him through someone elses eyes. Then I found another entry again mentioning dad. Then there was another talking about coming to my dad's funeral.

I have to admit I had a few little cries.

Fluent?

Many many years agoI took Spanish. 2 years in high school and 1 year in college. I just never really got it, though. The professor once said that you will know you're getting fluent when you start dreaming in Spanish. That never happened to me.

An interesting thing HAS started happening to me in the last week, though. I'm dreaming in art.
Yes, you read that right. I have a dream and whatever I look at in the dream I begin to see in terms of how it's drawn.

My closet:
The angle of the door that sits part way open. The heaviness of that line in comparison with the more delicate lines of the hangers and clothes inside.

My dinner:
The ellipses of the plate in perspective. The way it sits up off the table.

My toothbrush:
When held this way how large the head of the brush would be in the drawing with the far end diminishing down to nothing.

I think I'm becoming fluent in art.

Either that or I've been spending way to much time doing it.

Highs and Lows

This day was a roller coaster of emotions. This morning I was able to see, hug, and visit with one of my very best friends from high school. What an awesome thing it is to meet up with old friends. I gave her my blog address, so if you're reading this, Barb, I'm happy we reconnected.

I've seen her maybe 4 or 5 times since we both got married. I haven't communicated with her for the last 10 or 12 years. Then a few weeks ago I found her on facebook. I found out she was coming to town on Tuesday and today we caught up a little. I hope we stay in touch this time.

Then:
This afternoon I went to class. We had a substitute. That is not a good thing. Not that the substitute isn't great, he is. It's because our regular teacher is back in Salt Lake City in the hospital he received his liver transplant in last May. Things are kind of scary right now. He's having surgery tomorrow. I hope everything goes okay. Not only would I really be sad about him not coming back to teach us, but he is my friend and an awesome gentle person. I'm worried about him and his family.