I lost my job this morning. Afterward, I expected I would sit in my car and cry. But I surprised myself. I’m actually feeling a lot of peace. Maybe I will melt down tomorrow. But today I am okay. It’s moments like these when this thing–this disease, whatever it is–becomes real. I suddenly realize there is no… Read More Lost
Like my parents, I’ve always had a somewhat ageless appearance. For years Dad’s babyface and Mom’s petite figure have kept everyone guessing. And for some reason, people tend to think I’m younger than I am. Often, when my little sister and I go out together, others suppose she is the eldest even though we are eleven… Read More Tennis balls on my walker
The medical limbo we’ve entered is strange and daunting. These waters are deep, dark and turbulent. Outside an epic storm rages, tossing my ship and drowning the decks with mountainous waves. Clouds loom and laugh, blocking the light, only visible with the crack and crash of daggered lightning. Collapsed in the wheelhouse, I watch raindrops pound… Read More Someone to Steer the Ship
Friday was my big appointment with the rheumatologist. The one I’ve been waiting months for. It was supposed to be DIAGNOSIS Day. I was supposed to find DIRECTION. We were going to develop a plan of attack and beat this thing. I was hoping for lots of ANSWERS!!! (Okay, so that doesn’t start with ‘D,’ but… Read More My very own ‘D-Day’
A couple years ago, my stepson came to visit for Thanksgiving. We were overjoyed to see him, but startled by his appearance. While away at college, he had been very ill and dropped about 35 lbs. He looked so skinny and frail, and his clothes hung loosely about him. Everywhere we went, he was met with… Read More Update: el pelo (that’s “hair” in Spanish)
It’s everywhere. In my bed. On my clothes. In my food. All over the house. I even spot strands of it stuck to my children and my husband. Probably from hugs. I’ve been out of ICU for about 12 weeks, and now I’m losing my hair. Handfuls, brushes and combs full. For the past month. And it’s… Read More Losing it
“He once thought it himself, that he might die of grief: for his wife, his daughters, his sisters, his father, and master [all dead] … But the pulse, obdurate, keeps its rhythm. You think you cannot keep breathing, but your ribcage has other ideas, rising and falling, emitting sighs. You must thrive in spite of… Read More Being still
Miracle Max: It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive. With all dead, well, with all dead there’s usually only one thing you can do. Inigo Montoya: What’s that? Miracle Max: Go through his clothes and… Read More The Walking Dead
MamaCrossroads 
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