Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Happy Birthday!

It's dear husband's 33rd birthday today! Unfortunately for him, he has to work today and his mom left this morning, so it might not be the most exciting birthday ever. Not that you read this, but I love you honey and I hope your birthday is wonderful!


He got his present from his mom on Saturday - a wii Fit Plus, and the resort game that comes with the wii motion thingamajigger. Last night he opened his presents from me. I got him the dreaded snuggie I teased him about (comes with a free reading light!) and the memoirs of one of the nazis that was involved in trying to kill Hitler; he doesn't read much, but he looooooves WWII history, so hopefully he'll get to enjoy it. He got a cute card from the dogs, and one from me that is a picture of Obama. He's a staunch Republican (federalist, if you get him on the topic) and I'm a bleeding heart liberal, so I thought it was pretty amusing. Him...not so much. He hasn't opened the card frm his dad yet or the one from my parents, but they both contain checks. So maybe he can afford to buy ME a birthday present! #husbandfail


He officially had his birthday dinner on Friday (Marie Livingstons, a local steakhouse. He loves him some prime rib), but hopefully we can find something a little special tonight, other than the leftover baked ziti from last night. If I can handle being in the car after my followup with the surgeon, I might find him a cake, though I don't know how I'll fit 33 candles on it...

Who I Am - An Intro

I'm a bunch of contradictions and a big ball of worry. But that's not the important part. Here's what you need to know to get where I'm coming from:

I've been married about 6 months to a man I've been with for 3 1/2 years. It's more work than I thought it would be. Getting married meant a lot of upheaval; I moveod from my home in Alabama into his home in Tallahassee, then again when we finally closed on our dream home. We combined two sets of two dogs. We've never lived together before, and as my blog title would suggest, we're still learning how to do it.

I graduated from law school in May, but I haven't passed the bar yet. Right now I'm staying home during the day and taking care of the cleaning while I look for a job. I looooove football; my college teams are Miami and Alabama, and my pro teams are the Redskins and Ravens. My husband, M, is a die-hard FSU fan. Football season gets interesting around here.

I'm very close to my dad. My mother left when I was a baby, but my stepmom has been around and been my mother since I was little. I get along great with my in-laws, which is always nice. We've talked about trying for a baby next summer, in 2010, but we'll see where things are with money and my health.

Ah, my health. I had chronic, intractable migraines, but I've finally found the right drug cocktail. Functioning is nice, no? I have a lot of other, more minor health issues, but I'm doing alright. As I write this, I'm recovering from surgery, for the 5th time in 2 years.

M and I have a lot of bad luck (never go to a restaurant with us; though we're easy to please, something almost always goes wrong), but we love each other. So I'm writing about my experiences as we try to figure it all out, hopefully with a little bit of humor and grace.

Best of 09 - Day 8

 
  
    
  

 

December 8 Moment of peace. An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?

Finally an easy one! My peace, my heaven, comes when I lay in my hammock in the sun, with my babies  running and playing around me, or laying in the sun with me. The sun on my face feels wonderful, and it's always fun to watch my dogs wrestle, or watch them relax in their own little heavenly way. It's a time when I can just let all my stresses go, and be in the moment. Or, contemplate something that's been bothering me in a more distanced way. I'll usually bring out my mp3 player, and maybe a magazine.

A certain amount of sun, of course, is good for mood and health and circadian rhythms. Being in the south, it doesn't take long for laying int he sun to become uncomfortably hot, so I usually dont lay out too long. But while I'm out there, nothing is wrong.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Updates

My uncle officially had a massive heart attack. Thank God he's doing better than expected. We don't know what will happen next, with the surgeries he needs but is too weak to have, or when he'll be released. But so far, so good. That's as much as you can as for.


They've built a new wing at the hospital, so my dad and aunt didn't have to go to the same ICU where they essentially lost my grandmother. I also was concerned that this might remind my dad of his father, who had several heart attacks which ultimately killed him. Luckily, that hadn't occurred to my dad. Hopefully I didn't get the idea stuck in his head.

We put up our tree tonight. Well, I did, with M and his mom giving input. It's blue and silver, in homage to my Jewish stepmom, and looks lovely. We managed to get a few shots of Loki in the antlers. In past years I've sent out Christmas cards with Buck in antlers, but he won't play along this year.


M's mom is leaving tomorrow, which is sad. We had a nice little productive day today, running some errands, putting some photos in frames printed off the computer (they look great!) and getting the tree up. I'm feeling a little manic now and thinking off a bunch of thigns I want to do, but I'll be off to bed soon.

M's fishing buddy's family had invited M to go to the Gator Bowl with them, being hardcore FSU fans. As long as M spends the night before with me and doesn't have to shell out a ton of money, I can't really complain. I'll miss him during his brief stay in Jax, but it'll be really nice for him. The game sold out in two hours, so he's lucky. I wish I could go to Pasadena!

I go back to the surgeon tomorrow. Hopefully it'll be all good news. Wish me luck!

There's something about Mary

I had some photos of my mom from when I was little that I wanted to scan and include, but in the chaos that is my house right now, I can't locate them, so this is going to be pretty text heavy.

My biological mother, Mary, was 17 when she married my dad and had me.  9 months later, she left us...for the guy down the hall. She got her divorce, then had my little sister, who never knew I existed until she was an adult. I grew up with my da d, who raised me to feel sympathy for my mother's rough life (he was her second marriage, her parents were awful, etc) instead of hating her. Even when she stole money from us...twice. Even when she told him she wanted to get back together, only to go out for a bit and never come back. Even when we learned she was a drug adict, stripper, and prostitute. After a time in 5th grade when she called because she first wanted to get back together with my dad (no dice, we were about to move in with my stepmom and my dad knew better than to trust Mary now), then needed to "borrow" from my college fund and my dad to drive her all over the place so she could get from Virginia to a guy in Florida, we didnt hear from her again. In Florida she managed to rack up multiple felonies before moving to the west coast and getting a few more. She moved on to her 5th husband, and we didn't hear a peep from her until I was 23.

That year, my little sister found my father and we got in touch. We'd met once when I was about 4 and my mother actually showed up for a visit. She put us in some guy's truck together and told me this was my sister. Very confusing for so young a child, and my sister was too young to remember it at all. So we started a relationship. A few months later, my sister heard through other family members that our mother was within days of dying from liver cancer and wanted to see her. My parents, my dad and my stepmom, hired an investigator and found Mary for me. We began to talk, and my sister and I made plans to go to Oregon and see her. My sister, who had already been abandoned by our mother twice, ended up bailing, and I went alone.

I went to see my mother 3 times, I think, and we talked al the time, on the phone and on the internet. Though I was very sick at the time, being hospitalized twice for migraines that I couldn't get rid of, and I ended up losing my job and having to sell my house and move back home, Mary kept up the story that she was on death's door. She was very involved in my life, sending me stuffed animals at holidays and my birthday, getting upset if I didn't return her calls promptly. I became horribly depressed, not knowing if my migraines would get better and believing that I finally had a relationship with my mother only to lose her to liver cancer. At my dad's house, I started getting better and moved to Alabama for law school. My mother stuck around for a month or two of school, about a year after we "met", before disappearing again. Abandonment #2.

I still don't know what happened. My best guess is that she knew the jig was up; it was pretty hard to believe that she really had end-stage liver cancer when she wasn't getting treatment and was still drinking. She'd gotten off the crack and heroin and pain pills and whatever else, but she was still falling over drunk a lot and slept most of the day during my visits. It' makes me unable to believe all the answers I thought I'd gotten from her about why she left and the reasons for the way she'd lived her life since then. I know that a lot of things she said were wrong, others were flat out lies. She frequently confused me and my sister, and was adamant that things that had happened to my sister had happened to me. She'd claimed that she stopped calling because she'd been told that I'd died in a car crash and my sister had been murdered. I do believe that my sister's dad might have made up a lie to protect my sister from her, but I don't believe he would have included me in that lie. I do believe that my mother's addict brain honestly believes a lot of what she said, or maybe she just repeated the lies so much they became the truth to her. I'll never know.

Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's all passed in 2006 with no word from my mother. Her internet presence disappeared. She stopped calling. In January, I happened to catch her online, and she acted like nothing had happened, like we'd been talking just the day before. I was dumbfounded. Then, she fell off the face of the earth again. Meanwhile, I had met relatives on my mother's side, cousins and an aunt, who are still a part of my life. Word would come to me that my mother had died; for awhile, I'd been able to laugh off the rumors because I was talking to her, but now, I didn't know. In the fall of 2007, I heard again that she had died, and been dead for awhile. I panicked  because I didn't know. I ran internet searches. I called the police station, asking if her name had come up. It hadn't. My dad called, trying to find out for me. She claimed that she didn't have my phone number after I'd moved (which had never changed). My dad gave her my number again, and she promised she was going to call on Saturday. Of course, the call never came.

The holidays and my birthday passed again once, then twice. Still nothing. I graduated law school. I got married. My sister was there, as was my cousin, who is the daughter of my mother's brother, who had passed. Her mother, who had been a good friend of Mary's, was supposed to come but was ill. My "aunt's" son, who at 16 had visiting my mother and been offered heroin, never RSVPd. My stepmother fulfilled the motherly duties at the wedding, as she had earned the right to do.

After the wedding, it felt wrong to me that so much had happened - the wedding, graduation, 4 surgeries at that point - and my mother had no idea. So I called. She was angry at me for calling at first, playing the victim and accusing me of trying to make her feel bad. I guess she was drunk. She called me again the next day. We were in contact for a week or two, then she said she was going to rehab for three months. I called around a month later, and low and behold, she was home. She said her insurance had forced her to leave rehab after 13 days. She said she had a card for me. It never came. Months later, she emailed me, saying she wanted to tell me the truth. I emailed her back, and then she balked, saying that if I wanted to talk to her, I needed to call her. I didn't, not knowing how to react but being sure that I couldn't stay calm through a conversation. And that was it. I haven't heard anything else. I tried calling her last night, wondering if she even realized it was my birthday. She didn't answer; maybe she was out, but it seems more likely that she didn't want to talk to me. She hasn't called back. I called her again this afternoon, and again, nothing.

I know all the obvious things - it's better that I grew up with a relatively normal father and stepmother, who are protective and honest. I know logic says I should just let her go and stay away, but I can't. I can't bear the thought that she won't know when she's a grandmother, that I won't know if she's ill or dies. I hate that I don't know what's true, and that maybe I never can whether I have a relationship or not, because she doesn't know. She's an addict, and she clearly thinks like an addict. I don't know what her games are - why she came into my life, only to cruelly pretend to be terminal when I was going through so much, and only to walk away yet again. I don't know why she read from a webpage of mine that had jokes from college between my friends and I, to my father and told him he should look at it himself because she was concerned, when she had told me the page was hilarious. It was full of the kind of stuff you don't want your dad to see. I don't know why she told me she wanted to talk to my dad, who is a recovering alcoholic, because he was the only one who would understand what she was going through, only to yell at him instead and accuse him of trying to keep her away from me. I can't understand her motivations.

And it sucks that she's chosen not to be a part of my life. Whether or not Im better off for it, I have no doubt that these decisions are about what's best for her, not what's best for me. She's never given me a choice.

Here's the people that have chosen to be my family and be in my life. I love them all. 

My sister, brother in law, and cousin from my mom's side



I guess I'm still trying to earn my mother's love, and I don't know how, and it's dumb because the woman that has always been my mother, my stepmom, Suzie, loves me unconditionally. But the heart wants what it wants...and if you're reading this, Mary, all I've ever wanted is for you to stick around.

Best of 09 - Day 7

  
    
  



December 7 Blog find of the year. That gem of a blog you can't believe you didn't know about until this year.http://miss-kriss.blogspot.com/
One of my favorite blogs, new to me, is Kristin at Miss Kriss . She's a law school classmate of mine. We were more acquaintances than friends, though she was always nice when we crossed paths. She's really funny and her posts are full of pretty pictures. Everyone loves that, right?

Sunday, December 6, 2009

It just keeps getting better

Don't read this if you're easily super-grossed out or queasy. I don't know how to do a cut, so....sorry!




I mentioned earlier my sucky, gross open wound. I change the dressing as often as I can stand it, but apparently, the smell of the leakage (blood, and fluids related to the body forming nice healthy new cells in the wound) is bad enough to make my husband puke when he tries to hug me. FML.

Here's the gory details of the surgery, if youre interested: (run now, if you're not)




I had a pilonidal cyst that kept recurring, as they tend to do. These cysts develop around the buttcrack when hair or skin causes what's basically an abcess. I had it removed by the dermatologist in August, but he didn't know what it was and he closed it back up. This tends to cause them to recur, which it did shortly after getting the stitches out, and this time it didnt go away. So my family practitioner referred me to a surgeon, and before I knew it I was scheduled for surgery. There's only a 20% recurrence rate if you leave them open to heal from the inside out. Unfortunately, this is about a two month process, then another year or so for the scar to continue configuring itself. So I can't sit down normally because it hurts (my cyst is near the top of my buttcrack, luckily not directly over the tailbone; they can go as deep as the bone) and I have to sit on something so I don't leak. They're supposed to leak blood and exudate, which is secreted as the body heals the wound. I can already tell it's gotten smaller. I have to pack the wound myself twice a day (good thing I can do it myself, cause M wouldn't be able to), which is no fun, and now that I'm in a very bloody phase, I have to change the dressing over the wound as well as my pants multiple times a day. I can't wear jeans, only pants loose around the butt. Unfortunately, old blood stinks, as does the exudate. The more time I'm upright, the worse the leaking gets; walking around along time like during my shopping trip with M's mom last week is painful, and I end up with a big, noticeable wet spot on my butt. Very embarassing. I'm still paying the dermotologist that treated the cyst the wrong way; now, I'm getting the bill from the surgeon, 10K for the hospital and lab and pharamacy, and I'm sure a bill from the anesthesiologist and possibly for the nurses is forthcoming. This will all be worth it a year from now if the cyst, which leaks itself and becomes painful, hasn't recurred.

In the meantime, it's very embarassing, inconvenient, and uncomfortable.