Of Storms and Peace

Navigating this road called life

Facing my Anger: Praying for Healing

I have been thinking about my anger a lot lately. Someone recently called me out on my anger over my past diagnosis, the repeated theory that all my symptoms are being caused by psychological distress and nothing physiological. How that anger and hurt shows itself when I’m speaking to others facing a similar diagnosis. That my anger isn’t always helpful when trying to encourage others. It is true. There is a lot of anger, and it tends to overflow when I hear yet again another person is having all their problems “dismissed” as a psychological thing, when their meds are withheld under that assumption, when they are told they just need counseling, or worse yet, accused of faking.

After what I’ve been through, my anger is justified. My frustration is real. My distrust is understandable. I’ve had whole years of my life stolen from me because of those assumptions and theories. I’m probably much worse now than I would have had to be if things were handled differently. It is likely I will forever have some scarring left over the abuse I was subjected to. I can’t change the past, and I can’t guarantee the future. And yet, somehow for my own sake, I have to let go of what I can. I need healing, not only physically, but emotionally as well.

I don’t know what it will look like, I don’t know how long it will take. I’ve entertained the idea of stepping away, avoiding any means that I might hear of another person struggling like I did with doctors…. But realistically I would have to sequester myself away from civilization to do that… Even if I stayed away from social media I would hear something somewhere else. Besides, I really do have a desire to encourage others, and do what I can to help. But I have been reflective on my methods and realize there is room for change.

I have spent a lot of time praying about it. I need healing. I need to find a healthy way to help. I need to find a healthy way to look forward to the future, without fear, without constant frustration and disappointment. I just realized today how many aspects of my illness I gave up trying to get help for because they were dismissed in times past. I just live with them, and hope that the meds I’m on now will be enough to get me by.

Honestly, if I didn’t need the meds I’m on now I would just rather forget the whole trying to get medical help altogether. And yet, I keep on reminding myself, it really isn’t an “us vs them” thing…. While it sometimes feels like it, many doctors truly are trying to help, and have helped many… I have to change my attitude.

So while I’m still facing physical challenges, and have the likelyhood of my dystonia and whatever else continuing to progress and worsen in the future, I also need healing from the past. The emotional trauma of what I went through over the years trying to find help and being denied one way or another, the anger, the resentment, the hurt, the pain… It’s real. It haunts me, the doubts and fears continue to try to taunt me. I pray for healing and somehow the ability to let go.

Chronic Pain – Please Understand

I read this post this morning and could identify with it. Annie put into words many things I’ve thought and felt over the years. Many of us with chronic pain can relate and wish others could understand. With Annie’s permission, I’m re-posting what she wrote. I hope it encourages others like it did me, and maybe help a few friends who want to understand along the way. Annie says:

Having chronic pain means many things change, and a lot of the changes are invisible.
Unlike having cancer or being hurt in an accident, most people do not understand chronic pain and its effects, and of those that think they know, many are actually misinformed. In the spirit of informing those who wish to understand: These are the things that I would like you to understand about me before you judge me:

Please understand that being sick doesn’t mean I’m not still a human being. I have to spend most of my day in considerable pain and exhaustion, and if you visit, sometimes I probably don’t seem like much fun to be with, but I’m still me, stuck inside this body. I still worry about work, my family, my friends, and most of the time, I’d still like to hear you talk about yours, too.

Please understand the difference between “happy” and “healthy.” When you’ve got the flu you probably feel miserable with it, but I’ve been sick for years. I can’t be miserable all the time. In fact, I work hard at not being miserable. So, if you’re talking to me and I sound happy, it means I’m happy. That’s all. It doesn’t mean that I’m not in a lot of pain, or not extremely tired, or that I’m getting better, or any of those things. Please don’t say, “Oh, you’re sounding better!” or “But you look so healthy!” I am merely coping. I am sounding happy and trying to look normal. If you want to comment on that, you’re welcome to.

Please understand that being able to stand up for 10 minutes doesn’t necessarily mean that I can stand up for 20 minutes, or an hour. Just because I managed to stand up for 30 minutes yesterday doesn’t mean that I can do the same today. With a lot of diseases you’re either paralyzed, or you can’t move. With this one, it gets more confusing every day. It can be like a yo-yo. I never know from day to day how I am going to feel when I wake up. In most cases, I never know from minute to minute. That is one of the hardest and most frustrating components of chronic pain.

Please repeat the above paragraph substituting “sitting,” “walking,” “thinking,” “concentrating,” “being sociable,” and so on; it applies to everything. That’s what chronic pain does to you.

Please understand that chronic pain is variable. It’s quite possible (and for many, it’s common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, while the next day I’ll have trouble getting to the next room. Please don’t attack me when I’m ill by saying, “But you did it before!” or “Oh, come on, I know you can do this!” If you want me to do something, then ask if I can. In a similar vein, I may need to cancel a previous commitment at the last minute. If this happens, please do not take it personally. If you are able to, please try to always remember how very lucky you are, to be physically able to do all of the things that you can do.

Please understand that “getting out and doing things” does not make me feel better, and can often make me seriously worse. You don’t know what I go through or how I suffer in my own private time. Telling me that I need to exercise or do some things to “get my mind off of it” may frustrate me to tears, and is not correct. If I was capable of doing some things any or all of the time, don’t you know that I would? I am working with my doctors and I am doing what I am supposed to do. Another statement that hurts is, “You just need to push yourself more, try harder.” Obviously, chronic pain can affect the whole body, or be localized to specific areas. Sometimes participating in a single activity for a short or a long period of time can cause more damage and physical pain than you could ever imagine. Not to mention the recovery time, which can be intense. You can’t always read it on my face or in my body language. Also, chronic pain may cause secondary depression (wouldn’t you get depressed and down if you were hurting constantly for months or years?), but it is not created by depression.

Please understand that if I say I have to sit down, lie down, stay in bed, or take these pills now, that probably means that I do have to do it right now, it can’t be put off or forgotten just because I’m somewhere, or I’m right in the middle of doing something. Chronic pain does not forgive, nor does it wait for anyone.

If you want to suggest a cure to me, please don’t. It’s not because I don’t appreciate the thought, and it’s not because I don’t want to get well. Lord knows that isn’t true. In all likelihood, if you’ve heard of it or tried it, so have I. In some cases, I have been made sicker, not better. This can involve side effects or allergic reactions, as is the case with herbal remedies. It also includes failure, which in and of itself can make me feel even lower. If there were something that cured, or even helped people with my form of chronic pain, then we’d know about it. There is worldwide networking (both on and off the Internet) between people with chronic pain. If something worked, we would KNOW. It’s definitely not for lack of trying. If, after reading this, you still feel the need to suggest a cure, then so be it. I may take what you said and discuss it with my doctor.

If I seem touchy, it’s probably because I am. It’s not how I try to be. As a matter of fact, I try very hard to be normal. I hope you will try to understand. I have been, and am still, going through a lot. Chronic pain is hard for you to understand unless you have had it. It wreaks havoc on the body and the mind. It is exhausting and exasperating. Almost all the time, I know that I am doing my best to cope with this, and live my life to the best of my ability. I ask you to bear with me, and accept me as I am. I know that you cannot literally understand my situation unless you have been in my shoes, but as much as is possible, I am asking you to try to be understanding in general.

In many ways I depend on you, people who are not sick. I need you to visit me when I am too sick to go out. You are my link to the “normalcy” of life. You can help me to keep in touch with the parts of life that I miss and fully intend to undertake again, just as soon as I am able.

I know that I asked a lot from you, and I do thank you for reading. It really does mean a lot.

30 lbs and Counting

If the numbers on my scale can be trusted, I have officially lost more than 30 lbs now!

These last 10 took longer than I had hoped. There were more than a few mornings that I was pretty disgusted with what I saw on the scale, but it inspired me to keep at it. I did keep reminding myself that muscle weighs more than fat. The fact that I was able to work on building some muscle was a good thing! With the help of proper meds I have finally been able to move more and do more things, and that makes a huge difference all around. A good difference for my health and well being, even if it did made the numbers on the scale move down slower. As much as I want my weight to go down, better overall health is the ultimate goal.

I suppose if I had included measurements into my list of ways to track my progress that would have helped on those days the scale refused to show an improvement. Alas however, I decided it would be too much bother, and still really have no desire to do it. So I stick to the scale and celebrate when I see the numbers going down.

I’m still working on customizing how the diet plan works best for me. I have a lot more weight I need to lose, and am determined to do it in such a way I can continue to keep it off. This is a lifetime commitment, not a quick fix.

I would really love to see the next 10 come off a little faster, but I’m thankful for the significant progress I’ve made so far.

Close Call

I’ve been extra careful to make sure I don’t forget my meds, trying to do my best to recover from the consequences of my forgetting earlier.

Yesterday,  Saturday, home alone with the kids while my husband was at work, I dumped the pills from my pill sorter into my hand, gave them my usual quick glance over and popped them into my mouth. Suddenly it dawned on me I had seen two baclofen pills instead of one in the mix and quickly spit it out. “Wow, that was a close call” I thought. I was too busy however to really dwell on it much.

That night I looked at my pills a little more carefully and discovered another med had been doubled. I really must have been distracted when I was filling the pill sorter.

It has fully sunken in now just how bad it would have been had I swallowed that extra baclofen (and so confusing had I not known what had happened). I remember how scary the side effects were when I first started taking it, and how even the slightest increase later would affect me. It took months of misery to carefully work up to this dose. Suddenly doubling it would have caused serious consequences, and I was home alone with my little ones.

I am so relieve I was spared.

For sure I’m going to be even more careful to check the pills and double check them before taking them from now on.

Renewed Beginnings

Just like the weather, life seems to be all about seasons. Outside spring has finally come. It comes with turbulent weather and yet so much hope and beauty is springing up in it’s wake. The grass is getting greener, the trees are starting to leaf out, and the flowers are beginning to bloom. It’s wonderful. A welcome change after a long winter.

I myself seem to be entering a spring season of my life. There are are signs of new beginnings, but not without the storms and uncertainty that accompanies them.

We had a pretty nasty thunderstorm outside last night, hail was beating against the house, and the lightening and thunder didn’t seem to ever stop. It seemed fitting as I had been going through mental, emotional, and physical storms myself. Looking out the window this morning I was struck by how beautiful it looked outside post storm. Everything is so much greener and continues to grow. Not all storms leave beauty behind, some cause devastating damage, but this time around, I have hope that my inner storms will just bring about more growth in me.

I have begun to struggle with guilt… Somehow the guilt now is more than when I was so very sick. I think it came when I realized I will never be able to catch up and make up for all the time lost, time I was too sick to keep up with things. I had a growing sense that I had failed in so many areas, worse than any of it I felt I had failed my children. The inner storm brewed for a while finally breaking out in all it’s fury yesterday. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I was so tired, and very cranky and frustrated. I realized I needed to let it out, and shared with a few people some of my inner struggles and how guilt is trying to take over. I’m so glad I did because I was encouraged and reminded to keep my perspective.

I have a lot of sorting out to do. Kind of what yard work is like in the spring, picking up sticks, removing the debris of old growth, making room for the new. This is indeed a new season of my life. I’m able to do more, but like any other human being I can’t do it all. I will never be able to totally catch up or make up for all that couldn’t be done while I was so so sick. I’m going to have to come to terms with that. I am going to have to let go of some things, to prioritize how my waking hours are spent…. I don’t know what that will look like, but I do know it will change over time…

Hopefully I can let go of the guilt and get back to doing the best I can and trust it will somehow be enough. I love my little family dearly, and want to make the most of what I can do now that my worse symptoms are better controlled. Speaking of, that was another thing adding to the mess the past few days, my mind was so occupied with other things that I failed to remember to take a few doses of my meds… I paid for it (glad to know they work!) and realized it’s not just for me, but for my family too that I must make sure to faithfully take them.

I really am hoping this is a new season of spring for me and will blossom into a great new beginning. However it turns out.

If this were my Last Post

If this were my last post, what would I want to say?

I have a special compassion for those of you who have heard “it’s stress” for what ever illness or disorder that is afflicting you. I hear you when you say you are weary and discouraged, frustrated and don’t know where to turn next. I don’t blame you one bit for wanting to take a break from fighting to find a doctor or specialist willing to help, and know what it feels like to just want to give up trying altogether…

I was there, ready to give up. I was quite serious about saying I was only going to try this one more doctor and then that was it. I was so weary of the process of new patient forms, telling my story and symptoms all over again, only to be given little to no help at all, time and time again. Worse yet, to be left feeling like somehow it was my fault I was so sick, that my mind was messing with me, if I just really wanted to get well enough I could. It was four and a half years of this. I would take breaks, I sought alternative treatment, I had to wait months to be seen, and then have to start all over again. In the meantime, my condition progressed and I got sicker and sicker, trapped by a body that was refusing to work like it should, tortured by pain and becoming more and more debilitated.

I hit rock bottom wondering how and why no one would give me the treatment I so desperately needed. Those of us with a stress (or some sort of psychogenic) diagnosis, find ourselves often undertreated, untreated, or even mistreated… I had experienced them all. I had had specialists smile cheerfully and tell me that the good news is I didn’t have a degenerative disease. I know that is good news, but it didn’t negate how seriously I was suffering. I had them dismiss the idea that my breathing difficulties were anything to worry about. At first I was angry, encouraging my husband to sue said doctors if I were to die. But as time past, the thought of dying from a complication from my disorders was a welcome thought. It would end my suffering, and the burden of my family having to care for me.

What kept me going was my faith and family, and having access to the internet where there were wonderful support groups. I discovered so many people who not only knew and understood my symptoms because they had them too, but also knew of the weary journey of trying to find someone to diagnose and treat them. They kept cheering me on, reminding me just how many years and how many doctors it took before they were given the treatment they needed to help make their symptoms a little more bearable. My heart breaks for those who are suffering without any sort of support system, be it family, or even a group online… I know how all alone I felt before knowing such support systems existed. I think it would be safe to say, I would have given up trying to get help much sooner if it weren’t for them.

If this were my last post I would say, If I gave up, I would have missed out.

I don’t ever want to forget what it was like… The pain, the physical misery, the feeling of hopelessness when no one was giving me a chance. I don’t want to forget how after years of research and other events happening I finally was able to start slowly getting some of my symptoms recognized as legitimate genetic conditions that were discovered were not caused by “stress” after all, and responded to treatment. I don’t want to forget that even then, the most debilitating disorder of all was still considered “atypical” and could only be explained by “stress”…

Because that’s not where I am now. I finally have a doctor who is determined to do whatever it takes to help manage my symptoms and try to slow the progression of the disorder. He made sure to monitor my progress closely having me come back frequently, instead of saying “I’ll see you in 6 months” or worse, completely dismiss me as some others had. He celebrated the victories, making a big deal over even the slightest hint of progress.

After a few months of my body adjusting to the side effects, and finally getting the dosage increased to where it needed to be I finally am experiencing a measure of relief I had begun to think was never meant for me. More often than not, by the end of the day I simply marvel over all the things I had been able to do that day. It’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Then I shake my head and think just how close I came to missing out on this. It’s been a new lease on life for sure.

No, it’s not a cure. It is likely my disorders will continue to progress and need additional treatment. It is possible that in the future I will again run into doctors who believe my condition is caused by psychological distress and thus not truly treatable with the very medications I am taking. It is scary, and sad to see others go through having a doctor decide to take away their medications because they are not working good enough therefore must not be helping. This is why I want to remember what I went through, and the relief I am experiencing now.

If this were my last post, I would want to say to myself, don’t give up. To always remember how close I came to miss this chance for some relief and get to spend more special moments with my children.

If this were my last post, I would want to say to anyone who has or is suffering with an illness or disorder and is feeling misunderstood and not getting the treatment you need, I understand what that is like. I finally found a doctor willing to help. I really hope you can too!! If you or someone you know are not a part of a support group, it might be worth checking around for one. There are so many support groups on Face Book and in other places.

If this were my last post, I would want to say thank you to everyone who has encouraged me along the way. There are so many of you and I am so very thankful.

Bated Breath

I have thoughts swirling through my head enough for two posts, one is very important addressing again a subject many people face, but this one will have to come first.

I went with my parents for the grocery run again. I waited two weeks from the last time I went, and still yet, I had a harder time physically, the spasms and exhaustion were trying to get the best of me from the moment I started…. Actually sooner than that, I had had a rough night before with more spasms than I’d had for a while making me think maybe I wouldn’t get to go shopping at all.

But, I made it, and ended up spending my afternoon with time outside with the children (albeit sitting and watching them play), playing games with them when we came inside, and then baking cookies with them before supper. I was quite surprised I managed to do all that after the morning I had had.

For all I can do, I admit I’m super discouraged I can’t do more. Those few glorious days that I felt so good a few weeks ago gave me a hope that was snatched away prematurely. I know I have a lot to be happy about, but I have no idea what to expect and what to hope for now.

The truth is, thoughts of the future have me waiting with bated breath… I want to believe that with increase of stamina there will be increase of things I can do and I will get some measure of a “normal” life back. But in reality there are more fears of what might happen trying to crowd my thinking. I’ve never been able to be an optimist, carefree and happy go lucky all will be well in the end type thinking. Reality hasn’t been so kind, and well, I prefer to prepare myself for reality… Besides look what my hopeful thinking got me in the past few weeks? More disappointment.

The truth is, things may not get better, and it is possible it could get worse, even much worse. The “what ifs” flowing through my mind seem to be endless. What if for some reason the baclofen quits being as effective as it is? What if this is just a placebo effect because I want so badly for it to work? If it’s not, what if somehow my body grows resistant to it’s effects. Or, what if the dystonia continues to progress as it has in the past few years, and in that way render the baclofen less effective… If so, how long will that take? My decline had been pretty rapid the last 6 months. The worse what if of all is, what if I do get worse, and this doctor ends up giving up on me and siding with all the others before him who claim this is a psychogenic problem? I certainly wouldn’t be the first person with dystonia to have to go through that. But that subject is for another post…

I am trying my best to enjoy each day as it comes, but I want to do better. I want to rein in all my thought, the “what ifs” the unattainable hopefuls, and find a healthier way to look toward the future. More importantly I want to keep my focus on the wonders of now, and what I can do with my dear sweet children. I may never be able to drive again (certainly some of my children have decided quite recently that that will never happen). I may never be able to do as much as I had hoped. But I can do more than I had been, and being stuck in bed trapped in my body in agonizing pain is almost rare at this present place in time, and that’s a huge deal. Instead of being frustrated when I am stuck in bed, or just plain feeling miserable with the spasms and fatigue and pain making normal every day tasks unpleasant, I need to again dwell on the positives.

I don’t know what the future is going to be like, it looks a little less hopeful than I had let myself dream. I have no clue what next month will bring, or even the rest of this week. For a logical thinker and a planner that is not so fun, but it gives me all the more reason to live in the moment more fully.

Expanding Horizons

I hardly know what to say. I’ve tried to write this blog post several times over the course of the past few days and always ended up scrapping it. What an incredibly crazy week I had last week! Both utterly exhilarating and amazing, as well as incredibly frustrating and disappointing all in one.

I had finally gotten to the point where I was feeling pretty awesome. The meds were working, the side effects had become bearable, and my injuries from my splat on the floor a few weeks ago were finally getting better. I had energy, my spasms and tics were in submission, I felt like I could (and should) do anything! And I did. I cheerfully did more housework, and gladly went shopping… I was beyond excited about getting to go along when my parents did the grocery run… I couldn’t remember the last time I had done that. I had been so sick for so long we all found it easier for them to get our groceries when they got theirs. The thought of getting to pick out my own produce was wonderful. Indeed that was the highlight of the whole trip.

I went for several days like that. I kept going, pushing myself to new limits because I could and because I want so desperately to build up my stamina and be able to do more “normal people” things. I even let myself get antsy about getting a driver’s license again, wishing I could start the process now, and not have to wait until I see my Neurologist again in 2 months. I reasoned with myself that waiting 2-3 months to be sure I was well enough to safely drive was reasonable. If I had a seizure disorder, wouldn’t I have to be seizure free for 6 months before being allowed to drive again? But it was difficult, patience isn’t my strong suit, and I could almost taste the freedom of being able to drive again.

Family members who know me best were getting concerned and kept warning me not to over do it. They know my patterns, doing too much when I feel good and then crashing afterwards. But I kept pushing. I want to build my stamina, I want to get my life back. There are so very many things I want to do and get done! My limits are no longer as constraining as they once were, I can stand up straighter, walk easier, and function better than I have in oh so long.

It was all too good to be true. My family was right, I should have listened to them. I should have paced my self more. I have no clue what that should have looked like as I don’t want to remain over cautious and never regain my stamina, but I should have been more careful. I crashed, and I crashed hard, and days later, I’ve still not fully recovered. I am mad at myself, and confused, and frustrated, and wonder, will I ever get to live a somewhat normal life again? I suppose I reached too far, expected too much, dreamed too big. Perhaps, I will never be well enough to safely drive. I keep apologizing for it, because it’s my fault I’m now so exhausted and in so much pain, and spasming so much.

My husband said something that really stuck with me. I was apologizing for doing too much too soon and he gently reminded me that everyone has their limits. It got me to thinking, no matter how well the meds work I still am human and will always have limits. Probably always more than a healthy person would, but still. I just need to figure out what those limits are. Thankfully this time around finding my new normal is with expanding horizons. And that is pretty awesome. I don’t know how many more days it will take for me to recover. I’m trying to be a bit more cautious and take things slower, and to accept I have more limitations than I would have hoped. I still have dystonia after all.

Wonderfully Amazing

Whew, am I ever tired, so ready to go to bed early, but it’s a good kind of tired. A satisfying exhaustion. Today was an awesome day. Simply amazing.

Before I tell about the most wonderful part of today, I should begin by saying I figured out why my dystonia was acting out… It all clicked in my befuddled mind almost as soon as I had published my last post. A glance at the calender would have put my mind at ease… That monthly hormonal cycle gets me every time… Just a few months ago this would have put me in bed in dystonic storm… The meds are working, keeping the dystonia to a minimum of uncomfortable pulling and twisting, enough to be a little frustrated, but not enough to land me in bed. What a relief to realize what was causing it, giving me hope that I can push through this and be better again soon.

With that in the back of my mind I’ve been more hopeful and taking things a day at a time, willing to push myself just a little more to see what I am capable of doing. Determined to enjoy what life has to offer in the moment.

Today was another trip to the chiropractor and a few errands, and nap time for me and the kids, and then, Dad came over for a few hours. The weather was absolutely beautiful, it would be a crime to stay indoors, and so, we all went outside. The kids rode their tricycles and scooters in the driveway while Dad and I started in on the rose bush and front flower bed.

It was incredible. I had laid my cane aside to work, because, um, well, that thing gets in the way and is a pain when trying to do stuff that needs both my hands for. We worked together pruning and pulling out dead stuff as the sun shown on our backs and a cool breeze blew past. It was such an awesome feeling to be able to be dealing with plants and soil again. Just the act of slipping on my old familiar gloves brought back a flood of memories of the hours and hours I used to spend out in the garden so many years ago, fueling dreams of what it might be like in the future…

And then, like an engine that has seen better days and starts sputtering and shuddering and balking at running like it should my body started doing the same, just like that. I started twitching and spasming, and suddenly felt oh so tired! I quit what I was doing and quickly made it safely to the chair and sat down and wrestled with my feelings. I didn’t know if I should be proud of what I had been able to accomplish or be discouraged that my body gave out on me so soon. My stamina is just so incredibly low. I sat there watching my children play and my Dad work and felt guilty, and wondered what the passers by though of the lazy woman sitting in a big comfy rolling desk chair.

I have to learn not to wonder or be bothered by what other people must think. I had every reason to be proud of what I had been able to do. And decided to dwell on the fact that this afternoon had been wonderfully amazing! I mean really! I got to actually do some yard work, and then, when I did have to take a break, I still managed to stay outside and enjoy the fresh air a bit longer before having to go in! As bad as I was a few months ago, this is incredible progress! I even managed to recharge enough to enjoy an evening of popcorn and a movie as a family tonight with my husband and dear little children. Amazing indeed.

Absolutely, wonderfully amazing.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

It’s hard not to be discouraged. I had plans, I had dreams, and this wasn’t part of it. The dystonia is trying to take over again, I feel it pulling trying to do it’s thing. I don’t know why. I didn’t miss a dose of meds. Maybe it’s because I’ve not gotten enough sleep? Or maybe I’m pushing myself too hard? Or maybe just maybe this stuffy nose isn’t just from dry air but perhaps I’m coming down with a virus?

It is taking a lot of mental strength not to dwell on it… The pulling twisting muscles do a good job of reminding me constantly that something is not right. But I don’t want to succumb to being disheartened and lose hope of getting stronger and getting to do more things and hopefully one day getting my driver’s license back… I have to still hope. Better yet, I have a lot to be thankful for in the here and now.

So, when my thoughts wander to the why’s and how’s I purposely steer it back to what a wonderful time I have been having making memories with my children here at home, working and playing together. I don’t know what the future holds (does anybody, really?) but I do have today, and I’m determined to make the most of it… Even if it’s more difficult than it was yesterday.

Speaking of, I’ve gotta go… My 6 year old just came with a request “Momma, can you help with my piano lessons?” that I can do, and happily!


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