Normally I am super excited about my birthday, but with Christmas being so laid back and mostly present free, I am not sure about my birthday this year. It just seems like the last few years have been very hard on all of us financially and the gift giving and receiving occasions I normally look forward to, I have been dreading.
I know it might seem selfish, but dammit, I want presents for my birthday!
Ok, immaturity over for now. I know there are others in the world with nothing and I am truly thankful for a roof over my head, a family that loves me and the opportunity to be back on insurance.
I guess when I look at all of the things in my life that are going right, it sort of makes all of the things that are "wrong" seem so small and meaningless.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Kso. Here's the bad news
I have SO much to write here. See that huge gap from the middle of July to now? Today is September 23, 2010 and I was supposed to have had a surgery yesterday. Instead I am going to have it tomorrow.
The gap in my writing, as you can plainly tell, (ok, maybe not) is due to my sister, soon to be divorced, and her two adorable children moving in. My sister is the love of my life, don't get me wrong. The 6 years she lived down in the OC were pretty miserable for me, but having her back in the house, and having the total of people here jump from 3 to 6 has brought a whole new set of unique and sometimes seemingly insurmountable problems.
If it hadn't been for my friend Jenny telling me about drinking milk from a wine glass (the story makes sense in context) I probably would have gone insane trying to keep up with the mess that 6 people create. My sister also decided to take 3 college courses this semester as well as work 8 hour days. Needless to say, my room, also used as my bead room and craft area, has now been turned into a babysitting emporium. I am having to get used to little hands on everything whether it's a collectible china cup or a teddy bear from my childhood. I have also learned how to sing along to The Backyardigans and Sponge Bob Square Pants. (Did you know he lives in a pineapple?)
Anyhow, on top of all of this, I have still been having the phantom pain in my right side and barring a laparoscopy, (which I am not sure about) everything in my reproductive system looks great. Or so I am told. Because of the chaos in the house, and the fact my family practitioner is unsure I should be making this choice at such a young age, (young?) I am not going to have a radical hysterectomy. I am instead going to have an endometrial ablation. Which, as far as I am concerned is fine and I hope it helps the pain.
In the end, if the pain continues, I am going to go see a gastrointerologist next. As much as I hate paying Dr roulette, pain exists in our bodies for a reason and I don't want to ignore something that could be getting worse. I honestly hope the pain leaves with this procedure however.
Well, that's hardly scratching the surface of how I am doing or how things are at my house, but I don't really know what else to say in this particular entry. My surgery is tomorrow afternoon at 5pm and I hope the pain and uh, other things are kept to a bare minimum. in the meantime, has any one seen the wine glasses? I need some milk!
The gap in my writing, as you can plainly tell, (ok, maybe not) is due to my sister, soon to be divorced, and her two adorable children moving in. My sister is the love of my life, don't get me wrong. The 6 years she lived down in the OC were pretty miserable for me, but having her back in the house, and having the total of people here jump from 3 to 6 has brought a whole new set of unique and sometimes seemingly insurmountable problems.
If it hadn't been for my friend Jenny telling me about drinking milk from a wine glass (the story makes sense in context) I probably would have gone insane trying to keep up with the mess that 6 people create. My sister also decided to take 3 college courses this semester as well as work 8 hour days. Needless to say, my room, also used as my bead room and craft area, has now been turned into a babysitting emporium. I am having to get used to little hands on everything whether it's a collectible china cup or a teddy bear from my childhood. I have also learned how to sing along to The Backyardigans and Sponge Bob Square Pants. (Did you know he lives in a pineapple?)
Anyhow, on top of all of this, I have still been having the phantom pain in my right side and barring a laparoscopy, (which I am not sure about) everything in my reproductive system looks great. Or so I am told. Because of the chaos in the house, and the fact my family practitioner is unsure I should be making this choice at such a young age, (young?) I am not going to have a radical hysterectomy. I am instead going to have an endometrial ablation. Which, as far as I am concerned is fine and I hope it helps the pain.
In the end, if the pain continues, I am going to go see a gastrointerologist next. As much as I hate paying Dr roulette, pain exists in our bodies for a reason and I don't want to ignore something that could be getting worse. I honestly hope the pain leaves with this procedure however.
Well, that's hardly scratching the surface of how I am doing or how things are at my house, but I don't really know what else to say in this particular entry. My surgery is tomorrow afternoon at 5pm and I hope the pain and uh, other things are kept to a bare minimum. in the meantime, has any one seen the wine glasses? I need some milk!
Monday, May 24, 2010
A secret loss
Watching the movie or listening to the soundtrack from "Sneakers" I often think of the loss of River Phoenix and what a waste it was that a young, handsome, talented man died due to drug use. And then I wonder about his brother Joaquin and feel a pain for him I can't ever and don't want to imagine for myself.
I wonder if there have been times where all he wanted to do was pick up the phone and excitedly babble about a movie he's been tapped for or an award he's won, or to just babble. Talk in the secret language of siblings. Share the jokes that will only ever be funny to himself and his brother.
My mother is a middle child, and up until a month before I was born had two sisters. Then, on her mother's birthday, a drunk driver swerved out of his lane and crashed into my aunt and uncle's car, instantly killing Marguerite Morrow-Pruit age 25 and later claiming the live of my newborn cousin Olivia, who would die 5 days later in a local childrens hospital. Then there were two. My mother, and her sister Carolyn Anne Morrow, eventually to be Ocheltree.
Carolyn was the baby of the family, and growing up, I was under the impression she sort of hated all of us. Was it because of her sister's death? Was she just not close enough to my mom to want to reach out and hold on harder? Even later in my life, as I thought we were all becoming closer, she seemed distant and cold. I was so hungry for praise however that I threw myself and my creative talents at her, hoping i could impress her, and sometimes hoping that she and my mother would be as close and my sister and myself.
Sometimes parents only remember how much siblings fight, and it's true, we do. In fact, we're the MOST likely to tear each others hair and throw punches or slaps in the face, but by God, if someone else makes my sister cry, I will hunt them to the ends of the earth. And I think most siblings feel that way.
So I wonder. What broke in my aunt? I see my mom get sad sometimes, looking at pictures of her and her sisters as children. Dressed alike for church, or excitedly standing on the steps of a monument in Mexico. She vividly recalls happy times spent as a child, memories backed up by her friends and family. But all my aunt sees is some twisted wreckage and heaps of ash. Why?
I know my mom would do whatever it took to fix her relationship and to reach out and pull her sister from any danger she could, but Carolyn seems content to throw away her life, her memories, her family and her sister for something, something I cannot identify.
One sister dead, another emotionally dead. It's not fair, it makes me so sad, and drives me crazy.
I can't wait until my sister moves back to town, even if we end up driving each nuts. Because, she is my sister. And I love her.
I wonder if there have been times where all he wanted to do was pick up the phone and excitedly babble about a movie he's been tapped for or an award he's won, or to just babble. Talk in the secret language of siblings. Share the jokes that will only ever be funny to himself and his brother.
My mother is a middle child, and up until a month before I was born had two sisters. Then, on her mother's birthday, a drunk driver swerved out of his lane and crashed into my aunt and uncle's car, instantly killing Marguerite Morrow-Pruit age 25 and later claiming the live of my newborn cousin Olivia, who would die 5 days later in a local childrens hospital. Then there were two. My mother, and her sister Carolyn Anne Morrow, eventually to be Ocheltree.
Carolyn was the baby of the family, and growing up, I was under the impression she sort of hated all of us. Was it because of her sister's death? Was she just not close enough to my mom to want to reach out and hold on harder? Even later in my life, as I thought we were all becoming closer, she seemed distant and cold. I was so hungry for praise however that I threw myself and my creative talents at her, hoping i could impress her, and sometimes hoping that she and my mother would be as close and my sister and myself.
Sometimes parents only remember how much siblings fight, and it's true, we do. In fact, we're the MOST likely to tear each others hair and throw punches or slaps in the face, but by God, if someone else makes my sister cry, I will hunt them to the ends of the earth. And I think most siblings feel that way.
So I wonder. What broke in my aunt? I see my mom get sad sometimes, looking at pictures of her and her sisters as children. Dressed alike for church, or excitedly standing on the steps of a monument in Mexico. She vividly recalls happy times spent as a child, memories backed up by her friends and family. But all my aunt sees is some twisted wreckage and heaps of ash. Why?
I know my mom would do whatever it took to fix her relationship and to reach out and pull her sister from any danger she could, but Carolyn seems content to throw away her life, her memories, her family and her sister for something, something I cannot identify.
One sister dead, another emotionally dead. It's not fair, it makes me so sad, and drives me crazy.
I can't wait until my sister moves back to town, even if we end up driving each nuts. Because, she is my sister. And I love her.
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