Update on My Son

I just figured I'd post a quick update on my son's post surgical status. Since it's been almost a month already, and I haven't been making my phone calls regularly, I just wanted to answer your emails regarding his recovery.


We brought him home on Saturday night 11/24/07. He spiked another temp while he was in the hospital, but we took him home anyway. During this time he's been on a LOT of pain medicine. He is taking Percocet, Ultram, and Skelaxin. Keep in mind, he weighs 112 pounds soaking wet with all of his clothes on. He's tall and thin, like my husband. I figured he'd just sleep in some kind of hibernative state for a few weeks with all of that stuff going through him. Wrong!

Amazing, the metabolism of a teenager. What is also amazing is the amount of pain back surgery entails. I can only imagine what Pam is going through right now. If you are reading, Pam, my heart and prayers go out to you. Monday, 12/17 was his first day without pain meds. He's started with his tutor two hours a day and seems to be on the mend.

Update: 2/4/08 - He's back in school, limited gym. Doing great! Thanks for keeping us in your prayers the past few months.

A Human Being, Or a Human Doing? Or Both?

This is going to be a strange post. Sometimes I think all of them are. I don't even know if anyone can relate to anything I write.



A couple of weeks ago, I happened upon a very good quote from some recovery material. It said to "be a human being rather than a human doing." I liked it. It was catchy and very easy for my simple mind to remember. So I began the process of thinking about this and trying to live this new found wisdom.



Unfortunately, it took me down a lazy river named "sloth." It wasn't the quote itself, but rather my interpretation of it. I guess I extended the metaphor a little too far and took it to mean "a human breathing," and decided to do just that, merely exist. As a result, nothing got done that week. Now I am also guilty of being a "human doing" when things get me upset, but that is another post entirely.



After several days of this slacking, I became very irritable. Things weren't magically getting cleaned or paid the way I expected they would if I just existed, and stopped all that "doing" nonsense. I found myself secretly thanking God for things like paper plates when saying Grace.



This wasn't working for me at all. I couldn't even remember if my daughter had gone potty that morning, but all sorts of crazy clutter from my past was right there in the front of my mind. Like that song, "Up, Up With People," from something like 1976. Every word, too, not just one verse. And how I got in trouble in third grade for the escape of the class gerbils, even though David R left the lid off of the cage. I was in this trance from my past. Not a good place for me, even though the song was okay, and brought up good memories of class snack and those half pint chocolate milks that cost only two cents.



Fast forward to my hair appointment (which lasted four hours). I started and finished Dr. Weiss' book, Get A Grip. I'm happy to say I have. I don't know what I was thinking, but reading the book snapped me out of it. I know you are all wondering what the heck my hair looked like for someone to fuss with it for four hours. Trust me when I say, it was worth every minute.



I have to remember to balance what I want to do, and what I need to do. This is definitely a place where I struggle. It goes like this...I do things all week long for the family, friends, etc., forget all about the self care, get resentful, go on strike and do nothing, throw a pity party and overindulge in food.

I think it all started with my son's recovery from surgery (no blame, just info). Although it has been a busy time, I haven't made much time to do anything to take care of myself. It's been pretty much all about him for the past three weeks, understandably so. But I made no moves to ask for help from family members that could have easily given me an hour or two. Ah, foolish pride!



I finally think I get it!!! The self care is so important!!! Repeat after me...I will not forget my self care. I will not forget my self care. I will not forget my self care....

Caution: Watch Where You Step

Oooohhhh...I am putting it all together in my mind right now and I have no idea where the recovery stuff I learned is in all of this nonsense. Where did it go? Which exercise was it again? I do not remember. Where to begin?

I'll start somewhere in between and let you try to sort it out. If you don't understand, don't worry, neither do I. I'm just a ranting and raving fool at the moment.

As some of you may know, my husband has been actively seeking different employment, partly because he detests his boss, partly because he feels that his workplace is full of bad choices he made, not the least of which was another woman he had an inappropriate relationship with. He has worked there for sixteen years, but I am in full support of him finding something else. I really just want him to be happy.

Today, he got a very good offer from a much smaller company that is just starting to expand and needs a few more people to pick up some of the increased volume. It sounds amazing and he has done nothing but *gush* about it since he interviewed there. It is really wonderful news!

On the way home, he was talking to me from his cell phone and I mentioned that I was getting a little nervous because they will probably be giving him a going away luncheon that she will more than likely be attending. So the conversation went...and went...and we began talking about the annual office Christmas party. And somehow the subject came up about a gift that she had given him one Christmas. This was not a gift that was a part of the office's Secret Santa exchange. It was from her to him. It was just some picture frame.

The fireworks began when he told me that the gift was not a joint gift, which he originally said it was, from her and another member of her department for working on some project for their department, but a Christmas gift from her alone. Which started my Dr. Jeckyll and Mrs. Hyde routine going. I asked him if he remembered telling me that this was a joint gift from her and a coworker as a token of appreciation for working on some extended project. He didn't remember. So I started wondering why she would buy him a gift, considering she wasn't even involved in the Secret Santa, but I guess I already knew the answer to that one. So I moved on to the next logical question, but the one that was going to hurt me most, "What did *you* buy *her*?" Of course, there were more exclamation points and question marks in there, but I'm trying to be nice here. And all the while, I'm imagining all of the personal gifts he could have given her, the lingerie, the jewelry, the perfume. The answer to the $20,000 question..."I don't remember."

Following about fifteen minutes of interrogation that would make Olivia Benson and Elliot Staebler proud, I finally gave up. Believe it or not, that was pretty tame compared to how I used to be. Nine months ago, it would have lasted until the wee hours of the morning when he would have confessed to the Manson killings if I would just let him go to sleep. Progress??? No.

I am so confused as to *why* I am jumping back into the pit. I was completely unsatisfied with the "I don't know" answer. I wanted the details, I wanted to be hurt, I felt the old adrenaline rush coming over me again. I don't know why I would choose to cloud such a great moment in our lives with this same tired crap. And that's what it is, just a big fat steaming pile of crap. And right now that is what I feel like too.

I wish I could wrap this one up with a big shiny ribbon, but I'm afraid it requires yesterday's newspaper or a roll of paper towels. Sorry.

Weekly Encouragement

Hey Ladies,

If you haven't guessed it by now, I am missing everyone terribly. Thanks for all of your calls and emails and for being there for me when I call and email. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I'll probably be MIA for a while, on the blog anyway. Today at 2:15 pm my friend and her husband are dropping their four children off at our house for the weekend. They are going to a Marriage Encounter(ish) weekend. I am not sure exactly which one it is, but it is something like Marriage Encounter. It should be fun, though, because all of the kids get along really well. The person I worry about is my husband who will be alone with them from 7:00 pm on Saturday until 8:00 am on Sunday while I am at work. Pete versus seven children. It'll be like some strange episode of "Survivor." One man, seven children, half a gallon of milk, a golden retriever (that is in heat right now), two cats, and one roll of toilet paper. Who will survive??? My money is on the cats.

Then on Tuesday, my middle son is having his scoliosis surgery. Please pray for him if you think about it. And for his surgeon too. It is a LONG procedure, and I am sure I will be flipping out that day. He will be in the hospital through Saturday, so he won't be with the rest of the family for Thanksgiving. But at least he will be up and functional for Christmas. I will be spending the nights and days at the hospital with him, so if anyone wants to reach me, I'll have my cell phone with me.

Thursday

It was another crazy busy day yesterday (Wednesday). I had to be up at 5:30 to get my son to a 9:15 doctor appointment in Westchester before his upcoming surgery. It started with him not waking up to his alarm and went downhill from there. I lost the directions to the place, the internet was down so I couldn't get the directions from Google Maps, no gas in the car. Okay, it wasn't the worst, just pain in the buttsky stuff. I got there in one piece, it just took some creativity to do it.


The day dragged on with more preadmission testing in areas of the state that I am not entirely familiar with, so I was out of my comfort zone.


Afterwards, I went to pick up two of my other children at my mother's house. We had lunch, which was nice. My head was pounding from the stress of driving. During lunch she wanted to remind me what an incredibly smart husband I have. He was able to take a picture with her camera phone. Well whoop-de-doo, mom, so can my four year old! I guess that makes her Marie Curie!?



Before I left, she tried to send cookies home with me. I politely declined and told her I don't want junk food in the house or else I will wind up eating it. So she said, "You are having seven kids in your house this weekend. I figured maybe they could have them." I told her, "That's good mom. I'll just give them all straight sugar. All seven of them. Better yet, I'll go shopping, and you can feed them cookies and try to watch them. And I'll take Pete with me." "Oh no you won't!" she shot back. Okay, whatever, you want my husband, mom. Best of luck.

This creeps me out so much. It's like living a bad episode of Jerry Springer. "Mah momma stole mah man." Anyway...


On my husband's way home from work, he told me he was going to meet with "Barrie" that night at our house. This was the woman he failed the polygraph test over with the question, "Are you flirting with other women?" He told me she stands very close and talks for a long time and looks directly at him when she talks, never breaks her gaze. He said he wasn't flirting, but he thought she was, and as a result the question made him very upset. Mmmm. Anyway, she got here and our internet was still down, so they had to go to her office to do the work. Grrr....

So last night I was grumpy and schlumpy and frumpy (my three dwarfs of coaddiction). And I started thinking about something my private duty patient said to me. Her pajamas were covered in little lint balls, and she said , "It's amazing how one errant piece of Kleenex can cause so much damage. It can really ruin your day if you let it." And I wished I had paid more attention to the last four words of that sentence..."if you let it." As I thought about it, I realized I had let this stuff ruin my day. I gave control of my feelings to something outside of myself, and now I don't get those twelve hours of my life back. I wasted them on indulging myself in self pity and anger.

I know I am being brutally honest, and that it may turn some of you away from reading. These are my struggles, not my strengths. These are the areas I fall short, not where I measure up. I need to get them out. If I write it out, it's no longer inside of me. It doesn't belong here in my heart, love belongs there.

I've decided to post my check ins seperate from this page. I'll set that up later. This is quickly becoming a dumping ground for my hostility. I don't want it to trigger people.

As long as I am reacting to this stuff, it still controls me. The best I can do is to look at it, figure out why it made me so mad, and then release it. Release it to God, who can work this out much better than I can and who can lead me through this desert called anger.

Checking In

Hey Everyone,

It's D----. I am the partner of a sex addict and sexual anorexic. I am healing from codependency, co-sex addiction, and overeating (newly admitted).

I feel better today than yesterday about my recovery. I was fortunate enough to be uplifted by some Drive Time Devotions CDs this morning.

This week for recovery work I completed, well I'm not sure if this was last week's or this week's, Exercise 86 and I began work on Exercise 87 and you can leave me feedback if you want on those if you click on the link in the upper right corner of the page.

Acting out...no. Acting in...definitely. Let's see...eating, check. Negative self talk, mmm-hmm. Fantasy, yes. Avoidance, yup. Computer, way too much. Consequences...NONE. Because my consequences must be self imposed for lack of group participation, I find that I am just not holding myself accountable. And I'm also having an enormous pity party.

Yesterday I felt competitive and then I felt defeated. I was at my mom's and she made a reference about liking my husband again. Then later, a woman that my husband thought was flirting with him came over to have some computer work done by him. The first time I felt competitive and defeated was any time I got into a melee with my sister. She was older and stronger and usually won whatever the "prize" was that day.

My five commandments are all intact. Well, maybe I haven't been calling so much this week. But everything else is good.

My spiritual self care this week was going to Mass.

My self care this week was buying two new pairs of pants that have no hint of an elastic waistband.

What I like about myself today is I got all of my son's pre-op testing completed.

Saturday Snow

I had no idea when I started Exercise 86 how sad it would make me. I thought I would be angry, but it didn't turn out like that. I spent unusual amounts of time crying, which is strange for me. I felt like I was in mourning.

But at least finishing the exercise gave me some really good insight as to why I was eating the volume of food that I was. Yesterday for breakfast I consumed half of a coconut custard pie. The only reason I ate half was because I ate the other half the day before.

The exercise was also good because it let me put all the little pieces, or memories, together to create a larger picture, like a puzzle. So I am finally starting to understand why I had been defending my dad and his drinking, why I don't take rejection very well, and why I have been eating like a lumberjack this week.

On a lighter note, it is snowing! It started last night, only about an inch overnight, and it continues this morning. My daughter is running around in her Winnie the Pooh snow boots and a nightgown begging me to go on the swingset with her. What is it about snow that makes little kids (and big kids and some adults) so hyperactive? I think there must be some additive or preservative in it. And why am I always so *amazed* that it snowed? It's not like it's June and we are having a blizzard. It's November, we live in the northeast, I should come to expect this kind of thing after 38 years of weather patterns, right? But no. Here I am, 11 o'clock last night, waking up my poor husband, shrieking, "It's snowing! It's snowing!" And then, there he is, running to the window to get a look, and he starts doing it too, "It's snowing! It's snowing!" Grown adults, behaving like children.

So, on that thought, I am leaving now to put on my snow boots, and go get a cold, soggy behind on the swing set. Have a great weekend, everyone!