"Quotes are nothing but inspiration for the uninspired." - Richard Kemph
Now, obviously I take a fair measure of exception to the quote above. Everything I write begins with a quote from someone else. It is often for inspiration. It's also because I love the words of others. Throughout history, there have been some phenomenal thinkers and writers and I am always willing to allow their words to summarize the emotion I am attempting to convey.
Am I uninspired? Often.
Inspired? Occasionally. Now is one of those times. I'm on fire.
Here's what's funny about that:
I have been trying to tell a very specific story for a very long time. I've toyed with it for months, if not years, trying to find the voice. Then recently, I discovered another story that I would like to tell. Again, I couldn't find and angle.
Shiraz called me and said, "Everything you've been writing lately is crap." And yeah, she was just that blunt. I've actually edited out some of the mean shit she said. (And yes, honey, I know you're reading this and you were seriously a bitch - for shizzle.) But, I needed to hear what she had to say. So, I write a ton the night she says it, but it's all still crap.
The next morning I wake up so inspired that I can barely speak. I don't want to speak to anyone because I'm scared to drown out the words that are pouring out of me - but I'm hopeless and helpless - I can't write longhand anymore - I just can't keep up, and I need privacy and music and my system yo (I'm so street) - but I'm at work, so I'm scratching random thoughts on a piece of paper but it's a challenge to keep up with the thoughts, then try to transcribe them in my wretched handwriting. (I double-dog dare you to come up with a bigger run-on sentence).
Later in the day, Shiraz says to me, "I want more Huda. Go back to that story, I want to know how she got there." And I'm PISSED at her. I hate her at that moment. "I can't tell you what to paint, Shiraz, so don't tell me what to write."
A day passes and I write more shit that means exactly nothing - but at least I'm saving it all -and then...the light comes on - and it is Huda's story. All of it. Shiraz was right. Bitch.
It's coming and I already love the story. I wrote obsessively for four hours tonight. I'm spent, but I want to keep writing more. I can't. I think this is it. It's the epitome of it all.
It will be called "Legacy", and I hope that you'll love it as much as I do. When we wake in the morning, we are who we choose to be on that given day, impacted tremendously by genetics, desires and reality. Our legacies are largely given to us.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Roots
"But it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then." - Lewis Carroll, from Alice in Wonderland
I chose the above quote with more intent than usual. I've jumped through the Looking Glass, and I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but I saw the results countless times this weekend.
Saturday morning, my children and I went out for breakfast, and had a pleasant time. Afterwards, we drove to the home site to see the progress (there is none). Finally, we headed to my parents house to spend the night. As soon as we walked into the door, I realized that I was exhausted and asked my parents if they'd watch the children while I took a nap. They were happy to do so.
My father and son took my car and got it inspected, oiled, gassed and cleaned. My stepmother and my daughter read books. I fell asleep instantly (which I never do) and had amazing dreams (which I never recall).
I dreamed of a rapidly flowing river, and a lovely home on the other side. There was a person with his arms outstretched telling me that it was safe to cross, that he'd help me. I took his hand and waded across the rushing water. I slipped and fell in and the water was warm and I began laughing. I could feel the sun on my face and looked up at the sky and said, "Thank you." I splashed and played in the water for a bit and realized that it only looked rough but that in reality it was quite calm. I watched a fish swim around my ankles. I took my time crossing to the other side, and the grass was soft and cool under my feet. I looked up at the house and smiled again.
My child woke me for dinner, so we had a nice time - my aunt and uncle joined us and it was fun and friendly and easy. After the children were in bed, I had a wonderful conversation with my parents. I'll keep the specifics private, but speaking to them openly and honestly proved something to me - the more open I am, the more honest I am, the more people respond to me. I can trust them, I can rely on them - and I'm so ready to allow myself to lean on the people around me. It's not weakness, it's security.
Today, I came home and began to clean my filthy apartment. It was a task undertaken grudgingly, but I know why. I'm not comfortable here anymore, I've grown, and I've outgrown the tiny space that was once so comforting. I'm ready to spread out, to root - I'm ready to be home.
I chose the above quote with more intent than usual. I've jumped through the Looking Glass, and I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but I saw the results countless times this weekend.
Saturday morning, my children and I went out for breakfast, and had a pleasant time. Afterwards, we drove to the home site to see the progress (there is none). Finally, we headed to my parents house to spend the night. As soon as we walked into the door, I realized that I was exhausted and asked my parents if they'd watch the children while I took a nap. They were happy to do so.
My father and son took my car and got it inspected, oiled, gassed and cleaned. My stepmother and my daughter read books. I fell asleep instantly (which I never do) and had amazing dreams (which I never recall).
I dreamed of a rapidly flowing river, and a lovely home on the other side. There was a person with his arms outstretched telling me that it was safe to cross, that he'd help me. I took his hand and waded across the rushing water. I slipped and fell in and the water was warm and I began laughing. I could feel the sun on my face and looked up at the sky and said, "Thank you." I splashed and played in the water for a bit and realized that it only looked rough but that in reality it was quite calm. I watched a fish swim around my ankles. I took my time crossing to the other side, and the grass was soft and cool under my feet. I looked up at the house and smiled again.
My child woke me for dinner, so we had a nice time - my aunt and uncle joined us and it was fun and friendly and easy. After the children were in bed, I had a wonderful conversation with my parents. I'll keep the specifics private, but speaking to them openly and honestly proved something to me - the more open I am, the more honest I am, the more people respond to me. I can trust them, I can rely on them - and I'm so ready to allow myself to lean on the people around me. It's not weakness, it's security.
Today, I came home and began to clean my filthy apartment. It was a task undertaken grudgingly, but I know why. I'm not comfortable here anymore, I've grown, and I've outgrown the tiny space that was once so comforting. I'm ready to spread out, to root - I'm ready to be home.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Celebrate
"Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks."
- Samuel Johnson
My birthday was so wonderful. I woke with my children in my bed, to great big birthday hugs and kisses. It was adorable. My son asked how old I was, and when I answered, "36." he said, "Wow, Mom. You're young." So my day certainly started off on the right foot.
As I was heading out the door to work, text messages started coming in - many from wonderful friends and it was such a cheery way to start the day. At work (I had a crazy busy day - 7 cases before noon for a grand total of 9) everyone was warm and gracious and it just made me feel so special. One of the docs took me to breakfast, and there were loads of hugs and an equal measure of offers to administer the birthday spankings. One of the new docs came up and gave me a huge hug and said, "You're so special, I hope your day matches up to your grace." That's one of the loveliest things anyone has every said to me.
As the day wore on, I heard from so many wonderful friends - many of whom I haven't seen in literally decades. I felt the love, and I loved it. I've always sort of used my birthday as the true barometer for the year ahead (as opposed to New Year's Eve). I figure that the people that are important to me, that recognize my birthday at the beginning of the year, are typically the ones that I'll still hold close to my heart at the end of the year - it just tends to work that way. I'm so fucking obnoxious about my birthday, it's certainly not like anyone has the opportunity to forget - so those that fail to acknowledge the day truly don't care about me.
After work, I gathered the children and we met my parents for a really nice birthday dinner. My kids and I all crawled into my bed, a nice, snuggly end to a day full of warm fuzzies.
The actual party will be the weekend of the 17th! I'm so looking forward to that little fiesta! Until then, thank you all - I definitely felt the love, and I am so lucky to have so many genuinely wonderful people in my life.
- Samuel Johnson
My birthday was so wonderful. I woke with my children in my bed, to great big birthday hugs and kisses. It was adorable. My son asked how old I was, and when I answered, "36." he said, "Wow, Mom. You're young." So my day certainly started off on the right foot.
As I was heading out the door to work, text messages started coming in - many from wonderful friends and it was such a cheery way to start the day. At work (I had a crazy busy day - 7 cases before noon for a grand total of 9) everyone was warm and gracious and it just made me feel so special. One of the docs took me to breakfast, and there were loads of hugs and an equal measure of offers to administer the birthday spankings. One of the new docs came up and gave me a huge hug and said, "You're so special, I hope your day matches up to your grace." That's one of the loveliest things anyone has every said to me.
As the day wore on, I heard from so many wonderful friends - many of whom I haven't seen in literally decades. I felt the love, and I loved it. I've always sort of used my birthday as the true barometer for the year ahead (as opposed to New Year's Eve). I figure that the people that are important to me, that recognize my birthday at the beginning of the year, are typically the ones that I'll still hold close to my heart at the end of the year - it just tends to work that way. I'm so fucking obnoxious about my birthday, it's certainly not like anyone has the opportunity to forget - so those that fail to acknowledge the day truly don't care about me.
After work, I gathered the children and we met my parents for a really nice birthday dinner. My kids and I all crawled into my bed, a nice, snuggly end to a day full of warm fuzzies.
The actual party will be the weekend of the 17th! I'm so looking forward to that little fiesta! Until then, thank you all - I definitely felt the love, and I am so lucky to have so many genuinely wonderful people in my life.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Identity
"And the day came where the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." - Anais Nin
I find myself increasingly disillusioned by people. Ironically, I am so reserved with people that only a few are allowed the oppportunity to disillusion me, so when they do, it hurts that much more. I find it somewhat baffling and somewhat amusing that someone can say one thing, to vehemently believe that they are who they presume they are, but when push comes to shove, they waiver - without ever realizing it.
It comes down to a question of integrity - and a matter of identity. What or whom do you identify with? How will you define yourself today? Tomorrow? On your death bed?
If I sound angry, I am. Because it's fear that stops us. A fear of the unknown, a fear of failure, a fear of change and a fear of taking chances and making choices. It's ridiculous and futile and such a crying shame. Imagine how paralyzing it is - to have a world of opportunity, to say you want one thing, to find that thing (or at least the potential for that thing) and to allow all the big scary unknowns to prevent you from even exploring the potential. Can you even imagine something more absurd? Well, here's the reality - we all do it - every single day. Of course, they aren't all life-changing choices, they aren't all necessarily permanent and they aren't all irrevokable - and yet - we refuse to explore the options and settle into the safety of the known while still seeking that unknown greatness that must just be right around the corner. Fuck. It's so stupid.
I suppose it frustrates me so much because I really do know myself quite well. For all the soul-searching and ranting here, the truth is that I do know myself quite well, warts and all. Simply, I identify myself as a mother, a daughter, a friend, a nurse. Those are all parts of me, but there's more.
I'm a perfectionist that drives myself silently so hard that I end up in the ER of my own hospital in SVT. I'm a romantic that is petrified to wear her heart on her sleeve. I'm opinionated and can be very judgmental. I'm a people-pleaser that will almost always sacrifice my own happiness for someone elses, without even realizing that I have a choice. I'm logical and approach problems systematically. I'm a fast thinker and work really well in situations where I have to think on my feet. I'm a passionate, nurturing woman missing a man to nurture and love, but completely unwilling to compromise my expectations and desires to have *someone* in my life. I believe that integrity is king and truth is beauty. I like making other people feel good about themselves and boosting their self-esteem. I love laughing so hard that your stomach hurts the next day more than almost anything. I have great big major trust issues due to the way in which my husband betrayed me, and I struggle with committment issues for the same reason. I can be a serious bitch. I hate stupid people and like to make fun of some of them, especially to their face. I'm tenacious to a fault. I'm a very good mother, although an unconventional one. I genuinely believe that two of the best gifts I can give my children are good manners and an independent spirit.
There you have it - there's me - warts and all. It's time. I'm days away from my 36th birthday and I've arrived at this conclusion at long last: the risk of attempting to protect myself, to project an image of self - is too great. Love me, accept all of me - the good and the bad - because you're going to see it all now. Moreover, I'm letting go of the fear - taking chances, wearing my heart on my sleeve and living my life with royal integrity.
Fear change, fear exploration, fear taking a chance and you risk missing that diamond you seek. It isn't effortless - it may require a bit of time and faith initially, and later a bit of polishing and chipping away. Treasures are never found without taking chances, but the risks are what make it that much more precious and valuable.
I find myself increasingly disillusioned by people. Ironically, I am so reserved with people that only a few are allowed the oppportunity to disillusion me, so when they do, it hurts that much more. I find it somewhat baffling and somewhat amusing that someone can say one thing, to vehemently believe that they are who they presume they are, but when push comes to shove, they waiver - without ever realizing it.
It comes down to a question of integrity - and a matter of identity. What or whom do you identify with? How will you define yourself today? Tomorrow? On your death bed?
If I sound angry, I am. Because it's fear that stops us. A fear of the unknown, a fear of failure, a fear of change and a fear of taking chances and making choices. It's ridiculous and futile and such a crying shame. Imagine how paralyzing it is - to have a world of opportunity, to say you want one thing, to find that thing (or at least the potential for that thing) and to allow all the big scary unknowns to prevent you from even exploring the potential. Can you even imagine something more absurd? Well, here's the reality - we all do it - every single day. Of course, they aren't all life-changing choices, they aren't all necessarily permanent and they aren't all irrevokable - and yet - we refuse to explore the options and settle into the safety of the known while still seeking that unknown greatness that must just be right around the corner. Fuck. It's so stupid.
I suppose it frustrates me so much because I really do know myself quite well. For all the soul-searching and ranting here, the truth is that I do know myself quite well, warts and all. Simply, I identify myself as a mother, a daughter, a friend, a nurse. Those are all parts of me, but there's more.
I'm a perfectionist that drives myself silently so hard that I end up in the ER of my own hospital in SVT. I'm a romantic that is petrified to wear her heart on her sleeve. I'm opinionated and can be very judgmental. I'm a people-pleaser that will almost always sacrifice my own happiness for someone elses, without even realizing that I have a choice. I'm logical and approach problems systematically. I'm a fast thinker and work really well in situations where I have to think on my feet. I'm a passionate, nurturing woman missing a man to nurture and love, but completely unwilling to compromise my expectations and desires to have *someone* in my life. I believe that integrity is king and truth is beauty. I like making other people feel good about themselves and boosting their self-esteem. I love laughing so hard that your stomach hurts the next day more than almost anything. I have great big major trust issues due to the way in which my husband betrayed me, and I struggle with committment issues for the same reason. I can be a serious bitch. I hate stupid people and like to make fun of some of them, especially to their face. I'm tenacious to a fault. I'm a very good mother, although an unconventional one. I genuinely believe that two of the best gifts I can give my children are good manners and an independent spirit.
There you have it - there's me - warts and all. It's time. I'm days away from my 36th birthday and I've arrived at this conclusion at long last: the risk of attempting to protect myself, to project an image of self - is too great. Love me, accept all of me - the good and the bad - because you're going to see it all now. Moreover, I'm letting go of the fear - taking chances, wearing my heart on my sleeve and living my life with royal integrity.
Fear change, fear exploration, fear taking a chance and you risk missing that diamond you seek. It isn't effortless - it may require a bit of time and faith initially, and later a bit of polishing and chipping away. Treasures are never found without taking chances, but the risks are what make it that much more precious and valuable.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Cardioversion
"At the bottom no one in life can help anyone else in life; this one experiences over and over in every conflict and every perplexity: that one is alone. That isn't as bad as it may first appear; and again it is the best thing in life that each should have everything in himself; his fate, his future, his whole expanse and world." - Rainer Maria Rilke
I'm so tired. I'm so tired of struggling, I'm so tired of fighting, I'm so tired of doing it all alone. I'm so very tired.
The new year is not off to the stellar start that I imagine, not off to the triumphant beginning I felt on New Year's Eve.
I spent NYE sick - but went out anyway because I couldn't bear the thought of being home alone on that holiday, as I was last year due to being on call. I had just started some hardcore antibiotics to beat the infection and took a bunch of cold medicine just to make it tolerable. I ended up having a really good time, and a couple of drinks.
The next morning, I felt awful, but my head was swimming more from the cold than from a hangover. I was on call that evening and got called in about 6PM for an emergency open heart. The case went well and I left the hospital at 12:30. I got home, took a shower and curled into bed - shivering. I thought that was strange, but not much else, it was a cool-ish evening. About 30 minutes later, the arrythmia started. I concluded that it was minor and the result of not eating well, not sleeping, not exercising, being sick, taking cold medicine and being stressed.
I layed in bed and tried desperately to sleep but every time I moved, the arrythmia would recur. Finally, I checked my pulse and realized that I was dropping beats at a pretty steady clip. Again, I tried to logic my way through it, but it continued to worsen. Unable to sleep, and still on call, I showered again and got dressed. I figured I'd just go sit up at the hospital - better to be there rather than home alone. After I was dressed, it was about 3AM, I got out my stethoscope and listened to my heart. The rate was very rapid, too rapid to count, and I was dropping every third beat. That scared me. Once at the hospital, the arrythmia was so bad that I couldn't catch my breath and I was definitely compounding the situation with my own anxiety.
I walked over to the ER and said to the triage nurse that I was having a "pretty decent arrythmia" she took my vitals and said that the rate was a nice, normal 80. I told her that it was not, but that the machine couldn't count it due to the dropped beats. She listened for all of 3 seconds with her stethocope, pushed me onto a stretcher and did an EKG. Sinus Tachycardia - rate of 164. That's actually good news. They draw blood, give me a couple liters of fluid and 'lytes. Doc says that my myocardium is "very volatile" - probably due to decongestants and stress and wants to sedate me to see if that alone will allow a normal rhythm to take over. Luckily for me, it works. Embarassing as shit, but it works. After I'm sedated, he asks me what the source of my stress is. I just laugh at him. But, I dream about it.
In 2008 - I ended a relationship with a man that I cared deeply about, but he still won't go away, had the first incidence of cardiac arrythmias that required extensive testing to be determine that stress was the source, suffered through my daughter's very serious accident that was terrifying and largely my fault, dealt with the ex, finalized a divorce that caused a signifcant amount of grief and more financial stress than I've ever cared to admit, trained for and completed three triathlons, became very ill with my bleeding disorder that required a fairly emergent procedure, was forced to face some truths about life that I would rather have ignored, dealt with chicken pox, head lice, dance classes, drum lessons, crazy parents (not my own), crazy parents (my own), and subsequently bought a house that I'm happy about and petrified of. Through it all, there were significant work-related stressors, significant child-related stressors, and my desperate attempts to maintain a life worth living for my children and for myself. Moreover, my mother was in France, my father in Thailand. Stress? Nah, not much.
I had to call and wake up my parents to come get me at the hospital because I couldn't drive home so sedated. They were great about it, but it was so embarassing. They asked me why I was so stressed and I just laughed. I had to fight with them to let me stay at my own apartment, I just wanted solitude. I got home around 8AM and slept until 3PM. I took a sleeping pill when I woke and slept until 10PM. I took another sleeping pill and slept until 10AM. I woke today in pain - my entire body aches. I'm not sure that it's not from laying down for so long, but I'm also not sure that all of this wasn't caused from the Levaquin - arrythmias and all. I quit taking it, it wasn't helping with the other symptoms anyway. I've only had a few minor palpitations today.
Walker called while I was in the hospital and I told him what was going on. After I got home, he came by to visit which I found incredibly touching. I scarcely remember him being here, I was so out of it, but I do recall him saying, "God, you're so tired. I'm going to get out of here so you can rest." I wish I would have had the courage to ask him to hold me, to protect me from the invisible stress monster.
I thought I had made so many changes and so many strides. Now, I realize that so much more has to change in my life.
I don't want to whine and I know that my stressors aren't nearly as bad as some people have it. I don't have to worry about feeding my children. I don't have to deal with a chronic health issue. It's not THAT bad. But you know, I'd be lying if I said I weren't ready for the happy surprise on my doorstep, but one without a cherry bomb tied to it, OK?
I'm so tired. I'm so tired of struggling, I'm so tired of fighting, I'm so tired of doing it all alone. I'm so very tired.
The new year is not off to the stellar start that I imagine, not off to the triumphant beginning I felt on New Year's Eve.
I spent NYE sick - but went out anyway because I couldn't bear the thought of being home alone on that holiday, as I was last year due to being on call. I had just started some hardcore antibiotics to beat the infection and took a bunch of cold medicine just to make it tolerable. I ended up having a really good time, and a couple of drinks.
The next morning, I felt awful, but my head was swimming more from the cold than from a hangover. I was on call that evening and got called in about 6PM for an emergency open heart. The case went well and I left the hospital at 12:30. I got home, took a shower and curled into bed - shivering. I thought that was strange, but not much else, it was a cool-ish evening. About 30 minutes later, the arrythmia started. I concluded that it was minor and the result of not eating well, not sleeping, not exercising, being sick, taking cold medicine and being stressed.
I layed in bed and tried desperately to sleep but every time I moved, the arrythmia would recur. Finally, I checked my pulse and realized that I was dropping beats at a pretty steady clip. Again, I tried to logic my way through it, but it continued to worsen. Unable to sleep, and still on call, I showered again and got dressed. I figured I'd just go sit up at the hospital - better to be there rather than home alone. After I was dressed, it was about 3AM, I got out my stethoscope and listened to my heart. The rate was very rapid, too rapid to count, and I was dropping every third beat. That scared me. Once at the hospital, the arrythmia was so bad that I couldn't catch my breath and I was definitely compounding the situation with my own anxiety.
I walked over to the ER and said to the triage nurse that I was having a "pretty decent arrythmia" she took my vitals and said that the rate was a nice, normal 80. I told her that it was not, but that the machine couldn't count it due to the dropped beats. She listened for all of 3 seconds with her stethocope, pushed me onto a stretcher and did an EKG. Sinus Tachycardia - rate of 164. That's actually good news. They draw blood, give me a couple liters of fluid and 'lytes. Doc says that my myocardium is "very volatile" - probably due to decongestants and stress and wants to sedate me to see if that alone will allow a normal rhythm to take over. Luckily for me, it works. Embarassing as shit, but it works. After I'm sedated, he asks me what the source of my stress is. I just laugh at him. But, I dream about it.
In 2008 - I ended a relationship with a man that I cared deeply about, but he still won't go away, had the first incidence of cardiac arrythmias that required extensive testing to be determine that stress was the source, suffered through my daughter's very serious accident that was terrifying and largely my fault, dealt with the ex, finalized a divorce that caused a signifcant amount of grief and more financial stress than I've ever cared to admit, trained for and completed three triathlons, became very ill with my bleeding disorder that required a fairly emergent procedure, was forced to face some truths about life that I would rather have ignored, dealt with chicken pox, head lice, dance classes, drum lessons, crazy parents (not my own), crazy parents (my own), and subsequently bought a house that I'm happy about and petrified of. Through it all, there were significant work-related stressors, significant child-related stressors, and my desperate attempts to maintain a life worth living for my children and for myself. Moreover, my mother was in France, my father in Thailand. Stress? Nah, not much.
I had to call and wake up my parents to come get me at the hospital because I couldn't drive home so sedated. They were great about it, but it was so embarassing. They asked me why I was so stressed and I just laughed. I had to fight with them to let me stay at my own apartment, I just wanted solitude. I got home around 8AM and slept until 3PM. I took a sleeping pill when I woke and slept until 10PM. I took another sleeping pill and slept until 10AM. I woke today in pain - my entire body aches. I'm not sure that it's not from laying down for so long, but I'm also not sure that all of this wasn't caused from the Levaquin - arrythmias and all. I quit taking it, it wasn't helping with the other symptoms anyway. I've only had a few minor palpitations today.
Walker called while I was in the hospital and I told him what was going on. After I got home, he came by to visit which I found incredibly touching. I scarcely remember him being here, I was so out of it, but I do recall him saying, "God, you're so tired. I'm going to get out of here so you can rest." I wish I would have had the courage to ask him to hold me, to protect me from the invisible stress monster.
I thought I had made so many changes and so many strides. Now, I realize that so much more has to change in my life.
I don't want to whine and I know that my stressors aren't nearly as bad as some people have it. I don't have to worry about feeding my children. I don't have to deal with a chronic health issue. It's not THAT bad. But you know, I'd be lying if I said I weren't ready for the happy surprise on my doorstep, but one without a cherry bomb tied to it, OK?
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