Monthly Archives: September 2005

A few praises…

I often find myself watching tv and movies and listening to music when I am alone. Usually, I do these things while Cassidy naps during the day. This gives me a chance to give my undivided attention, but also leaves me feeling a need to share in the experience when it is a moving one. I wanted to give a few examples of these moving entertainment experiences in this entry.
Damien Rice’s "O" CD is the first of these honorable mentions.  I can literally listen to this CD over and over, something I have never been able to tolerate, and feel the music each time.  The guitar is mezmorizing. His voice is classically seducing. The songwriting is envy inspiring. There are a couple songs that bring tears to my eyes with a smile on my face ~ almost like the rainbow in a storm. I can listen to this CD when I am feeling demolished and somehow end up restored. I can listen when I am in my best of moods and be reminded why. I cannot imagine anyone not liking this CD. But more importantly, if you are a true music lover, I defy you to not fall in love with it.
At his website you can hear live streams…check it out…

House. Strange name for a television show I thought at first. Wasn’t particularly interested. But I watched it anyway. Loved it from the first five minutes and haven’t missed an episode since. I had given up most dramatic shows, epecially medically based ones. They seem to provoke my anxiety and up until now, it simply wasn’t worth it (cough, cough…ER). I don’t care if I have to pop a sedative before watching. This show is fabulous and never disappointing. The writing is very intelligent. Hugh Laurie is officially my new TV boyfriend. It is medically and humanly interesting. I love a show that can make you cry and laugh and learn all in the matter of an hour. Watch it. Seriously. I mean it. NO REALLY…watch it!!

I saw the movie Crash this past weekend. I don’t think it is much of a secret that this movie is pretty great. It is one of those everyone and everything is connected kind of Altman’s Short Cuts and 13 Conversations About the Same Thing. But this one is blanketed with the topic of race relations. It is brutal, honest, and real. When you think you know what is going to happen, it swirves and goes another direction. It leaves you feeling embaressed and enlightened – or at least, it should. It is now out on DVD. Give it a rent.



The Trouble with Intuition

Ever since I can remember I have had this glaring intuition. Its not like I can read minds or predict the future, by any means. But I have always been able to sense when a person is lying, when people are talking about me, when there is a tension in the room, and I can usually sense a person’s true feelings. Almost like an empath of sorts. I believe this is all wrapped up in my heightened sense of being. I feel everything. I notice if my blood pressure raises a point. I notice it my temperature drops a degree. I can feel every little thing. I believe this is what causes my anxiety, allergies, and possibly even my tachycardia (due to the sensitivity to adrenaline). I am simply over aware. Over sensitive, physically, mentally, and emotionally. As I have been sifting through these possibilities, I have mainly focused on the negative perspectives of this ‘malady’. One of the unfortunate side effects is this damn intuition.
I can simply look at a person’s face and know they are being dishonest in some way. I can stand next to a person and sense that they have been talking poorly about me. I can seem to feel a person’s embarressment, saddness, jealousy, anger, what have you, in a way that isn’t obvious to most people.
It is hard to maintain relationships with people because of this. I try to always be genuine and authentic. I think that is very important. But how genuine can you be when you know ~  just somehow know ~ that they are being dishonest or betraying you in someway.
I guess you just keep up appearances. Be civil. Stand tall. That’s all I can do I suppose. After all, why waste energy on people you cannot trust. It is simply not worth the time.
Oh..and if you are wondering if your name crossed my mind while writing this…then yes, it probably did.

One year ago…..

After about 2 hours of sleep tops, I dragged out of bed. There were jumping monkeys in my stomach and a boulder in my throat. My nerves were so high, the hairs were standing up on my arms. We didn’t have to be to the hospital until about 9:00am, so we decided to get ready and head to Denny’s for breakfast. That was to be my last meal for about 35 hours. I had one poached egg and nibbled at my toast. I wanted to eat, but my stomach wouldn’t let me. Boy, would I regret that later.
Baby was 2 weeks late. Doctor decided to induce me on the September 15th. That was my Grandma Rose’s birthday, so sounded like a good day. I didn’t mind being pregnant and wasn’t in all that much of a rush to deliver. She was very easy to take care of in there. No screaming. She let me sleep. And I ate all the M&Ms I wanted (another regret I would have in the future). But alas, the day had come. She had to come out whether we liked it or not.
We got to the hospital and had to wait in a small room as they prepared my labor and delivery room. We watched tv as I tried to calm myself. We walked the halls, hoping to spark some dialation which hadn’t happened as of yet. We finally got all settled in the room where I would be for the next 29 hours. Right away they inserted (yes, inserted) a tablet called cytotec to begin the dialation. My mom and stepdad had arrived and we all played cards and watched tv. Charlie, my husband, ran home to get some things we had forgotten. Not quite 2 hours after the ‘insertion’ I started getting really bad cramps. Contractions I suppose they were. One right on top of another. They came fast and strong. By the time Charlie got back to the hospital I was asking for something for the pain. I was still not dialated worth a damn, so they didn’t want to give me an epidural yet. Apparently they were too busy stirring the cauldren and cackeling at my severe pain. (Most of the staff were actually very nice…but a few in the beginning just seemed to refuse to believe how much pain I was in). They brewed up some stadol instead. I got pretty loopy, also pretty nauseated. It didn’t touch the pain. I was begging for the epidural. Finally, my Doctor came to check on me. He demanded they give me the epidural and even seemed annoyed that they were refusing me. I finally got the jab in my spine and the relief was unspeakable. I was on cloud nine – hell, ninty nine. I sure thought it was going to be smooth sailing from there. Ha. The calm before the storm.  The tease of a lifetime.  A cruel joke from the Gods. 
I was great for about 3 hours. I felt NOTHING. I watched tv, talked with family, had a few visitors, joked with nurses, and ate some popcicles. I even fell asleep. Charlie, my mom, and me were asleep in the room.  Then BAM! The earth opened up and released the evil demons there to torture me.  I woke up in the worst pain. It wouldnt stop. It was constant. The epidural stopped working. WHAT? How can this happen? They couldn’t figure out why. They even tried giving me a new one. That didn’t help. This went on for hours. The pain was so unbearable I think I may have left my body at one point…at least I tried to. They gave me more stadol, but that just made me puke.  My water finally broke the next morning and I started pushing. She was stuck and I pushed for at least 6 hours. It was so hard. They kept telling me to do it a certain way. I was just thinking "Listen dog face…unless you wanna trade uteruses right now, shut the &*^%$ up!"  I was certain, and I mean certain, that I was going to die. The doctor arrived. I looked him square in the eye and said "You get this out of me now and I mean NOW!" His eyes widened and he said okay. He got the vacuum and about 15 minutes after that she finally came out. She was born at 12:46pm September 16th. Remember, labor started about 11am on the 15th. It was no longer Grandma Rose’s birthday, but it was now my Grandma Betty’s birthday.  
My placenta did not deliver as the pitocin machine quit working. Nice. Could THAT be why I was in labor so long? Who knows. I bled alot. But at that point I didn’t care. The pain was over. I even felt the needle where he stitched me up and I didn’t care. I had to wear a cathader for the 3 days I was in recovery because I was so traumatized ‘down there’. It took a long, long time to heal. They gave me percocet and ibuprofin the whole time I was there. And prescriptions for when I left.  All the nurses in recovery were amazed I hadn’t had a C-Section. They just kept calling me ‘poor thing’.  But, it was indeed worth it. I won’t do it again anytime soon let me tell ya, and if I did have another I would probably demand a C-Section..but it was worth it.
Baby was perfectly healthy. She didn’t sleep much. Too busy crying. Her nose was all crooked and smooshed. And her hands were fisted and always waving. I called her Tyson. My Cassidy. A stubborn fighter from day one.
Happy birthday sweetie. I love you. But, prepare for the guilt.