Depression..The silent killer.

It’s officially December and I am not in the Christmas spirit like usual. Usually, I would be going all out with decorations and such, but not this year- maybe lights and that’s it. Due to moving in Jan. We don’t want to have to haul extra stuff than what is needed. Plus, it will be the first Christmas without Mommie, Mr. Mike James, my cousin Racheal Mary Meche, Ms. Nancy Moticka

It has been too much death in one year; not to mention all the other I care about who isn’t around anymore either- My other grandmother (maw), and then one of the most influential women in my life, Mrs. Evelyn Zehner, “Mrs. Z” from Camp we can do. It’s just so hard… I know there are worse people off, but for some reason I just cannot get into the spirit yet this year. Is it because of not decorating much this year, the financial stresses and having to ask mom to loan money for us to buy Christmas gifts until David can find a job? I don’t know. Just tired of always being miserable. I can’t remember the last time I was sincerely happy for more than a few hours.

😥 I don’t know, I just been depressed all day today. Hopefully, I can get out of this funk. Prayers appreciated. I hate it when I get depression.

Self Esteem Poem

Staring in the mirror,

Once again,

A never ending war,

Another day to settle,

On the reflection,

Staring back at me.

                Scars on my back, stomach, and side,

Evidence of my pressure sore, and trache also,

“My battle wounds,”

Of my Medical War,

Taunting me,

As they still are so evident.

                The Squishy, poor posture,

That prevents me,

From feeling beautiful,

And having that “model look”

In crop tops and bikinis;

                Physical differences rearing their ugly faces,

Evident and tormenting me.

I punch the reflection, then yell,

Holding my hand now,

I sit back and think,

Back on my life,

And suddenly smile.

                All the wonderful people in my life,

Some I wouldn’t have met,

If I had not had,

The bad physical disability that I had.

                The lives I’ve touched,

The people I’ve inspired,

How I gave others hope,

Why can’t I do that for myself?

I suck down the “poor Pitiful me” party,

And break another smile,

I am thankful for everyone in my life,

Because even though,

I am not “normal,”

They are in my life,

                Love me, and make my life,

Which would otherwise be lonely, cloudy, and grey,

Shine with a beauty bright. 

“What is Normal?” Poem

What is normal?

Is there an exact definition?

What does it look like?

Is it defined as:

Someone who looks like you?

But how can that be,

When everyone is designed differently?

                Does it have a common religion?

Or language speak?

Once again, how is that a possibility?

When each person varies,

In faith and speech?

                I know!

Maybe, perhaps, it is someone who behaves as you?

Once again, this cannot be,

The way they present themselves,

And act publicly,

Could be to show off,

Or due to some disability.

                So, I ask this question repeatedly,

What is normal?

To me,

The word does not exist,

Except by segregationists

                Do you wish to segregate?

And insinuate hate?

No? Then hear my plea,

Let’s erase this word,

From every persons’ mouth,

Erase it from the world’s vocabulary.

What is normal?

A wrecking ball of bad news; my heart broken and demolished into a zillion pieces.

Today, while in the waiting office of my pain management dr, I was scrolling through facebook, when I suddenly saw something that ruined my entire rest of my day; A friend of mine in St Louis, Missouri, Mr. Mike James, passed away overnight.

I met Mr. Mike James in 2012 while I was in halo traction at Shriners Hospital for Children-St Louis; he worked at Cabela’s and the company would come to the hospital once a month for “Cabela’s night” where their volunteers would bring educational things about Native Americans, animal trapping, hunting stuff (no weapons) just pictures or like duck calls. It was a highlight of the month for all of the patients to enjoy.

I was one of the oldest patients there, so the adults would often talk to me about “Where I was from,” “what I liked to do,” “If I had ever been to a Cabelas,” stuff like that, and a few of them got close with me because of my “spunky attitude,” these included Mr. Mike James, his wife Nancy, and our mutual friend Beverly Duval. They were there through it all- my surgery, my recovery until I went home, when I went back for checkups, when Beverly hosted me for a week for spring break, my first boyfriend, and they had just met my fiance’ and he approved of him, even liked him, and planned on attending the wedding next year. Now he’ll just attend in spirit.

One week and a day ago, we were having dinner with you and your wife. One week and a day ago, we were laughing and chatting and catching up, you and my fiance’ were talking “hunting, guns, Trump, politics, all kinds of things.” Plans were made to attend my wedding next year, talks of us thinking of possibly moving near you and your wife, plans for you and my fiance’ to go hunting together. 
Now you are gone, back to heavenly home and everyone left behind are in mourning. 
You were one heck of a guy, Mr. Mike James. I will miss your comments on my facebook, I will miss seeing you when I go up to St Louis. It feels like a bad dream that I cant wake up from. I wish I could just wake up and this nightmare not be real. It feels like someone punched me in the stomach. it feels like a giant lump in my throat. It feels like my heart has shattered into a zillion fragmented pieces. 

😥 RIP Mr. Mike James. I know you def. earned your angel wings. 

❤ Fly High.

The latest “Twisted Tale” in my journey called life; Surgery coming up fast!!!!

so the latest on my back: I saw dr. Kelly today. He is very optimistic. His plan is if my rods aren’t infected (we did labs), he says he will just open the incision scar where my rods are broken at, clean up my wound, and add in some “dominoes” and add in some extender rods.” It will be “Simple and sweet,” as he put it. 

:p The date is the same, August 14, but I need to be here by the 12th because I need to go to get my central line valve put in on the 13th. If he does what he wants, “simple and sweet,” he doesn’t think I will have as many complications like I did last time bc last time I had broken ribs and pneumonia from that which led to trach, blah blah blah…the framework already there, this is just some maintenance repair! LMAO. 
But whatever God’s will, will be done. 

Share my go fund me please!!! https://www.gofundme.com/jamie-has-broken-rods-and-other-problems-occurring

A pretty great Sunday :)

I woke up with a minor migraine, but no level 10 pain today in my back- could’ve been that I knew Mom was bringing my sweet Beignet (my mixed-breed rescue dog) for a visit; ever since finding out about my broken rods, she’s been living with Mom due to my not being able to hold her leash for walks. Mom dropped her off around 10:30 a.m. (Mom went to Mass). 

Mom came back from Mass at about Noon and asked what David and I were doing for lunch. I said, “we have leftovers, but it didn’t sit well on my stomach.” Mom asked “what do you want to do,” to which I replied, “I know I always say it’s blasphemy to have Deano’s pizza without Dad, but…” Mom laughed and replied, “but you want it?” To which I nodded my head. She got a giant 3-type pizza like we normally do and it was delicious! She then left to go get things from my Uncle and Aunt’s house and was going to come back afterward to pick Beignet up to go home (She came back at around 4ish.) 

I got to spend about half the day with my sweet Beignet 🙂 We snuggled, practiced some commands, played with her toys, all 3 of us took a walk (David, Beignet, and I- David held the leash). Was a great visit with her, and I was ready to see her off at 4ish because I wanted a nap (didn’t want her to leave, but I knew she was gonna leave anyway- so I wanted to treasure the time I had with her). 

While Beignet was here, I had very minimal pain, but it must’ve been a distraction or something because a half hour after she left, I had to take my pain medication because it hurt really bad again. *Sigh* 

At least half of my day was good and sunshiny, that is better than nothing at all 🙂  

Medical Headache, incompetence, and idiotic rules

As you all are aware by now, yesterday I went to Vidalia for a pain management appointment and found out that I have Osteoporosis forming. Today, I called my Surgeon in St Louis, Missouri, to find out if it would affect my surgery.

Missouri office: Can they fax it to the results to us?

Me: I’ll call and ask.

Vidalia office: we need a release, however, we can send the results to your referring doctor.

Me: Okay.

Referring Dr office: Oh, we can’t fax other doctors’ records.

*Facepalms* This is why the medical field and disabilities suck. Can’t get help, what so ever. You are a freaking Dr. Office, do your job!

I called the St Louis office back and explained the situation and they are going to call Vidalia and see if there is something they can do.