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.

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another sleepless night; chronic pain and tears.

A bad storm passed through Louisiana this week so it has been quite a bit of sleepless nights for me lately and then add in the dreaded once a month bullshit us females have to deal with, adding in stress, anxiety, hormones, emotional roller coaster, all that (sarcastic tone) “fun.” Tonight, I tossed and turned for 2 hours while my fiance’ just lays next to me snoring; sure, I could wake him up and make him suffer with me, but that is selfish plus he works to provide for us, so I guess he needs the sleep more than I do, but it sure would be nice to be able to talk these things out instead of blogging them.

I have a mattress that can elevate the head, it helps with migraines and sometimes my upper back (then I gotta deal with my lower back and hips hurting), but tonight my upper back is hurting and I am not even gonna use the head-elevation because lately it has been making my fiance’ back hurt in the morning; which sent me down the dreaded “rabbit hole” of the uncertainty of a future together: What if I become bed-ridden, what if he has to help me with everything more than he does now? That isn’t what he signed on for! It isn’t fair to him. I know he made a commitment to me and he constantly reminds me of it anytime I start crying and freaking out about how much pain I am in and the fears that sends into me about how uncertain my life and future are; I just don’t want him to have regrets or resentments. I love him, I really do, but when these fears kick in, I go into flight mode and tend to push him away, thinking I am saving him from being stuck in a sucky future with me and my damn disability. How can I expect him to accept it and what it does to me, if I cant even accept it completely myself?

If there was a pill created to make me “normal,” like everyone else in society, I would take it! Even though I also feel like having my disability has made me a well-rounded, wise, empathetic, compassionate, supportive, loyal, passionate person. Does it make me a bad person? Why is it I can be a support system and cheerleader for others with disabilities but yet I cant even accept myself completely? Does it make me a hypocrite? Maybe its just the pain talking; well the pain and the damn devil. I need to really work on myself and loving myself for me; whole-y and completely. Maybe after my surgery to fix my rods, maybe my pain will be better, and I can start being happy again. One can only hope.