Ever since I was in rehab following my legs' being amputated, I've been trying to find a yoga or aerobics instructor to work with me, at home, preferably. It's been almost 3 years since then, & only just a month ago, I found a yoga instructor, 2 actually, who can come to my house & help me learn which poses I can do, & which I probably shouldn't. This is the 3rd week, 2ce a week, that I've had practice, & I can really feel a difference in my lower back & hamstrings. If you think this might work for you, check around. It took me almost 3 years to find someone, but you might have better luck.
I did it again, according to my husband. After I'd been out of the hospital a week, I flipped again, & he called 9-1-1 (Emergency) because he "couldn't handle me". I don't want to be "handled". I think I've been "handled" enough for one lifetime, probably 2. Each emergency has ended with the police being called, my going to the psychiatric ER in handcuffs, & my stumps being twisted into strange positions. Each time has involved being made to "foul myself" (I'm being polite) for lack of a bedpan. Fortunately, when I was eventually admitted to the General Psychiatric Unit, I was allowed to clean up (we had 1 bath chair between several of us - not that we used it together, although that might have livened up my stay there) and treated with dignity & respect by the staff there. I've had an MRI & EEG, so now I have proof that there is a brain up there! After two 5-7 day stays, I've been diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for those who've been in a cave the past years). Where having my legs amputated wasn't the most pleasant thing to happen to me, I never really considered it "traumatic" once a bad infection got better, & the wounds healed. I also figured that, it's been 2-1/2 yrs since they were amputated, I walk pretty well, just not far, with my prosthetics, which are continuously being "tweaked" to make a "nagging bitch" happy (comfortable). I've already had some pretty bad spells, crying jags, pain pill overuse - not abuse because they make me itch, embarassment but more a sense of being so different kids stare at me & I smile back & often wink & will show them my robot leg if they're really interested.
But now I've got "committed" to add to the list of my misdeeds, & this is a small-enough town if you're born here that everybody knows everybody's business (at least, my mother thinks so). No, moving is out of the question - We wouldn't qualify to come to Australia, New Zealand, or any other place better than this that I can think of. Besides, Blair, I'd have to move all me mates with me, since most of us have been together since grade school. I don't give a rat's a-- what people think of me; once I had kids, I did tone things down a bit, but since I've been the retired mother of grown children, "disabled", sick (cancer), what my 19-yr old calls a drunk stoner (?), so now let's add CRAZY to the list of adjectives to my name. The one I object to the most is "disabled"; I'm pretty "able" as long as the "disses" aren't in the way. Even before I got sick, I figured I'd be one of those "characters", one of those little old ladies one meets that everybody knows isn't "quite there", but, especially in the Deep South, one was respected for one's "eccentricities", including OCD, ADD, ADHD, ODD (love that one!), early stages of dementia, and to some degree, Alzheimers. One big difference between "then" and "now" is that we live longer with these "disorders", not dying young of simple viruses & diseases wiped out by modern medicine. Nobody wants to take care of Weird Aunt Carol with OCD for another 20 years, that it's very possible that she may live, even though she has lung cancer - bitch smoked 27 yrs, so it's not like she didn't expect to die young. Problem is, now, I can expect to live another 20 years, even though I have cancer. & keep the bi-polar disorder (I don't really have these), ODD, or ADHD (hyperactivity isn't an asset I share with my husband). I'm having a glass of wine, which some members of our family (Southern Baptist, 7th Day Adventist) consider seeunful (sinful) in itelf, didn't go to church because I just didn't feel like it - right now I'm questioning religion's place in mental illness (right!), getting a good buzz on while feeling comfortably numb, & watching the original "IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT" on Turner Classic Movies. It's 4:30 PM Eastern Daylight time. I love this movie, & was scrolling around a minute when I found this. If you read all this, thanks, & I hope you know that I can get out of these moods as quickly as I get into them (yet I'm not bi-polar). It's raining, warm & humid, mosquitoes up the ass, just a dreary day in general. TBTG (Whiskeypalian for Thanks Be To God), the A/C works, the roof works, & I have wine & liquor! TBTG for my husband, who has to put up with a LOT, a HELLUVA lot, yet he's still here.
Wendy, if you read this, if I make this work with David, certainly things will work out for you. I hope they already have.
I had a whole "nice" blog to post, since I've been in the "looney bin", "bedlam", psycho ward, "mental health facility", or whatever euphemism one's country or culture uses to describe being committed to the crazy ward, as in "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest", "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden", more modern "Girl, Interrupted" (remake of I Never Promised You), Catch 22, Mash, & Weeds, the 1st 3 seasons. Let's see if I can find "Sybil" & "The 3 Faces of Eve", while I'm on E-bay. Joanne Woodward (3 Faces) is a S.C. girl (Greenville, SC), and she was one of the 1st actesses to address mental illness as a family thing, as well as a result of sexual & mental abuse by a parent or step-parent. Don't know if I'll be back on here, since my language, never really kosher, has gotten considerably worse since my stay in the loony bin, but I hope you all have a great f-ing Easter & remember: The American Way: Christ is risen: QUICK! Hide the chocolate eggs! Merry Easter to all you CEO's.
Good news/bad news - Spring starts tomorow, it's 80 degrees, windows open, wearing shorts, light morning rain, beautiful day/Gnats, mosquitos, pollen. I haven't checked in here lately, because I can never remember my user ID & password! It takes awhile for the (short-term) memory to kick in. The most important thing I've done recently is to quit taking Gabapentin in the morning & at noon, only taking a dose at night. I've found that if I don't take it all day, and I don't really miss it, especially if I'm not wearing my prosthetics, when I take it at night, I'm out like a f*** light! Never noticed that it made me drowsy when I took it 3 times a day. Even with my legs on, if I'm busy & not sitting in 1 position for any length of time, I don't need it. So, I'm weaning myself off the only pain med I've taken since shortly after my stitches healed. Hope everybody here's doing well & getting ready to enjoy warmer weather.
I should know better than to try any heavy thinking; I know it's bad for you. But the last couple of weeks I've done some soul-searching about what I've been thru & what's going on in my life right now. I was already retired when I got sick, so I had a life of doing what I liked & travelling before diagnosed with lung cancer. I still had a daughter in high school & was active with her band booster club, as well as church ministries. So I've been on the sidelines for the past 3 years or so. Lately, I've been feeling better, physically & mentally, & want to get back to a somewhat normal life. Daughter is driving my car to work, so I don't have available transportation to do volunteer work or run errands, but I'm ready to be a woman with a handicap, rather than a handicapped woman. What do y'all think? Are you defined by your loss of limb, or is it something that's an add-on, like "Oh, yeah, I wear prosthetics."
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