In My Perfect World

I've been thinking that maybe the US needs it's own Brexit.  We could divide the country up into several smaller countries who are self sufficient.  If I were the leader of my own country I'd want it to be socialist but socialist for only people who want that.  Everyone would chip in to keep things running with the agreement that everyone gets free education on a vocation of their choice, everyone gets healthcare when they need it, including preventative healthcare, everyone gets reproductive health when and how they want it.  Abortion would be free and fetal tissues can be used for stem cells to treat a ton of horrid diseases.  There would be a clinic just for dying humanely.  If anyone wants to die they can go to the clinic and speak with a representative who will help them get all their affairs in order, including a will, taking care of debts, children or pets, and then they can hook up an IV, go to sleep and never wake up.  They can donate their organs to others or their body to science if they want to.  Everyone has shelter and food and no one is left on the streets to die.  Anyone who gets caught in any kind of crime that robs the community of its resources will have ALL of their resources confiscated and they are banned from the country.  All leaders must pass a physical and psychiatric evaluation before being allowed to take office and everyone's vote actually counts.  At the age of 18 a person can read the constitution of what the country stands for and if they don't like it, they can go to another country.  Cannibis would be easily and cheaply available and in all forms.  I'm not even sure money would really be necessary in this type of country.  Resusing, recycling and environmental care would be ingrained in every citizen from the time of birth.  There will be no factory farming and all animals must be raised and treated humanely.  All children will learn meditation, mediation and mindfullness so it is part of the culture.  Woman may go around topless just as men would since the human body would not be overly sexualized.  There will be no shame associated with sex and marriage will be between consenting adults, be it 2 or more than that.  Doesn't matter.  With marriage, those consenting to marriage all draw up an agreement of who gets what should anyone die or get a divorce.  They decide all that from the beginning. I guess I'm sort of describing a commune. 

I would also like to say, I really love the Facebook group I'm in for my city.  I have found out that it is LARGELY liberal and this pleases me greatly.  Every time a Dumpster tries to stir shit up, they get stomped down hard.  Pflugerville loves to make a play on words that start with an "f" sound, like Pflugerville Pfun.  I'd like to suggest to the Dumpsterse that they start their own group.  They can call it Pflugerville Pfascists.  Shaun and I were nervous when we moved out of Austin because it is a lovely haven for liberals but Pflugerville has been really good to us too.  The city itself lacks the colorfulness and "weird" that Austin has but the people are pretty awesome so far.

Oh I have a bit of good news!  Shaun finished our tax returns a few hours ago and we are getting a very good amount back.  One of my student loans will be paid off!  This is so amazing to me.  

Trollin Trollin Trollin

Onward and... onward.  Who's to judge what's up or down?  It's more like a spiral... Even circling the drain can go on indefinitely if the right conditions are present.

I got in a flamewar last night.  Some cheesy scrotal sack posted in my neighborhood page, "Where are my Trump supporters?"  That set off a bomb.  It started polite with several "not here"s and then there was my puke emoticon.  Then some religious nutbag started going on with her scripture bullshit.  She literally said, "I'm so glad God is in the whitehouse for the next 16 years".  Okay first... Is she trying to say Dump is God?  For reals?  And what's with the 16 years nonesense?  I really wanted to articulate my feelings of irreverence towards her scriptures and I'm a stickler for semantics so in my word smith/trolling with rage self I told her that in her name I will be having gay sex on a bunch of bibles, then smear dog shit all over them and burn them in my fire pit in the back yard.  Do you think she got my message?  I mean, I sometimes have a hard time with being too vague.  Shaun is now worried we'll be lynched.  Well I did get a like on it from the moderator so there's that.  I gave up trying to change people's minds a long ass time ago.  Now I just go trolling once in a while as a way of... I don't know, playing with my food.  It's cathartic in its own way and I actually lost all my fucks about "going high".  Seriously?  Every country conquered was not conquered by people playing nice.  While that would be amazing, it's not humans.  Humans suck. So if I see a human waving a big target in front of them and they pretty much symbolize a piece of shit helping to take my freedoms away, I'm going in for the kill if I'm in the mood for it.  Doesn't make me feel even the slightest bit of guilt.

A couple of friends of mine got married yesterday... my bff actually.  There was no wedding though, because they are so scared that Dump will take away their ability to be married that they decided to go ahead and make it legal ASAP and do an actual wedding at a later date.  It makes me sad they had to do that and also sad I didn't get to be there.  I hope they really do have a wedding though.  Fucking Dump, dumping on everything good.

I recently had an appointment with my oncologist.  Just a check up and blood tests I get every 6 months to make sure everything is going okay.  She had a talk with me about my weight, which has been creeping up ever since my cancer.  Before I was diagnosed, I spent several months on Jenny Craig.  Normally I am very successful in those types of structured weight loss programs but it wasn't working for me and I had no idea why.  A few months later I was diagnosed.  I spend a large amount of time hungry... ignoring hunger and eating tiny safe meals and my weight just continues to go up.  I'm limited with exercise options since swimming is about the only cardio I can do without making my hips worse.  Working nights really sucks ass.  She actually suggested I look into bariatric surgery so I'm going to look into it.  Fat makes estrogen.  Estrogen grows cancer in me and I can't tolerate the estrogen blocking pill.  It made me severely suicidal and I had a lot more pain.  So, we'll see.  I'll go in for a cosultation.  It's actually possible I can get insurance to cover it.  Sometimes I really hate my meat suit.

Women Power!

Yesterday was inspirational. Millions marched in the Women's March all around the world to protest Dump and his shitty corrupt patriarchy.  I loved all the pussy hats.  There are people on Etsy making a killing right now!  Haha!  It probably won't change much, except to pressure greedy politicians who's only care in the world is to be reelected, but we'll see.  Dump has a way of creating daily scandal so his bullshit gets forgotten about because no one can keep up with it all.  Still, the video and pics were incredible to see.  I read it was the largest protest march in US history.  Yeah, pussy power!!  I wish I could have marched with them and been a part of the whole movement but alas, working 12 hour night shifts on the weekends does not go well with doing daytime stuff on the weekends.  I can't exactly call in sick.  There's no one to take my spot.  My kid is almost better.  He went the whole night tonight without needing extra oxygen.

I deleted another person off my friend's feed.  Anyone who supports dump just makes me want to puke, especially if it's a woman.  It just disgusts me.  This particular woman even has a disabled daughter and she's decided the women's marches are silly because Dump has only been in office for a day so he hasn't even had a chance to do any damage.  I just can't wrap my mind around how stupid people are.  I mean were they in a coma the past few years?  Were they in the middle of the wilderness with no TV or internet or news?  I mean seriously!  How are people SO FUCKING STUPID?!  There should be a basic IQ test to breed and vote and if you fail the IQ test, then you have to be tested for empathy and kindness and if you have neither, you go off to be fertilizer.  Then at least some good comes out of your usage of precious oxygen.

Shaun is freaking out about Texas going after same sex marriage again.  They are wanting to take away our insurance benefits.  Before the Supreme Court ruling, married couples paid for insurance at a lower rate than, say, a single person with another person attached they weren't married to.  Since Texas didn't recognize same sex marriage before that, we paid an extra few hundred a month, even though we were married.  They actually never took that fee away but the city reimburses Shaun for it.  Anyway, he's saying if they force us to go back to paying a single rate again and yanking all of our rights away, he wants to move out of here but honestly, I don't even know where we would go.  Starting over at our age is risky and rough.  He'd have to start at the bottom of the ladder wherever he went and the bottom of the payscale.  You can't make lateral moves in a job like his.  I would probably be okay but I'd have to support us while he went through the months long process to even get hired and then have to go through a few months of academy training before he'd even get started.  It's like a 6 month process.  He has a plan but it will take years to accomplish.  There are many things I love about where I live but Texas as a state, ugh!  I fucking HATE the politics here.  It's so ridiculous.

I need a new fun show to watch on Netflix.  I just finished Jane the Virgin, which is hilarious and awesome.  I have several serious shows in my list so I'm not lacking in those but I need fun and light hearted stuff too that isn't too boring, like Gilmore Girls.  Gilmore Girls is the biggest waste of time.  I have no clue how anyone is even remotely interested in that boring ass snooze fest.  How mediocre and unfullfilling does a person's life have to be to actually find it interseting?  *barf*  My condolences if you actually like it.  I make no apologies for my words.  BORING.  FUCKING.  SHOW.

Stress Management

Working the night shift has its advantages.  One of them being that when shitty things are happening during the day, I sleep through the whole thing and then get the cliff notes at the end.  Today was one of those days I was grateful to be sleeping during the day.  Right now I'm mainly focused on keeping my stress levels down and concentrating on more personal pressing matters like my friend who is dealing with cancer, and, apparently, also kidney stones.  At least he got a much needed blood transfusion.  I hope that helps him get his energy levels up a bit.  I'm also very hopeful that the dismantling of the ACA at least waits until he dies so his family can have more time with him.

I'm at my wits end with the massive levels of hypocrisy I constantly see from people. Protesting is ok for one side but not another.  People who are supposedly lefties, desparaging a woman for her tacky outfit.  Regardless of what her outfit looks like, you never see people desparaging men like that, unless what they are wearing is feminine, which is just another extention of hating on women.  That's sexism people!  As long as you continue to do shit like that, women will constantly be treated less than.  Knock it off!

I recently deleted a few ladies off my list that I know through a local Dem group.  I need to dial down the rhetoric I see and each person posting 10 times a day about how bad we are fucked is not helping my mood one bit.  At least 4 years people!  It's a marathon, not a race.  If people are throwing a tizz over every tiny slight, the big stuff gets lost.  One of the ladies I deleted keeps private messaging me.  I'm not sure if she's doing it to annoy me because I deleted her or she's rambling because she's uncomfortable.  She's let me know that she's praying for me.  Awwww!  Thanks!  Byeeeeeee... I told her I don't pray but hope she's well also.  Then I get a big paragraph of her spiritual views.  Lady, I don't give a fuck!  I seriously don't!  I had a fuck in my pocket but I was wearing women's jeans and you know how tiny the pockets are in women's jeans, like women don't have shit they need to carry around in them.  Last time I checked, my fuck was gone.  It isn't just about rhetoric either.  This woman also runs a lost and found pets page for the city I work in and the way she runs it drives me nuts.  Unless you are part of a core group whose only life purpose is saving pets, you will be treated with suspician and grilled to death to make sure you aren't going to chop up your found animal and saute it in a wok.  I mean good grief people!  Take a fucking Xanax already.  I just hit my limit with her.  She later sent me an apology message about her being tired and in pain, after jumping all over someone I know who did not do everything perfectly.  Okay well, I get it.  Hope you get a handle on your pain but I no longer have patience for your constant shenanigans.  Like constant... for weeks on end and I have to interpret every message because it's so full of typos.  I'm just annoyed and lack patience.

I'm going to take a minute to compose myself, unclench my jaw, and carry on with my life like I normally do because that's what I have control over, and each day when I wake up, I'll check the headlines to see the cliff notes of that day's episode of our real life soap opera and carry on again.

*Today I'm still legally married
*Today I still have health insurance through my spouse
*Today I still have a job
*Today I'm alive and healthy
*Today I still have a home to live in

Love and Marriage

I'm actually posting at work!  I found myself often sitting here wishing I had an actual keyboard to type on.  It really sucks to try to write something long with a phone or tablet.  I have an old laptop that's actually really nice but it's very big and heavy and I couldn't get anything to work on it... not even the camera!  I originally was going to download Skype on it so I could video chat easier.  Trying to balance my tablet so it's not pointing at the ceiling is tedious and annoying.  It wouldn't even download Skype.  Shaun agreed to let me buy a new laptop.  I was going to get a cheapie one since I wasn't going to be gaming on it or anything real strenuous but ended up getting a pretty nice one for a thousand.  It's very thin and light, has the camera, of course and a decent amount of memory so I'm not sitting here forever waiting for stuff to load.  Hopefully it will last me a long while.  A few hours ago Shaun was able to fix my old laptop by downloading Windows 10 from a mirror site.  When I tried to get it from MS, they wanted me to pay over $100.  When did people have to start paying for that upgrade?  Anyway, it still gets hot very easily so he's going to open it up and see if it's anything obvious.  If it's an easy fix, maybe we'll find someone to give it to who needs a laptop and doesn't mind lugging a 10 pound laptop around.  lol...

Enough small talk!

Yesterday marked 7 years of Shaun and I being together.  I think 7 years on Friday the 13th is pretty awesome in a numbers sort of way.  I had to work and we decided we don't need to celebrate for 2 anniversaries a year.  We actually have 3 anniversaries.  We have January 13th, when we officially became a couple, February 13th when we got legally married, and April 13th, when we were handfasted before it was legal for us to get married in Texas.  We are choosing the handfasting because no one tells us when our marriage is real but us.  Still, yesterday was significant, even if we didn't do anything major.  I got some nice comments, the ones that people are supposed to say and I kept my big mouth shut because I didn't want to ruin it.  I'm not saying that because I think things are bad.  They have been good, actually, since I had to climb out of my dark hole, but what I wanted to say was that it wasn't good times and laughter that held us together.  Anyone can stay together when things are good.  I wanted to say that we have stayed together because we've gone through some major shit together and figured out a way to get through it... So far.  I guess that's the other thing.  I try to never take what I have for granted.  Sometimes, when you've been with someone for a long time and they've put up with your same shit over a long period of time, you can get comfortable and think that continuing to pile shit on them will always be forgiven, but I've learned that everyone has their limits, and sometimes those people hit that limit and they are just done and over it and you lose them.  We check ourselves.  We know our flaws and we know what lines not to cross. I should say that we are still learning which lines can and cannot be crossed.  Shaun learned one of my lines that cannot be crossed.

A lot of it is learning how to fight without fighting dirty.  Sometiems we actually play fight and to us it's hilarious but some people think we are actually arguing, which is also funny.  It has to do with comedy shows we watch.  We watch these actors saying and doing the most ridiculous things and we are both amazed how they don't crack up or we wonder out loud how many takes it must have taken to do the scene without busting out laughing.  That's what we do with each other.  We say ridiculous stuff and try to keep a straight face and the other one says something equally ridiculous and it goes until someone busts out laughing and you get to declare yourself winner.  It's actually one of the ways we have avoided getting into real fights.  I'm not even sure something like that can be taught.  That past year or two has been a bit rough because I would try to do that with Shaun and he would blow up at me.  After everything fell apart a few weeks ago we had some really great talks and one of the things we kind of sorted out was how my cancer affected him.  He said he's been having a really hard time lately because people keep asking him how I'm doing with the cancer.  Also that when I was on chemo, it changed my brain in way that I could not tell when someone was being sarcastic or serious.  That coupled with us discussing some things that have been bothering my cuz, that make her feel like he's taking his time with me for granted because I may not live a long life.  When I brought that up he kind of blew it off but I saw validity in it.  I mean, I don't dwell on it because there's no point, but she's right.  I did less than half my chemo treatments, no radiation and no hormone blocker pill.  I'm happy with my choice but the survival rates are based on 5 years and I'm only 2 years out of it.  A few days later he got real emotional about it and overwhelmed.  He had some really freaky calls come in at work and everything just kind of crushed him.  He said he can't handle the thought of losing me so he just tries not to think about it at all.  I get that too.  He's been all over the place emotionally and I really think he's going through perimenopause.  I think the crazy hormone imbalance is also triggering a mid life crisis type thing.  Oh, and he also got majorly fucked over by a coworker.  He's been studying for the captain's test for the last 6 or 7 months and in order to take the test, there have to be 3 people show up for it.  One of his coworkers never showed up so he and one other person sat there waiting until 9am and they cancelled the test.  They only get one chance a year to take it too and next year, there will be many people eligible for it.  That takes care of the 3 people part, but it also means there's way more competition for one spot.  It just really sucks to me that one person can have that much control over everyone's life.  This person also calls in sick all the time and doesn't give the tiniest shit about her job.  Shaun has been totally devastated by it and just trying to ot have a complete breakdown since he's just barely hanging on the edge himself.

Speaking of which, he did go see our gynecologist, who is the best ever, and scheduled a complete hysterectomy.  I'm really hoping this takes care of a lot of issues.  *crossing fingers*  We shall see.  The hormone/period issues have been going on for many years and have gotten a lot worse over time.  The surgery is in 12 days. That should also make our sex life better so we don't have 2 periods a month to contend with.

Well my patient is waking up so I must tend to him.  He's been sick this week.  IT was a bit touch an go a few nights ago but I think he's on the mend.  Yay, no hospital!  *knock on wood*

Walking In Traffic

Okay so here's the update on the present.  After I had a total meltdown and Shaun started his period, he was like oops, I was just seeing if maybe you had changed your mind about it by now.  Bish, how about I present you with a pet snake and say I was just seeing if you changed your mind about your worst fear.  Okay, anyway, so Shaun has an appointment on Thursday to meet with our gynecologist about getting a hysterectomy.  He has had a lot of symptoms of severe hormonal imbalance for years (yeah, let's add another to the mix, shall we?) and major pain and swelling issues, which are getting worse.  He has refused therapy and antidepressants due to the side effects, so hopefully a hysterectomy will fix some things.  I'm not really holding my breath but I'm hopeful wishing.  He says he no longer wants testosterone and was just having a "little freak out" but I cannot imagine he would actually bring that to the table, knowing how i feel about it, without being totally serious or seriously stupid.  I mean... seriously.  We shall see what transpires.

On another somewhat related note, I had read from my lovely LJ friend about her husband and her having separate bedrooms and how it's great to have their own space to retreat to.  I have another couple of friends who do that as well and both have had happy long term marriages so I decided to suggest it.  We have been doing it a few weeks and actually Shaun has been a lot nicer since then.  He likes the room cold with air blowing on him and a tv in the room.  I hate cold air blowing on me and I don't like having a tv in the room.  It's also crowded with 2 of us and 4 cats on a queen bed.  So far he says he's been getting amazing sleep which hasn't happened in forever and it's been beneficial for us.  We spend time with each other before going to sleep and then go to our respective beds.  We've slept together a few times since then and it actually kind of sucks.  I like having space and being able to move around. He now has 3 fans blowing on him and a tv going in the background and loves it.  That works out a lot better than the last time I was married and having problems and suggested polyamory.  Haha!  In case you wondered, it didn't fix my marriage.

So, on a totally unrelated note, I have to share my dog drama.  Last NYE, I was driving home down the back country roads and there was something in the road that I nearly hit.  It took me a minute to figure out it was a very tiny dog!  I ended up following this little dog that was running down the middle of the road for about a half mile.  It finally stopped and ended up hiding under my car in a very precarious spot at the bottom of a hill.  It was a little Yorkshire Terrier that was terrified and very snappy.  I few people tried to help me but this dog needed finesse.  Two ladies ended up helping me get her out from under my car.  One was a vet tech and man, she was like the dog whisperer!  She was in scrubs and on her way to work so I let her take the dog.  It took us about a half an hour of laying on the road and carefull circling the dog with a blanket and pulling the edges around her with a stick and then slowly pulling her out.  It was hard but we did it!  I had posted about it on our local lost pets facebook page and then had to let it go.  I forgot to get any info about the woman except her first name and the type of job she worked in.  Then, a few days ago, on my way home from work, I see a lost dog sign that has this dog's picture on it!!  I called the number and talked to the lady who said she still had not found her dog.  I told her what little info I had and felt horrible for not getting more information.  The more people who replied to  me on my post to the facebook page, the more I was wondering about what kind of place the dog came from and how I never really had any more claim on that dog than anyone else. I handed it over to the person who seemed the most qualified and that person was the only person I actually met out of all the people involved and I felt good about her as a person and about her dog skills.  I got a tip from a woman I didn't know through private messaging that she thought she knew who had the dog and gave me a screen shot.  I looked over the profile and figured out, that was her!  I found the woman who had her!  I tried calling her work but they were already closed.  Then I decided to call the owner but no one answered and a recording said, "This person has not set up a voice mailbox yet".  Oops, red flags!  That was weird!  I talked to the admin of the lost pets group about it.  She said she needed to sleep a bit but to tag her in the discussion so she could read it later.  I put my name in the search and up pops this post from 2 months ago of that lost dog poster!  I just happened to post a comment under it 2 months ago giving a suggestion!  What are the odds?!  I recognized the poster that I saw in the road and the phone number but I had never seen that poster before a few days ago.  So weird!  I was freaking out about it and decided to look through the owner's profile.  Turns out, she's a breeder.  She breeds and sells yorkies online.  See, here's where the line gets gray.  I really fucking hate breeders.  I'm sure she's a nice lady and all but I fucking haaaaaaate breeders and I know that breeding those tiny dogs is also dangerous for them and she lost 2 female dogs the same day.  HRMMMMMMM!!!!  So I was in a dilemma.  Now that I know the name of the owner and the name of the person who has the dog, do I exchange information or just quietly push it under the rug?  Do I give the lady her property (like it's just furniture) to be forced to breed or be sold to some stranger or do I let the dog stay with a person who's amazing with dogs and maaayyyybe get sold?  It's a hard choice but I decided to just let it roll.  I gave the owner a few leads already so if she really wanted to find out she probably could... maybe.  Or, I could look at this as a rescue from a life of slavery for some bitch that wants to make money.  I looked up her breeder site and she had one dog on there for $3400!!!  I mean, REALLY?  If your dogs are worth that much, why aren't they fucking chipped?  That I will never understand about people.  There are a lot of people with purebreeds they spend a fortune on and never chip.  Totally bizarre!  I did discuss this with the lady who moderates the page and she agreed with me.  We bury it.  She started posting a bunch of posts about pets to make it go away.  I really hope I get to hear the end of this story at some point.... a happy ending hopefully.

This Mortal Coil and Conversations with Death

I apologize for not responding to any of the comments on my last entry.  I've been formulating my next entry as sort of a reply and update.  I have been pondering one thing in particular.  It's a common phrase meant to bring comfort but is not actually accurate.  I didn't want to sound bitchy or judgy when I talked about it so I'll give a bit of backstory and hope my words come out the way I want them to.  This is meant to bring a different perspective.  Not to shame or judge another person's.

So, aside from all the crazy traumatic stuff that most women have had to deal with and process, and even stuff anyone would deal with, I'd like to share a few memories that have shaped who I am.  These are things I don't normally share because when I do, it's kind of like ripping off a scab from a wound that never actually heals... but I know the ones who read this DO care, so I will share.

I've been thinking a lot about death and my relationship with death lately.  That probably sounds very weird but I have a connection with death that many have never faced.  This is not to say that I have suffered more than most in the world, but from the people I have known or met, most would not be able to relate to these things.

One of the earliest memories I have, after my babies were born way too early, was me being awakened in the middle of the night.  My son, Logan, was not doing well.  They wanted to take me to him right away to make decisions about his care and also to be present, should he die.  I had lost a lot of blood and was sick with E Coli, at the time.  I had a fresh C-Section incision from half a day before and was in pain and weak.  Two nurses helped me into a wheelchair.  In spite of being white as a sheet and in a cold sweat, I still remember the events that followed.  They had to keep wiping cold wet cloths on my face to keep me from passing out.  I watched as nurses and doctors surrounded my son's isolette and watched helplessly as one domino after another fell.  He had a pneumothorax, then more of them... He had a brain bleed, seizures... Everything was crashing.  I had to make that decision to remove life support.  Death was imminent.  They must have known he wouldn't make it because right after I had my babies, they wheeled me through the NICU on a gurney and they allowed me to touch his foot.  That would be the only time I ever touched him while he was alive.  He lived 14 hours.  They brought his lifeless body to me in a tiny blue onesie and knitted blanket.  There was a woman who made these tiny clothes just for preemies who died while in the hospital.  He was 1.5 pounds and perfect.  I got a box full of platitudes and the standard issue hospital pictures that are issued upon discharge, whether alive or dead.  I still have that onesie.  It has a blood stain on it.  That stain of blood is all I have left of my son.

After that I focused on my other two.  Caitlyn had a host of problems but she got through almost all of them.  Would you believe it was antibiotics that killed her?  They shut down her kidneys and she was too tiny to perform dialysis on.  Over the course of 3 weeks, I watched her tiny 1 pound body double in size with fluid.  At first we thought she was urinating a little bit, giving us false hope, but after a while realized it was the IV fluid they were giving her.  It was also yellow and it was leaking from every hole in her body.  Her eyes were fused when she was first born but after a week or two, they opened and she had the most gorgeous blue eyes.  I would touch her at first and she would recoil, but after a while, I could tell she was exploring my hands and fingers with her feet, curiously.  That didn't last long.  She required large doses of pain medication to deal with her chest tubes and edema.  I remember having the wife of a well-meaning friend come to visit.  She saw my daughter and her condition and burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.  It was shocking to see it the first time.  I was more used to it.  She had to excuse herself and leave because it was too much for her.  The last week of my daughter's life, they were having a hard time keeping her chest tubes in because the edema was so bad. It was like trying to sew through gelatin.  The stitches would just pull right through her skin.  Her skin turned brown, due to all the capillaries bursting from being overloaded with fluid.  Her entire body was a bruise.  This time, I got to hold my baby alive.  I wanted her to feel love and warmth for her last moments, not machines and tools.  The nurse removed everything except the ventilator tube.  I removed my shirt and sat down.  The doctor removed her ventilator tube and quickly brought her to me.  I held her to my chest and talked calmly and lovingly to her.  I felt something wet on my chest which I later determined to be more TPN, the yellow IV fluid.  She vomited some on my chest.  I listened to her take about 4 breaths on her own. and then no more.  This time I got a tiny purple dress and blanket and they took pictures of me holding her with her dad next to us.  We were trying our best not to be sobbing in the picture but it's pretty obvious in the picture we were shattered inside.  I got another "dead baby box" full of platitudes.

With no time to actually grieve, I still had one live baby to take care of... Garrett.  The hospital memories that stand out were things like me walking in and seeing my son having full on seizures while being surrounded by doctors.  They had to suck the fluid off his brain with a syringe every day for a while.  Eventually, the bleed stopped and we thought all was well but it would be nearly a year of unexplained fevers before we discovered the extent of his brain damage.  He went blind from the ventilator.  He could not tolerate being held, he could not ever nurse and it took a while to figure out that he was aspirating whenever we tried to feed him by mouth so we had to tube feed him.  He was also on oxygen and the tubing would come out easily so we took shifts watching him.  I slept on the floor with him at night.  One night, while his dad was working late, he had an incision break open.  This was from a surgery he had on his stomach to keep him from vomiting.  There was no one in Kansas who would or could do the surgery so we had to drive him to Oklahoma.  This made things rather difficult when things went wrong later.  So an incision that was very easily exposed to hydrochloric acid, was glued shut, rather than sewn.  It popped open and hydrochloric acid was oozing out of the hole in his belly.  I remember the streams of acid going down his skin and instantly dissolving his skin, blood welling up.  He was screaming in pain but the area I give him pain meds was no longer available to me.  I was helpless and freaking out.  My baby was suffering and I could do nothing.

Later in his life, once we discovered the extent of his brain damage, we decided that we were done taking him to the hospital and done forcing him to get cut on and poked at.  We put him on hospice care, got his suffering under control (he finally slept!), and waited for the thing that would end up killing him.  Right after he turned a year old, he got a cold.  He had never learned to breathe through his mouth and his nose was stuffed up so he literally couldn't breathe.  That was the moment we could have rushed him to the hospital or we could let him die.  His oxygen sats were all over the place, even though he was on oxgeyn, full blast.  So here's the tricky part of this moment.  We had already discussed this with his pediatrician but since it's such a high liability subject, there must be a lot of paperwork signed and approved.  We had about half of it done but his pediatrician was on vacation when this happened and we did not have the final paperwork.  Oxygen was considered "comfort care" so it was actually illegal for us to turn it off.  After maybe 3 or 4 hours of watching my son trying to gasp for air and cry and scream for his life, I decided fuck this shit and fuck your fucking liability.  I called the hospice team and made them come over and watch him suffer.  I made them see what it looks like to have a helpless infant fighting for breath for hours while they worry about their goddamned paperwork.  LOOK AT HIM!  HIs dad and I made an agreement that we would turn off the oxygen together and if either of us were imprisoned for murder, we would visit and take care of things.  It took maybe 45 more minutes after that but only 5 minutes of actual struggling.  After that his breaths were tiny and shallow.  He had no fight left in him and hung limp in my arms.  I took all his tubing and cords off and took him outside, cordless for the first time in his life.  I let him feel the sun on his face.  His dad rubbed grass on his feet.  I COULD ACTUALLY HOLD MY SON.  I remember after 45 minutes of his shallow breathing, I just hugged him tight.  I hugged him tight so he could not take another breath again.  I decided for the third time it was time for my child to die.

For six months before my son died, I was on the brink of insanity.  I researched suicide methods during those months.  I actually found a website that was a discussion board filled with people who were exchanging ideas on the most effective methods of suicide.  Several threads were from people who had attempted and failed and the rest would rally to help them come up with the the reasons it failed and how to be more successful in the future.  A big favorite was helium tanks.  They would breathe in pure helium through a mask but there was a problem with people unconsciously ripping off the mask at the last second and coming to.  I made my plans, should certain conditions arise, but was only still alive, at that time, out of obligation and duty to my son and then husband.

Within 2 weeks of my son's death, I registered for college and was headed for the nursing program. My marriage was getting bad and I wanted to be able to financially support myself in the shortest amount of schooling. In that time, my then husband turned his grief and rage on me and our divorce was on Valentine's Day, at his request.  I ended up dating my son's hospice nurse, who was the best man I ever dated.  He later told me he was pretty sure I would end up dead by my own hand but he said he was happy to get any amount of time with me, be it a day, a year or the rest of our lives.  He actually helped me get through a lot.  I lost my sense of purpose then, which was to be a mom.  That was my focus for so many years and it was gone.  During my research of suicide methods I also read up on Near Death Experiences.  I'm not a religious person but I allow for the possibility of anything really.  I just find the stuff that feels right to me and keep it.  I talked to psychics, read some books and decided that just in case my babies were on the other side and just in case they could see me, I wanted them to see that their presence in my life made me better.  I wanted to succeed because they existed.  I also wanted any chance to see them again and not killing myself was also another just in case thing.  I had to really search for things to be grateful for, like the birds singing in the trees and even having trees.  Maybe someday they won't be around anymore.  I mean, that's starting from rock bottom.  Just grasping for anything and everything to keep on waking up the next day. I have since formed the belief that all beliefs are formed to help people get out of bed the next day.

Time passed and I somehow made it through nursing school.  Right after starting as a new nurse I came out of the closet and suddenly I had no job opportunities. I had lots before that and suddenly... nothing.  I impulsively got involved with someone online in a relationship and moved to Puerto Rico.  It ended up being a very manipulative and abusive relationship.  When I went there I was on anti-depressants and in order to keep getting the meds, I had to meet with a psychiatrist, who decided my dose was too high and cut it in half.  That on top of being in a terrible relationship, being broke and isolated from friends and family and being stuck somewhere where I didn't speak the language, sent me into a spiral that would take me years to recover from.  I was there 7 months and probably 4 of those months I spent sobbing every day.  I became self abusive, internalizing my rage and loss of control.  I did try to reach out to "friends" for help when I was feeling really low.  I was basically called a drama queen and to quit whining.  The Xanax I was given to help with my anxiety didn't work so I just saved it.  I saved up until I had maybe 30 of them and filled a pint glass with tequilla.  I waited until my girlfriend went to work and and took all the pills and drank all the tequilla.  I remember taking a shower and then waking up in the bed the next day to a very angry girlfriend.  My armpits hurt.  I found out she had been dragging me around the house all night trying to keep me awake and alive.  Apparently her mother was downstairs calling up to me and when I didn't answer she came up and saw me naked and unconsioius on the bed through the window.  She called her daughter who came home early.

So there was my second very close brush with death.

Ever since my experience with my babies, I have stood at the edge of a very deep pit. One wrong step and I'm going down the hole but it takes very much effort to get back out.  I am a control freak for this very reason.  My life with Shaun has been, for the most part, very good.  I would say it's been the only consistently good thing in my entire life, where I felt like my life was at the same or a similar level to most people who I view having pretty normal lives.  While I realize this is not at all healthy or good to say, the truth is, I am alive because of my relationship with Shaun and because of my cats.  Before that, I felt like I was in a prison and marking a line on the prison wall just waiting to die.  I got cancer treatments because Shaun asked me to and because I wanted more time with Shaun.  There is but a tiny web connecting me to his mortal coil.  Very few people in my life actually know this about me or what exactly led me to be the way that I am.

When Shaun shared the hormone stuff with me, I lost my fucking mind.  Perhaps it's more clear now, why.  Shaun saw a side of me I don't think he realized existed.  I have realized that perhaps it was a mistake to warn him of these parts of me because it's possible he took it as a form of manipulation to control him.  I keep all the most vulnerable parts of me locked away in little boxes, so I appear strong.  Many believe me to be strong for surviving the things I have but I'm telling you, I'm a paper sky lantern floating up into the sky, just waiting for that tiny shift in the breeze that will send me up into flames.  My spirit is incredibly fragile and I have to work very hard to build an environment and a "reality" around myself that will be enough to give me a life that I can deal with.

Some things we go through don't actually make us stronger.  Some things, we just survive but are left forever broken and limping our way through life.  Some things you don't heal from.  You just figure out a way to live with the wounds.

The latest with my marriage is that things are actually more stable, at the moment.  A few days after this chaos rained down, Shaun started his period (that's still weird to say) and was suddenly okay again.  GRRRRRR!!!!  An appointment has been made with the OBGyn to discuss Shaun having a hysterectomy.  I actually had more details to share about this but I find myself to be seriously exhausted after all I've already written so I'm going to wait to share more on that.