sunflowers
Just wanted my 300th Post to be summery! Thanks to everyone out there for your kindness and support. You are a fabulous group of people! Keep it up!
Stories—the small personal ones that bring us close as well as those of the larger world—foster compassion. In the telling of our personal lives, we’re reminded of our basic, human qualities—our vulnerabilities and strengths, foolishness and wisdom, who we are…, through the exchange of stories, [you] help heal each other’s spirits.
–Patrice Vecchione, Writing and the Spiritual Life
Growing up, I was a shy child. As the years went on, I came out of my shyness a little, but as I grew older and started getting serious about life the shyness reappeared in certain situations.
I think we all go through an awkward phase as a child, I’d say I hit mine around the sixth-grade or seventh-grade. The summer I turned twelve years old, I shot up over six inches in height. Mom thought she was purchasing stylish glasses for me, when truth be told, they were the ugliest glasses I had ever seen.
Anyone with an opportunity and a mean streak took it upon themselves to let me know how gawky and goofy I looked in those glasses. As I got taller, I was the second tallest girl in my class and the first girl to develop in all the right places. I was taller than everyone in the class. That just added to the fire.
Another thing that added to my “nerdy” status is that I developed allergies as a child. I grew up when they didn’t know how to treat allergies. I was always sick, had a lot of food allergies and did a ton of throwing up after meals. Not so easy to make friends when you are literally the snotty girl, always scratching and have the ability to vomit at the drop of a hat. Kids can be so mean. I was sick so much, mom thought I needed to see a doctor daily. The ironic thing about mom running me to the doctor constantly, was that the brain tumor I have has been there since I was a child. I was sick, but not for any of the reasons she was taking me to the doctor.
All of these, should have been good things, but the kids I grew up with saw a vulnerable girl they could hurl their latest ammunition at. It was like some bully kept a book and said “let’s pick on her today.”
One stupid new girl decided she would target me on her own. I became her pet project at her new school. She took particular dislike to my glasses. I was called “Four-Eyes” so many times in the eighth-grade that I decided to let her foolishness stop bothering me and decided to kill her with kindness. Sometime in the night-grade, the bullying stopped. The new girl, never turned nice through four-years of high school, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t let her get to me.
I took my classes, did my school work and survived high school. Most of us do. What you have to remember about bullies, is that they are just jealous or sometimes it could be as boy or girl who is sweet on you and doesn’t know how to handle their own feelings. Be patient growing up, God will get up through it! I went to college away from everyone I had known for years.
After graduating high school, the shy girl came flying out of me again. Nursing school put me into situations I didn’t know how to handle, so I did my best. If I was uncomfortable in a situation, I worked my way through it. After I was married the first time, I ran into people here and there. What I noticed the most, was they acted like we were life long friends. God says to forgive and I have forgiven.
Doctors are not kind to new nurses or old ones at that. My first nursing job, opened my eyes to how crude the medical profession can be. You would not believe, what goes on behind the scenes, at some hospitals here in Georgia. In all my life, I did not realize how ugly people can be to one another. I grew-up quickly.
After my first husband and I divorced, one of my first jobs as a single woman was at the local jail in my hometown. The saddest part of that job, was seeing more people I went to high school with in jail than on the streets of town. A few were hard to believe, but others I had seen in trouble for years. I dated a deputy for a while, and he got a bit stalkerish. Someone in jail, that I had known for years, stood up for me. He did the right thing and said something when the time was right. I never got the chance to say thank you! Thank you, Joe! I know he’ll never see this, but at least I have said it.
I went through many jobs, that finally lead me to the career I was meant to have. I stayed with that career until I was forced into retirement by a nasty brain tumor called a gangliocytoma. I would later discover the tumor was just a symptom of a genetic disorder called Cowden Syndrome. Sine that diagnosis, I have survived Thyroid Cancer and I am dealing with breast cancer. Every month, I am in some doctor’s office being probed, prodded or x-rayed.
Note to all doctor’s that do lumpectomies, tell your patient’s about the fluid build-up possibility and the possibility of acting like a leaky pipe under your arm. It would make life after lumpectomy less stressful.
I’m getting tired, but I refuse to let this mess get the best of me. God has a plan for my life, otherwise I wouldn’t still be around. It is not my place to question that plan. I have tolerated this breast cancer episode better than things in the past. Either I am tired of fighting, or learning how to give it to God finally. I’ve prayed about the subject. It must be sinking in.
Stairsteps3
My sister’s and I are now adults. There have been many changes. Once, Sandy and I were close, but I have become much closer to Kristie as we grew up.
Sandy married early and started a family early. She and her husband, Dennis, have twin boys and a girl. All but one are out on their own with their families started. Derrek is the hold out, he is looking for his perfect mate. I have no doubt he will find her eventually.
Someone Dennis worked with, introduced me to my first husband. I was head-over-hills in love. We were married and I moved to Madison, Ga., lovely little town. I discovered while in Madison, I missed Kristie terribly. Twelve years later I was divorced and living back in my childhood home.
While Sandy and I were doing the marriage thing in Madison, Kristie got stuck dealing with mom and dad as they filed for divorce. For years, mom firmly stated, the minute Kristie was out of high school she was leaving.
Two weeks, to date of Kristie’s graduation, mom packed up and left. I felt so bad. She had been threatening for years, I guess I never thought she’d. Mom was really good with acting on her present tense threats, not her future threats. She generally forgot what she had threatened.
I was proud of Kristie, she dealt with the mess at home, started school, helped daddy through finding an apartment and moved in with him. Pop is a pack rat and living with him was not easy. Kristie made a forever friend at school and her home became Kristie’s second home. It was good to see her happy for a change.
Mom met and married her second husband sometime in this period. Just thinking of my mother on a date is scary, but actually getting married. When we would call to talk to her, he would claim he did not know her. Things really did not get better.
We found out somethings from his past, that made Sandy and her husband refuse to let mom see their kids until she divorced him. This only made mom mad. Mom went to Sandy’s one day and flattened all her car tires.
She proceeded to The Office of the Department of Family and Children’s Services. She reported to a case worker that Sandy and Dennis were mentally abusing their children by not letting them see their grandmother.
What mom didn’t realize was that she was talking to a close friend of mine. My husband being in Law Enforcement, she called him the minute mom left her office. She told my ex that my sisters and I needed to go to the courthouse to have mom committed for incompetence. The sad thing is, back then, neither Sandy, Kristie or I had the nerve to do it. We knew what we’d have to deal with when they let her out!
Not long after that, Kristie met her husband. They were married and starting a family early. Kristie and I found out we were pregnant at the same time, about a months difference. I miscarried for the fifth time and Kristie delivered Jonny. He is like my child.
This pregnancy was the end of my marriage. My husbands attitude changed and it started to effect our marriage. It wasn’t long after that we filed for divorce.
Sandy stayed busy with her happy home and wonderful kids. It used to aggravate me beyond means for my mother to drive past my home, to Sandy’s. She would then call me and say “get out here to see me,” even as an adult, my mother put me in the shadows because I didn’t have grandchildren.
Sandy has worked hard and has a beautiful family to be proud of. Kristie has done the same. She has two beautiful boys she is busy raising. They have both done incredible jobs being moms. I spent these years focusing on my career and working. I’ve done a great job spoiling their kids rotten. Thanks to Julie-bug, I can start spoiling the second generation.
Kristie had been married a few months when I got divorced. I moved back into my childhood bedroom and attempted to get my life together. Jonathan was the light of my life. When he was old enough, I took him everywhere.
His bottle was my alarm clock every morning, he would beat me in the head saying “Gege” until I got up. He towers over me know. We had such special times together when he was younger. I wish I was able to do the same things with Marek, the little man of the family. I miss the old me, but the new me gets better every day.
I had several jobs until I found the place I loved. I was still in that profession when I was forced to retire due to the brain tumor.
This position required me to train people and do a lot of one-on-one speaking with families and corporate officials. I have been brought out of my shell. Taking care of myself wasn’t easy, but I learned I could do it alone.
Not long after starting this position, I met Barry. Little did I know, I had just met the love of my life. Barry was the man I would spend the rest of my life with. He was sweet, handsome, funny and such s gentlemen.
Our one quirk, is his son, Frank, hates me. I have done everything I know to do for that child and he still hates every inch of ground I walk on.
Our health issues started with Barry, but his had been under control, with medications, for years. The hospital trips started with me and the brain tumor, then the thyroid cancer, then it switched to Barry’s heart valve, back to my gallbladder and knee scope; next came Barry’s stroke and my breast cancer. We’re gonna stop there for now. I don’t want to give any body parts ideas…we’re running out!
Before I write this, I want everyone to know every word is TRUE! The sad thing is, this is only one story of many I could tell.
My name is Jill. I am the middle child of three girls. My sisters and I are close. We had to be close growing up. Mom was a little hard to deal with when we were kids. It wasn’t until recently, that we have started to understand mom’s behavior as we grew-up.
Growing up, I worshiped my older sister. I followed her everywhere. I didn’t let her out of my sight for long. When I started my cycle, 2 weeks after Sandy, mom started telling everyone; “Jill never could let Sandy do anything by herself.” I was eight years old and Sandy was 11. At this point, Kristie was young enough not to care about anything her older sisters and what they were doing. She was too busy growing up.
We grew up in a small town in the days when it was OK to leave kids at the movies, mall (actually I’m not sure we had a local mall yet), or skating rink without grown-up supervision. When mom and dad left us on our own, Sandy took on the role of protector. She watched Kristie and I like a hawk. She wasn’t going to be in charge if something happened.
An unbelievable incident occurred while we were at the local skating rink. The incident slowly evolved from some bigger kids picking on Kristie. She was wearing a tube top, one of the older girls grabbed by the shoulders and dug her finger nails in, to the point of bringing blood from the scratches, left across her shoulders.
Kristie immediately ran to Sandy and pointed the girls out to her. Sandy told the Security Guard, who had a talk with the girls. Which apparently did not a bit of good, because they ran to their mother’s. Their mother’s proceeded to corner Sandy and threaten her.
When mom arrived, Sandy told her the story. You could see mom’s switch flip from cool, calm and collected; to do not mess with my kids. Sandy pointed everyone out to mom. The security guard realized mom had arrived and he proceeded to attempt to talk her out of saying anything.
Mom went to talk to the older girls. They ran to their mothers. When their mothers confronted our mother, the security guard called the police. I am not sure how to describe the other women involved, politely. They were like no other women I had seen in my lifetime. This was the first time I ever realized women could actually shave their eyebrows and paint them back on. Not a look I care for.
A crowd started to form around the car my mom leaned into to discuss the situation. She must have said something the women in the car didn’t like because they sell got out of the car, came around and surrounded mom.
The driver of the car, pushed mom backwards. Mom got up fighting. She jumped the driver. The next thing we knew mom and the driver were rolling around on the ground and the other women were landing punches as they could. The crowd was wild.
Before the fight was in full swing, the Security Guard called the police. We could here the sirens getting closer in the background. The police arrived, they attempted to stop the fight and desperate everyone. All I could see of the fight was fists and hair flying. At one point, I watched my mother grab the Security Guard and tell him to leave her alone if he didn’t want to loose what she was grabbing.
The police finally separated the fight and attempted to sort out what happened. I do not remember much after this, because our father had been contacted to pick us up. We were taken home and sent to bed. When we got up the next day, mom was home and the previous night was not mentioned.
I have a relationship with my sisters that others have trouble understanding. Maybe it has something to do with our childhood. We went through a lot together.
My husband was an only child. He had one child with his first wife. My oldest sister’s husband grew up with a brother and sister. My youngest sister’s husband is from overseas and grew-up with a sister. Other than Barry, everyone grew-up with a sibling.
Libor, Kristie’s husband, states that he has never seen siblings get along so well together or exhibit the closeness we do concerning one another.
When Barry and I were married, it took him ages to get used to our relationship. He became a little upset with me once when he overheard a conversation between my oldest sister and myself. He felt I should have been asking him the kind of questions, he heard me asking Sandy.
I tried to explain that I’ve been depending on my sisters for advice on certain topics since I was a kid. He grew up an only child, not knowing what it is like to have a closeness with a sibling. As time goes by, he grows closer to understanding our relationship.
You have friendship, brotherhood, and many other words to describe a kinship between people. If you do not know or understand what it means to be a sister, you do not know what you are missing.
Sisters are a different breed. We interact with one another on a different level than brothers and friends do. We know each others deep, dark secrets. We ask and answer each other questions you’d have trouble asking you husband or closest friend.
Sisters tell you when they think you are acting like an idiot and then they will also let you know when they think you are brilliant. You can always count on your sister. Through good and bad times, they will always be there for you.
You can count on your sisters to always be open and honest with you. When you get sick, your sister will be there to do whatever needs to be done. Part of being a sister, is being able to tell your sister when they are being complete turds and need to remember there are other people in this world than themselves.
Everyone has busy full lives today, you can’t shuck off your responsibilities to suit your needs. Once a sister, always a sister. Once a daughter, always a daughter. There are a few things in life that cannot be changed.
With sisters, you can be fighting like cats and dogs one minute or not speaking for months; let something happen and your sisters will be there at the drop of a hat. Sisters are always there when you need them.
Being the middle child of three girls, I felt like I was in the shadow of my sisters daily. We went through the same school system, rode the same bus, had the same issues with our parents. Some how, I man managed to feel over-shadowed by my older and younger sisters. Teachers, the bus driver and other school-related employees used to ask if I talked as much as my older sister. When I said, “No, I was the quiet one.” Their answer was always “Good”.
Kristie over-shadowed me when she was a freshman in high school. I had spent most of my junior year, sick and out of school. Upon returning my senior year, my baby sister took it upon herself to be my protector. She wouldn’t let anyone mess with me. Mrs. Gieger, the bus driver, said Kristie talked too much also. She told me once I was a nice break between my two sisters.
Stairsteps1- Jill and her sisters
The drugs have worn off, I’ve started my exercises, and I rode in the car this afternoon. I took a pillow for comfort, but it went really well.
The pain is subsiding, until I move my arm too much. I still have my faithful bottle of giggle pills. I have drunk so much liquid I feel like my eyeballs are floating. I have to flush all that lovely dye and anesthesia out of my system. The sooner that mess is out of my system, the better. I’ll feel better and I’ll stop resembling a Smurf around the edges. The doctor says that effect will go away in a few days.
The wait has begun. My appointment is on the 10th to get the pathology report and make treatment plans. I’m not worried, it’s in God’s hands. But now that I am more alert, it is on my mind. That simple little report is going to have such as huge impact on my life. It is hard not to think about it.
In between all the hoopla above, my left knee has given out on me and they are injecting chicken cartilage into the knee in hopes of forming a cushion in there to keep bone from hitting bone. So far, it helps for a few days, then the pain is back. It is a series of three shots. I’ve had the second one. If this doesn’t help, they want to discuss a knee replacement. I truly am NOT sure how I feel about that.
Our lives are in God’s hands. He has a plan for us all. We are not to question that plan. We are to be good people and better Christians.
Barry and I study our bibles. We have devotions with one another and we are active at church. Loving every minute of it. Barry and I have discussed that we feel more complete and better about where we are headed than we have in years.
I am finally catching on to the practice of handing things over to God. This breast cancer experience has shown that to me. My stress level has been lower and I have been able to turn my head off and go to sleep at night. Every prior health issue has caused me to worry myself sick. I tolerated this so much better. I’m proud of my progress. I wasn’t sure I could do it.
I’m learning to deal with my illness/disability as part of my life. The new “Jill” is progressing. Took me long enough. I blame my slowness on the brain injury caused by my brain surgery. Is it not awful that you have to cause a “brain injury” to save someone’s life when a brain tumor is discovered. Also, it isn’t like I’ve been a little busy.
I’ve been able to get my exercise regimen going again. Feeling better and walking better. Hopefully this latest health issue will not put a damper on that. My exercise makes me feel better.
The babble is starting, which is my question to stop typing. Have blessed night everyone.
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Jill is doing well. Surgery started late and took longer than anticipated. Now we wait 7-10 days for pathology report. We finally got her home. I got her settled in her chair, all doped up and sleeping. Now I.m gonna figure dinner out and sit myself down soon! Thank you all for your prayers and support. Jill truly enjoys blogging and enjoys all of you!
Thank you,
Barry Baynes
Do you feel uncomfortable when you see someone ;else being embarrassed? What’s most likely to make you squirm?
What makes me uncomfortable is seeing anyone think they have the right to attack someone, in public, for whatever reason.
I wouldn’t call the feeling I get, uncomfortable. It leans more toward anger than uncomfortable. As Americans we have rights. In my book, one right should most definitely be; the right not to be attacked in public unjustly.
I feel more uncomfortable for the person doing the attacking. Not only is what they are doing embarrassing, it is just not nice. The reason/cause of the attack doesn’t matter. It, flat-out, is not right!
Coming down off my ‘Nice’ high horse, I’ll admit there is something in public that makes me cringe and want to point something out to another person. I never do it, but I feel terrible for even thinking about it.
I’m embarrassed to start with, that today’s society has a named things like “muffin tops“, “whale tales”, “tramp stamps”, and “bro-pants”. It is just sad that our society thinks it is OK to dress the way they do out in public. Since when is it OK to wear your pj’s to the grocery store?
As a woman, when I see another woman or girl out in public dressed as if they should be wearing “Spanx” from head to toe makes me cringe.
I am uncomfortable being shown the top of someone’s rear when in public. Call me old-fashioned, I do not care! Whatever happened to having a little mystery in your life? Do you have to show all you goodies off, every time you are out in public?
Next time you think you are ready to leave the house, take a second look. Think about the people who will be looking at you once you leave your home. Have a little mercy, please!
Through the exchange of stories, we help heal each other’s spirits…Isn’t this what a spiritual life is about?
–Patrice Vecchione, Writing and the Spiritual Life
Writing for me is an outlet to show my true self. Writing allows me to be completely honest with the world and myself. I have become more verbal on topics I would normally hold in to eat me alive with stress.
Recently, I have felt a new strength developing through my writing. I feel my faith has strengthened and I am changing as a human being. I look at the world differently. As a child, I the beauty of the world amazes and astounds us. As adults we have forgotten what a beautiful place we have been blessed with by our precious Lord. It suggests the old saying. “Stop and Smell the Roses”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stop_and_Smell_the_Roses
I look at my family, friends and life in general differently. My health has been a huge factor in the changes noted in me. I have been through so many lab tests, x-rays, CAT Scans and MRI’s that you could probably see me glowing in space or find me easily with a satellite. Dealing with my rare genetic disorder has brought patience and tolerance into my life (which are 2 things I was sorely lacking in). I’m a nurse. I once thought I was blessed with the patience of Job until receiving my first diagnosis and my roller coaster ride started. After brain surgery, I quickly learned to dislike the word, Time! I’ll re-post from my blog on ‘Time’.
******This is a re-blog. I felt it was appropriate to post it again, cuz that old dislike is the word ‘Time’ is coming out again. I have something go wrong and I feel like crap-ola. All the doctor’s office can say is give it time, they will come in. I truly do not like being in this position. One thing has changed since I wrote this, I have been reminded that I am not supposed to worry about things. I need to put it in God’s hands, he is in control. So much has gone on since 2009, I had kinda forgotten that huge fact. I am actually beginning to feel more at ease about my illness. I do not like getting worse, but I have to remember, I’m just getting closer to him. Honestly, being able to give a little of this worry up is wonderful! I’m loving the peace!*****************************************
I learned to hate that word several years ago. When you are healing after anything to do with the brain, everyone’s favorite thing to say is ” Time, just give it time.”. I do not know about anyone else, but both Barry and I are a tad impatient. Time is a word impatient people can’t stand.
I have to admit that I enjoyed paying Barry back with a few time comments. You have to understand my husband’s quirky sense of humor. I know he thoroughly enjoyed telling me “Give it time.”. He smiled and giggled a little too much after saying it. I turned it around and now use it on him just a little. I tried to hide my snickering.
OK, well down to the news I need to share. My visit to neuro-oncologist was quite informative. He gave us more information than we have ever received from other doctors. He confirmed that I do have Cowden Syndrome. With my medical history, he doesn’t feel the blood test is necessary. He is scheduling an MRI of the brain and a full body PET Scan. He says he hopes they are both negative, but to be ready for the possibility. Said it could be as simple as the thyroid cancer not being totally removed or something else manifesting in the neurological symptoms that have been popping up. Here we go again with that word, TIME! Barry and I are praying and giving it to God. If it’s meant to be……….
I have always been a very compassionate person, to the point of being a sucker. Barry’s stroke strengthened my faith and spirituality. When he was healthy enough, we found a church to call home. We are enjoying getting to know the church community and trying to find which ministry we would like to be part of.
My health would be my precipitating event. Since 2000, I have had 3 spinal epidurals; been through a year with a masseuse; a year with a pain management doctor; been through thyroid cancer three times; my tonsils grew back and removed a second time; had brain surgery for a benign cerebellar tumor; been diagnosed with a rare genetic disease that causes tumors to form through my body; lost my gall bladder. had a ruptured cyst in my left breast and am now facing breast cancer. Surgery scheduled for Tuesday.
I have definitely felt the need to get closer to God and learn more about my religion. I study the bible regularly. I have learned more about the Bible in the last year than I ever did attending church as a child. Barry and I read together every evening. We are trying to get through the bible before summertime.
My re-found spirituality has helped me to notice and appreciate the world around me again. My relationships with my family have improved. I love my husband more everyday! I thank the good Lord daily for bringing him into my life.
Barry and I are now taking care of my mother. She wasn’t in a healthy home-life with her husband. When her health started to decline, she moved in with us. It was a bit of a struggle to start, but we are getting used to each other. I have written about the transition we went through when she moved in. It has been healthy for Barry and I to work on the posts together.
In closing, in my opinion writing has changed my life. I look forward to it daily and enjoy planning my post each week.
For this week: How has writing deepened your spirituality? Your compassion or insight? How have faith and spirituality manifested themselves in your life? Was there a precipitating event? Write about the prayer that writing becomes, the spiritual journey that writing has helped you discover.
Our favorite workout place! Photographs provided by Barry Baynes
Early bird, or night owl: Definitely Early Bird depending on you definition of early. Below you will find pictures of a few early bird-feeder raiders.
Before brain surgery, I was definitely a night owl. After the surgery, I threw my alarm clock away. I had an internal clock that would have up and raring to go by 7am everyday.
My body is physically out of the bed, but once up I have a two-hour exercise routine to wake my voice and body up to be able to work properly. If I do not exercise, my body and eyes are crazy all day. I enjoy proper function, do I endure the daily grind.
After 2-3pm, my body heads in the other direction and it is nap-time. My voice starts slowing down and I have to do my eye exercises hourly to keep them focused. My legs hold up a bit longer, but it is usually best if I am to the point of my day that I can start winding down around 8pm.
I love to get out and drive on my own. Shopping used to be my stress release, even window shopping. It feels great to be able to make it out on my own at times. I drive better than I walk.
Purple Finch 
Golden Finch 
Brown-headed nuthatches
Two Rights Attempting To Make A Left! 
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