Deja Vue Donation

Last May, 2017, I donated Bone Marrow (a process called Peripheral Blood Stem Cell Donation).
It was, and remains, one of my proudest moments; that I was lucky enough to be a match for someone anonymously and save their life. I had said since I registered with Be The Match, since I wasn’t a bone marrow match for my Dad, and couldn’t save him, I wanted to help save someone else.

Fast forward almost a year later.
My Bone Marrow Donationversary will be May the 15th.

For a while, I wanted to donate blood.
I had donated once before, randomly;
There happened to be a blood drive at my Gym, a few years ago.

I signed up with United Blood Services there on the spot.
A few questions later, and I was on my way.
One of the bonuses of donating was for the first time, finding out my Blood Type.
For whatever reason, I had always believed I was Type B.

My Father could eat a 72oz steak and still have low cholesterol. Bitch.
I look at a McDonalds hamburger, and instantly my cholesterol skyrockets.
My Mother has always had high cholesterol, too.
She also has a thing for Firefighters,
so our running joke has been I get my cholesterol from my “Fireman Father”

Because I remember everything and never let it go, with my Dad in the car, if a fire truck passed us, I would wave and say “Hi, Dad!” to my Fireman Father.

At any rate, I donated that one time, found out I was A+, and then promptly flashed back to Mrs. Tuliszewski’s 10th Grade Biology Class, when I remembered a chart showing the possible blood type combinations since I knew what Blood Type my parents were (I was sneaky like that!). So I googled the chart, and WHEW! My Parents were actually my parents! It was logistically possible for my Dad to be my Dad. I sighed out of relief.

I called UBS and signed up to donate a couple of months ago, but I ended up cancelling the appointment when I couldn’t kick the cold/strep throat I had been battling.

After a friend posted he had donated a few days before, I decided to sign up again and called last Saturday. They had an opening on Sat, but I chose an appointment after work on Tuesday, yesterday.
I’m a firm believer in things happen the way they are meant to, and this was no different.

Pulling into the parking lot, a single purple flower flew across my windshield. This has historically been my Grandmother or my Dad telltale sign of saying hello, and so I smiled.

After I signed in and answered a bunch of questions, they took a blood test to ensure I was healthy enough to donate. My Iron needed to be at 13 or Higher. The finger they tested on my right hand registered a 12.8. UGH! They asked if I would like to test my other hand, which I did, and my left hand knocked it out of the park. WHAT?! That’s my non-dominant hand.

When they saw my Blood Type was A+, the staff said they were in need of platelets and would I mind donating those instead? WOULD I MIND? Of course not! I was excited. My Dad’s platelet levels constantly suffered as he dealt with the Myelodysplastic Syndrome, and in some way, this was like the Bone Marrow Donation, from my perspective. I could help my Dad, by helping someone else, who needed platelets. I could help someone who needed it, like the person close to me currently struggling with their platelets, or someone’s mother, someone’s father. Someone who loves, Someone who IS loved, who could benefit.

The procedure itself was quite similar to the Bone Marrow Donation.
They asked which arm, and it didn’t matter to me.
Interestingly, they too, chose my left arm.
My Dad was a lefty which is why I find the left arm references that have been occurring, mysterious...and interesting

The Donation took about 1.5 hours. Dracula sucked the blood out, and then they kept the platelets and then returned the rest of the blood back to my arm via a different tube.

When the procedure was finished and they removed the tube, I felt nauseous, but I blew the feeling off. I thought it was temporary.  When I first stood up, I felt the room start spinning, I got dizzy, and as I started to sit back down in the chair, i fell back into the chair. Guess I wasn’t as ready to stand up as I thought! An orange soda and bag of pretzels later, and I felt good enough to stand up again.

I imagine that feeling was what my Dad experienced when his blood sugar dropped,
I had never experienced it before.
Lesson Learned: Have a HUGE Lunch before donating next time.

It was my honor to do this, and I would do it again.
You can donate platelets again after 7 days, but I decided to re-donate in a month.
I’m already looking forward to my next already scheduled appointment!

To paraphrase Matt Damon in “Good Will Hunting,”
Let the saving begin!

Expanded Thankful Post

I started doing a Thankfulness challenge on Jan 1 to try and get me out of the funk I was in. This is an expanded version for today, Feb 11.

I am Thankful my Dad is only about 40 minutes drive away when I want or need to visit with him. 

I am also Thankful for inheriting my Dad’s sense of humor, and unfortunately, or fortunately, his sense of direction and his ability to get lost and turned around.

Driving up to the cemetery in North Phoenix, I decided not to use the GPS as we’ve gone enough, I thought I would remember where to turn and Plus, there are directional signs for the VA cemetery on the route.

My Dad, too, was famous (infamous) for not asking directions and being the typical Alpha Male who knew exactly how to go, even if he had never been there. He famously missed a turn that we never let him forget. His retort that became a legend and a running joke was “So I missed the fucking turn; it’s not the end of the fucking world.” And yes, he was very frustrated when he said it. He never cursed except for a very rare “oh shit” when it managed to slip out.

So, I became even moreso my Father’s son when I decided I knew better than the GPS. I missed the exit off the highway. OOPS!

It gets better. So then I put the cemetery into Google Maps, but on the road where you enter the cemetery grounds, I turned too soon onto a wrong alleyway. Foiled again!

When Google Maps screeched “you have arrived at your destination” We were actually outside another cemetery right next to the VA. Still wrong!

We just had to laugh.

Like Father, Like Son.

I was upset this morning and on the drive up. As we pulled into the cemetery, “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan started playing on the radio. Had I not missed the exit and made the wrong turns, we would not have heard that song. Another sign? 

Even though I was upset, after we were at Dad’s gravesite, I felt an unexplained peace and serenity that calmed me down some and stopped me from a full blown ugly cry. 

I thanked him for the signs he has provided us thus far, and so I am extremely thankful for the ones he decided to throw our way on the drive back home. 

Black Birds have been one of his telltale signs. When I stopped at QT for lunch, a black bird was next to the car. It remained still as I backed up, stared right at me and then flew away. 

Additionally, We passed a car with a NY Giants sticker, and then passed a 2nd NY Giants fan in their car as we entered Chandler on the 101.

Our original plan was to see a movie, but we missed the movie time, and decided to do the food shopping instead. Sometimes, things just occur the way they are meant to play out, so that you are exactly where the universe needs or wants you to be, to either help someone or be helped yourself.

My opinion, anyway. I had a lovely conversation with the cashier at Winco, and at Fry’s, I spotted the Oreo candy bars Dad liked that I also love (think chopped up Oreos covered in milk chocolate), marked down, so I replenished my supply. We went to a different grocery store than we normally do.

It was a pleasant surprise to find them in the checkout line we chose (or that was chosen for us!)

Thanks for everything, Dad.

I love you.

The Good Days and the Bad Days

I wrote this while struggling over the weekend, and decided to leave it intact, without editing.
Writing it out instead of keeping it in my brain, was helpful.

On the Bad Days:

You just can’t see a way out of your pain.
You wonder if it will ever get better, even though you know and have seen it get better before.
You don’t want to see anything or be seen.
Eating a meal is a necessity, a chore.
You hate your life and what life has dealt you.
If you are suffering from something medically, you don’t give a fuck if it gets better.
Nothing matters.
You are alone, you are inconsolable, and nothing anyone can say will make it better.
The only thing to make it better is to make things how they were.
Crying helps, and yet it doesn’t.
It is what it is.
Fuck this, Fuck that, Fuck it all, Fuck Everything.
The Ugly, Scrunching Up Your Face kind of cry.
Stop Changing everything!
Distractions are good.
Reliving the past, is not necessarily good.
Memories you hold close are all you have left, and can make you cry.
So can any song about loss, or that evokes emotion or a memory.

The Good Days:
You have acceptance that it is what is, and that you were put on this path for a reason.
You will change as a result, but you will become who you were meant to be all along.
You can find the collateral beauty.
You find a way to move forward to a different future.
You realize you need to fight against isolating on your Bad Days.
Because it doesn’t really help, it just makes you feel worse.
You can get chances or opportunities the past didn’t allow you.
You relax and give up control that you really aren’t in control.
Things DO get better, one minute, one hour, one day at a time.
Memories you  hold close can warm your heart and make you laugh.

Insight Into Another World

So for the past week or so, I feel like I am getting some major insight into what my Dad, as well as others struggling with cancer or other illnesses deal with.

Last Saturday, my Mom and I took a day trip to Las Vegas.

My feet were hurting – but we went. We didn’t want to disappoint my best friend and his Mom who we had lunch plans with.

So, off we went – and had a really good visit together.

I was sore when we got home, even though I only walked around 10,000 steps – more than I have recently, but, not an out of the ordinary number for me.

Sunday, I woke up and my left ankle was quite swollen, along with a good sized bump on the back of my heel.

Knowing my history with Gout and foot issues – I attributed this to the Gout Attack from hell.

After years without an attack, I had one recently on my right foot.

I figured this was my left foot playing catch up, and the bump was due to too much walking (overuse).

I iced and the swelling went down enough to enable me to walk, but the bump remained.

Thursday, the bump was still there, and my insurance covers something called “Doctor on Demand” where you can talk to a doctor on your phone or ipad.

They told me they suspected a possible Achilles tendon issue and I needed to get it checked out.

Friday, I called and made an appointment with the podiatrist for Monday morning.

Monday Morning came, I saw the doctor, showed him my foot to which he exclaimed “That Achilles is NOT happy!”

Xrays showed a patch of inflammation around the heel where my bump is.

He mentioned possible surgery and said the Achilles Tendon might be, torn, or ruptured.

I wasn’t sure how this was even possible – I had definitely NOT overdone activity – I barely worked out with the holiday funk I was in, and I was able to walk, and put pressure on my foot (as I walked)..as well, the pain and swelling seemed to decrease as each day went on.

So much for my  hope of draining fluid from this bump and going on with my life, after a few more days of pain.

He wanted more complete pictures than the xray showed, so with one fell swoop, I most likely met my deductible for the year and had an MRI done late Monday night.

Then, it became wait for the results.

Surgery?

Physical Therapy?  (or Physical Torture) as Dad always called it?

The waiting sucks!

It gave me a huge glimpse into what Dad and others must have, and continue to go through.

You stay strong for those immediately around you, but inside you are just melting and worrying and your brain is running on overdrive.

How are Mom and I are going to manage

But I’m the only driver in the family

What if I lose my job after being out of work for however long it takes

We will have to load up the fridge and both freezers before I go out

There goes the savings

We’ll have to take uber everywhere once I can get around

Until you can’t hold it in anymore, and then you let it out.

You try not to let it bother you, you try to stay strong because losing it really isn’t going to change anything, whether there is surgery or illness or pain in the cards.

It is what is – we can’t change it, we can only change how we react to it.

Somehow or another – it will get resolved, and I will end up getting my feet fixed.

One way or another.

Reading up on Achilles Tendon ruptures – for many people, it happens unexpectedly and through no fault of their own. I didn't fall, trip, knock my leg on anything -  there was no catastrophic event I could tie to what happened. The Doctor even said, it just happens over years of use on your legs.

As I always did with Dad when he was diagnosed with something new, I searched the internet for an herbal supplement to help with the inflammation because popping ibuprofen every 6 hours around the clock can’t go on forever. I found that Turmeric has antinflammatory properties and so I bought a bottle.

Being the consummate planner – I planned for surgery.

Talked to work as a heads up for now.

Starting gathering info as far as taking a medical leave, sick time, etc.

Tuesday (yesterday), now a week later – My Mom had an appointment at the same foot doctor’s office. He spotted me and said “I have your results.  Make an appointment with me”

The assertive side I’ve developed over the past few months came out – oh no, we’re not. I want to know – surgery or not?

So, I asked him if he was able to tell me if he was leaning towards surgery or not, but he said he needed to show me the images and discuss the options in person

(as opposed to over the phone).

I understood, and setup the appointment for the following day, and prayed.

I was thankful for work keeping me distracted for the most part. It makes me wonder, how often did my Dad use the computer and his work, to distract himself.  My appointment was at 1pm, and as the day inched closer to that appointment, the emotions began to hit.

I felt the butterflies, the pins and needles and most of all my anxiety rise. More of what what I imagine my Dad and what nearly everyone must go thru when they aren't sure what the results will be from a test. More of what my Dad must have felt as well, I'm sure, but for the most part never vocalized but kept inside - He stayed strong for my Mom, for me, for us all.
 

As I have done recently, when I have had enough of whatever is stressing me – I attempt to give up control and I pray to my Dad to help me and give me strength.

So I did just that.

We will see what happens at 1pm.

I saw the doctor, and although I was really worried - surgery is not in the plans at this time.
I relaxed so much, I could practically hear the angels and their harps, and "Hallelujah" playing on repeat in my head. I didn't care what kind of treatment I had to go through - as long as surgery wasn't involved. I was ecstatic.

I will be in a boot on my left foot for at least the next month. (To me, the saving grace is my left foot is the one involved, so I can still drive, get to work,etc) The issue is my ankles and heels are inflamed (that's where I have carried my pain for years is in my feet) because thats where I put all my pressure in feet, so the boot is to force me to put the pressure on the front part of the foot, taking the pressure off the heel and allow the inflammation and bump on my heel to relax.  I told the Doctor I certainly hadn't had anything to stress over in the past 6 months! Interestingly, the doctor also said he could see how I carry the stress in my legs and how tight the muscles were. Curiously, and I have written about this before:  I am severely right side dominant and yet these issues are on my left leg.  Guess who was a lefty?  (Not me).

Whatever happened last weekend, I think my foot just had had enough and let me know it. 

Time to get healthy.

Thoughts and Triggers

I haven't written something new on my blog since 4 days before my Dad died when I prophetically wrote:
“You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you.”

The  below post has been floating around my head for the past few weeks, but today is when the words came together in just the right way. Today, I faced my words.

I miss my Dad every bit as much as I thought I would and more.

I think of my life as “before” and “after” in terms of my father’s death.

I feel it is changing, has changed,  who I am and setting me on a new journey of my own

I’ve learned I can be and have become more assertive, I stick up for myself, I definitely take less shit and bullshit from others. I hold others accountable and don't just do their job for them anymore. Unprotected Left hand turns don't freak me out as much as they used to. I have given a speech publicly in front of a large group, and although I don't embrace the idea - I am more open to it than I would have been before. This list goes on and on. A friend commented that losing my Dad forced me to face and live my greatest fear, so everything else is little stuff compared to that.

If I have learned one thing over the past few months, its that dealing with a castrophic personal loss and managing, packing and a move at the same time is something I never EVER want to go through again. Thank god for the friends that helped me out with the initial big purge and packing, before the movers were involved.


There are songs that will just affect my emotions, act as a trigger, and make me cry.

Sometimes its a random song, without any significance or any personal connection or meaning to my Dad. Sometimes its even an artist he didn't particularly care for, like the Diana Ross song that made me burst into tears one morning on the way to work, which also made me laugh.

On an emotional day, a song will make me cry thinking and remembering my Dad.

On a more positive, retrospect day, I take hearing the song as a message from my Dad to help me out.

One example, the song "You'll Be in My Heart" by Phil Collins came on the radio recently:

You seem so strong
My arms will hold you,
Keep you safe and warm
This bond between us
Can't be broken
I will be here
Don't you cry

'Cause you'll be in my heart

 

Even though fire trucks and ambulances weren't routinely present through my Dad's struggles, Since he's been gone, seeing and hearing them causes me to trigger.  I shudder. I have the urge to panic, or retreat inside of myself. As best I can come up with, It's because I feel that someone's loved one is at risk and that hurts me emotionally. I hate the sound of the sirens.

Which leads me to my next point:

For as much pain as it sometime causes me, I've come to realize I have a superpower and my superpower is being an empath and the ability to feel things. Even though at times it's overwhelming and overcomes me, it is who I am and makes me a better more compassionate, person.

 

Holidays, Birthdays, and Celebrations are difficult, and so is seeing others go thru the same type of loss that I have experienced. Both are huge triggers for me. Death and loss may be a part of the cycle of the circle of life, but they just royally suck.

It becomes a fine line of trying to recreate the past, of what once was, when my Dad was still here, our old traditions, but also, creating new ones that are different from what you've always done, because no matter how hard you try, you just can't repeat the past sometimes. Like how my birthday cake has always been a cookie cake from Paradise (now Panera), this year they overcooked it so much they turned it into a hockey puck. It was inedible.  How disappointing. What a letdown.

But on that same token, you can create new memories to cherish and enjoy.
I ordered a Cookie Monster cake for my birthday from Safeway which we enjoyed.

We tried very hard to keep my emotions at bay on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day by having a movie marathon and seeing two movies on each day. Movies have been a wonderful escape. But no matter how hard you try, your thoughts, feelings and emotions are still there.

We historically have never had Christmas Eve plans, but this year we were invited and went to a friend's house for their Christmas Eve dinner, which was another great escape and new memory cherished. I was so glad we went, even though the tears ran down my face on the way over there, because I realized that there just is no "good" time for death to occur.  There will always be "something"  - another birthday, another holiday, another something..No matter how you prepare, as I attempted to do, you are still never fully ready when the inevitable occurs.

  

There are times I feel that I am the below, and times I feel that I am not.

But on the positive side, I am getting to spend some real, quality time with my Mom that just wasn't able to happen before.

I love my Dad and I miss him more than any words can express, but I love cooking dinner with and enjoying the meal together, at the dining room table, with my Mom. Going out to eat is extremely economical because for the most part we split one entree between the two of us.  We have gone on day trips - something else that also was hard to come by. I've dragged my Mom eating all over downtown San Francisco, and this past weekend we visited my friends (and hers), my best friend and his Mom, since the 4th Grade in 1983 in Las Vegas.

Today, while neither of us particularly felt like going out, We decided to go just to get out and get some air. It beats sitting at home dealing with my emotions. Recently, McDonalds in our area stopped serving Coke Zero. Going out to run errands with my parents, this was our thing - 1st stop is McDonalds for a couple of sodas and possibly some chicken nuggets. I hate change, although I eventually accept it (this entire blog is a case in point). But I realized today, I was mad at McDonalds, because they took away yet another thing that was a way of keeping my Dad with me. For the past few months, I too, would stop at McD's for a soda when the mood struck, and since I can't stand Diet Coke, well, it was another way to force me to deal with not having my Dad here. But in the end, as My Dad would have said, "Don't sweat the small shit, and it's all small shit."

It turns out Coke Zero is available at many other places - not just McDonalds
(I'm being sarcastic at how silly I am being - Clearly Coke Zero is available at many places besides McD's)

And as Mufasa tells Simba in this Youtube clip that I felt led to watch this morning...
Remember who you are  You have forgotten who you are. Look inside yourself. You must take your place in the circle of life.

Music From My Heart

I originally wrote this in February 2017, but never posted it. Not really sure why - I haven't touched the post since then, but I have never pushed the send button to post it either. For whatever reason, I just hung on to it. Re-reading what I wrote below, I feel I was giving my future self some more advice and coping mechanisms. What I wrote seems even more fitting now.
...
I am currently doing a 30 day gratefulness challenge, both on Instagram and Facebook, and the one on Instagram for today is "what song are you most grateful for"...Considering where I am at in life, and that gratefulness challenge for today - November 21 - It seemed like the right time to finally post and share this.
_________________________________________________________________________________
The date was September 23, 1988.

My Mom had dropped me off in the parking lot of our apartment on Abbington Drive.

The song playing in the car was "Stand By Me"

"When the night has come

And the night is dark

And the moon is the only light we'll see

No I won't be afraid

Oh, I won't be afraid

Just as long as you stand, stand by me"

But I was afraid. We had just left the hospital, and my Dad. I had heard the words that my Dad had cancer. As I entered the courtyard, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I started bawling Today, I can listen to the song without crying, but when I hear it, I associate it to that event, or to the movie "Stand By Me"  - one of my favorites.

Coincidentally, at the ceremony where Dad received his Sunbeam Award from the City of Chandler earlier this week, the song was played as well, which was quite comforting in spite of the memories it holds for me.

The following day, Friday, Feb 10, Dad wrote this:
28 years ago on this date, Feb 10, 1989 having completed 28 chemo treatments and 12 radiation treatments I was declared in remission from my first cancer, non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Today I will complete chemo treatment #275 for my second cancer, Myelodysplastic syndrome. It is time to celebrate.

It was a memorable week in many regards, but, I digress.

When I'm really struggling with something, I go old school and listen to "Ooh Ooh Child" by the Five Stairsteps because I find It helpful, but most of all, inspiring:

Ooh-oo child
Things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child
Things'll get brighter
Ooh-oo child
Things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child
Things'll get brighter
Some day, yeah

Another song I like during challenging times is "I'll Be There" by the Jackson Five which serves a similar purpose:

Just call my name and I'll be there
And oh, I'll be there to comfort you, 
I'll be your strength, I'll keep holding on

Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter
Togetherness, well that's all I'm after
Whenever you need me, I'll be there
I'll be there to protect you, 
Just call my name and I'll be there

Thinking about this post on the way to work this morning, "Cool Night" by Paul Davis played on the radio, and like the other songs in this post, it took me back to circa 1981 or 1982, when we were living in the hotel for a few months before our house in Toms River was built. I could practically see the outside of the hotel, remembering how cold the room was during the winter months - all because of a few chords in a song.

Jumping ahead to Fall of 1992, my first semester of college out of high school, away from NJ and in MD. "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprocket was not only played incessantly on the radio, but is instantly synonymous with that period of my life, and takes me back to the fond memories  of Towson State College, dining halls, the dorms, and watching St Elmo's Fire during Movie Nights and thinking that's what our lives would be like in the "Real World"...Not to mention beer becoming my drink of choice...

All I want is to feel this way

To be this close, to feel the same

All I want is to feel this way

The evening speaks, hear it say

1994 was a year of great celebration but also upheaval. Changes at my Dad's work. Leaving New Jersey for soon to be New Mexico for school.

As a parting NJ gift, my Mom took me to two concerts in New York City: 
Bette Midler at Radio City Music Hall and Barbra Joan at Madison Square Garden.

The two songs that really stick out from that performance:

"Not While I'm Around" which is a song Barbra wrote to her son which I've always loved.
During the performance, pictures of her and her son played on screen:
Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around
Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around
Demons are prowling everywhere nowadays
I'll send them howling, I don't care, I got ways

No one's gonna hurt you, no one's gonna dare
Others can desert you not to worry, whistle, I'll be there
Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while but in time
Nothing can harm you, not while I'm around


and "Somewhere," which was the finale song of the concert.
Things were incredibly up in the air and unknown at that time in our lives.
The song called out to both my Mother and myself..We both cried, but we both snuck looks at each other, trying to hide our tears, and then we both laughed.

Someday 
Somewhere 
We'll find a new way of living, 
We'll find a way of forgiving 
Somewhere
There's a place for us

I transferred to NMSU in Fall 1994 and stayed there for the rest of my college years, until I graduated. 

My Aunt, Uncle, and cousins lived in El Paso nearby from school, as did my Grandmother. I had a mix tape with "That's All I Ask of You" by Barbra Streisand, which I played on the drive back and forth and was pretty much perfectly timed for the 45 minute drive each way. To this day, when I hear the song it evokes memories of the dairy farms I would pass on the way.

My BFF in college and I loved to dance to Ace of Base in the clubs we frequented, so that's what Ace of Base songs mean to me, songs like "The Sign" and "Bautiful Life"

It's a beautiful life, oh oh oh oh
It's a beautiful life, oh oh oh oh
It's a beautiful life, oh oh oh oh
I just want to be here beside you
And stay until the break of dawn

And oh what a beautiful life it was!

I graduated in 1997 and started working in hotels. My first job out of school,
"Barbie Girl" by Aqua and "Criminal" by Fiona Apple were both popular at the time.

"I've done wrong and I want to suffer for my sins
I've come to you 'cause I need guidance to be true
And I just don't know where I can begin.
What I need is a good defense
'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal 
And I need to be redeemed"
(I would only truly understand these lyrics years later)

When I was hired by America West in 2000 and sent to Phoenix for training, "Coyote Ugly" was released and I remember seeing it in the theater with a few of my classmates.
Its no coincidence I like to visit the Coyote Ugly in Vegas so I can pretend and and feel young again!

When my parents and I make our semi-annual roadtrips to El Paso, our running joke is it's not an official roadtrip until we cue "Holiday Road" by Lindsey Buckingham (also the theme to the National Lampoon's Vacation series movies)

I found out long ago
It's a long way down the holiday road

7 Hours to El Paso and being held hostage with my Father's XM Radio Stations is indeed the definition of a long way down the holiday road!  But..the older I get, the more I appreciate the car trips as not only additional time to spend together with loved ones and make new memories, but as an escape for a few hours from normal life.


All through the years, I've associated certain songs with timeframes or events in my life, like I did above. I look to music to help, to inspire, to not feel alone, to share in my sadness, my misery, or for something uplifting when needed.

Perhaps the most intuitive of all is the lyric I have adopted as my motto since high school:
"This is the Time" by Billy Joel

This is the time to remember
Cause it will not last forever
These are the days
To hold on to
Cause we won't
Although we'll want to


Music ties my emotions not only to my heart, but to different events throughout my life.

Modifying a quote from Mr. Holland's Opus:
"These songs are my symphony.
These are the melodies and notes of my opus.
This is the music of my life"

The Human Shield

A few weeks ago, I had what I call, a nuclear meltdown. It's at the point where my stress level skyrockets well beyond my level of comfort, and I begin shutting down and not caring. I felt overworked, over stressed out, you name it. No time to breath or even think. I sulked all weekend long, and felt sorry for myself. I beat myself up for not managing my stress better, and not knowing how not to let stuff bother me that was outside of my control.

In talking to a friend, she mentioned that one of the lessons she had learned in becoming a manager was that if she continued to act as a shield for her employees, they would never have the chance to shine on their own. I realized, at work, this was exactly what I was doing. I have 2 colleagues that I am considered the lead for, and as the lead, I felt tremendous pressure and responsibility to "own" the big problems leaving the day to day to day for the others. I was shielding them.

But all this did was increase my own stress level and inhibit the others from truly growing. 

I made the decision that I just couldn't continue to own "everything" and I needed to retrain some who I had trained to come to me directly. I like having the answers, and being relied on. But, It was time to share the wealth, and yes, even share the pain with the others. I needed to stop owning ALL of the problems, because owning everyone's problems wasn't doing me any good.

So, work didn't get any less crazy, but once I put this into perspective and had a "come to Jesus" with myself over the next week - I found I wasn't as stressed because I was letting the control go. It was OK not to be in control. I calmed down and stopped obsessing.

I began applying the same concepts in my struggles with being the primary caregiver for my parents. I made a decision (again, because apparently it takes me forever to learn and re-learn) to start putting myself first. 

As an Empath, who is impacted and am susceptible to the feelings and emotions of those around me, I struggle with someone having a bad day. It can end up making my day a bad day. I give up, and give in, and sulk.  But, I made an ongoing decision that another person's bad day doesn't need to make mine a bad day too. I need to take care of myself, go out to the movies or with friends - anything where I put myself first instead of last after everyone and everything else.

Sunday night, I went to a special screening of "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" and it was the most fun I had had in a while. I laughed and enjoyed, and basically just escaped my stress for a couple of hours. It was a world of chocolate, and it did a world of good, even though it kept me up way past my bedtime.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks later. Dad had his surgery and although my schedule should have permitted me to leave work to take him to a follow up appointment the next day, I did something that has been very hard for me to do in the past: ASK FOR HELP when it comes to my parents.

I posted the below on Facebook:

I am going to do something I have trouble doing, and ask for help. Is there anyone local (East Valley area) that can help me in a big way tomorrow if I run into a problem? My Dad has a follow up with his eye surgeon tomorrow afternoon at 2pm in Glendale.

You would drive to his apartment in Chandler, then drive his car, with him, back and forth.
You would have to leave his place around 1245p, and should be back in Chandler around 330pm.

Within minutes, a couple of angels in our extended family provided me hope, and I felt like I exhaled. I was panicking at what I couldn't control. Would I be able leave work? How will I get Dad to the doctor? 

There are friends and family able and willing to help, but my way of thinking is, they are my parents and my responsibility, so why should I dump that on someone else. 
It was quite freeing to ask for help, to stop shielding my parents needs on others, the same way I had been doing stuff at work. 

I relaxed. My parents were well taken care of, in the hands of an angel, and I was able to focus on what I needed to at that moment.

In more ways that one, I need to stop being the protective shield, and allow others in.
I need to learn to share, and I need to learn to ask (more) for help.

My problems/issues/concerns over the past few weeks have remained the same, but my perspective is different. I am doing what I can to implement and live by this:

“You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you.”

I am a work in progress. My journey continues.