Wounds that heal

In case I forget how far I have come...

This is from when i was well enough to have asked for my BlackBerry and to have remembered how to use it...

These were in October 2010. The bleeding stopped about a week ago (April 2011).

I still have massive scars in my hair - sometimes I wish they weren't so well hidden. I wish they were across my face so that people couldn't forget that I am recovering from a brain hemorrhage and a very immense brain surgery. But I know that it's a blessing not to be left with that too (but imagine having high expectations of a person in a wheelchair... we might change our expectations then I think).

Since then I have had one experience they call a TIA (Transient Ischemic Attack) which is likely a clot passing and briefly stopping in a vein/artery in the brain. It lasted about an hour with only a couple of the famous five warning signs (I had trouble speaking and understanding). It was scary but it passed - this was late Feb.

I have tried not to talk about it and not to dwell on it but it's part of who I am so I am sharing that with you.

If you are wondering about why I never call you - please don't forget that I am disabled (particularly with regard to sound and with visual stimulation).

I guess the choices are to love me anyway and be quiet or to be insulted and leave.

Either way I understand and I will still love you.

Be well,

Jen

P.S. This entry was called "wounds that heal" because there are some that never entirely heal.

The child inside us all

If I think back to the child I used to be... and if I am really honest... she is not that far gone.

As a child I liked to laugh, liked to play, liked to learn, liked to create, I liked to entertain others with humour or wit or performance... I liked to hug and be hugged, I liked to cuddle. I wasn't perfect then (my parents might try to tell you I was - sometimes I wish that was true...) and I am still not perfect - far from it.

All of those things are still true except now I have to pay a mortgage or fill out an(other) insurance form or take a mountain of meds, or sign permission slips.

But the child in me is the part most charmed by my sons. They are fun to play with and they are a total pain when they fight with us - then we have to put on grown-up pants and get serious! And so this morning we had to ground our eldest to his room and (being just like every generation in his family tree) he is stubborn.

Silence was the weapon he eventually resorted to.

But here was his method of communicating (this slipped out under his door for any passer by I guess...)

I remember when I was stuck in my room to clean up - I think I was 3. My Dad was going out to work but I wanted his attention. So I remember making a ringing noise (I had a small play phone in my room) and calling down the stairs to him that the phone was ringing. He had his briefcase and was tying his shoes. He asked me to please answer it - thinking that he had outsmarted me... I ran over to the phone and shouted "Hello? ... Just a second... DADDY? It's for YOU!"

I ran to the top of the stairs just in time to see him slouch over his tied shoes and shake his head, slowly putting down his briefcase and up he came.

There are reasons that these things happen. Maybe his hug really was magic, or maybe his new timing helped him miss a traffic accident, or maybe - just maybe - the fact that he and his 37-year-old daughter still smile at that memory is reason enough to come take the call.

Be well.

Jen

... oh and for the record, I did need him, so I did knock on the foot of his bed.

From the voice of a child

Yesterday, my grade three son came home from school and shared with me a plastic Easter egg. Inside he produced several symbolic objects with a story book that explained where they come from and why.

Because a picture really is 1000 words, here is what he and I scanned and labeled to share with you.

As we prepare for the long Easter weekend, we wish you a wonderful holiday with your loved ones and traditions.

Be well.

Jen

The Art of Focus

Spent some time yesterday chatting in text with a friend of mine. We were talking about the ... hmmm ... art / talent / tactic / opportunity of being distracted.

Some might say it's a mental illness - not being able to focus.
Some might say it's a tactic to procrastinate.
Some might say it's a talent to appear blameless in terms of failure to complete work but...

I think that distraction is a gift.

(hears... "what?" "come on!" "as if....!")

Yes, I think it's a gift - I think that often in life the things we set out to do are not the important things to do afterall.

We create a to do list as long as our arm... and even more.

We chase a goal... the carrot on a line that is towed before us (just out of reach, by the way)

We run and run and run and run

Then, all of a sudden, if we are lucky enough, there is a butterfly... oooooh.... it's so pretty, look at the wings, look at the antennae, look at the way it flutters and then [insert screech-to-a-halt sound effect] somewhere (or by someone) we are reminder of the task we had been sent out to do.

But here is a scenario.

The focused person is outside trying to complete some yard work. It is yard work collection week. It's important. So this person is congratulated for getting the job done as quickly as possible.

The distracted person, lacking focus, is inclined to also try and clean the garage in an effort to find the rake; is inclined to say hello to a stranger who passes by. But what is important in this chaos of moments? The "unfocused" person made a new friend, found an old pair of mittens and also recovered the rake at long last... ya, the garden still needs work but now there is a new person in their life.

Maybe the distracted person will make a positive change in the stranger's life or maybe the stranger's path makes them an important person to know (even it will take decades for that to be known).

In case you are wondering, the next time you are out running errands try to squint your eyes, unfocus your vision, and see what really becomes important in that moment. Wait and see who you will see when you are lacking focus. ;)

Be well.

Jen

I am...

...alive (when I may have died in other eras)
...brave (when I least expect it)
...quiet (when the words fail me - or are not words I want tied to me)
...inspired (by sunshine and a warm breeze)
...proud (of my sons and my family)
...sorry (for my new prioritization of me before most others)
...learning (how to be the receiver and not the giver)
...strong (to say no, if it is what is best)
...silly (when I feel like laughing over nothing at all)
...loving (for those around me who deserve so much of my affection)
...grumpy (when I am not able to keep up)
...creative (when I have space to dream)
...amazed (when I consider how far I have come)
...numb (when I consider the road ahead)
...hopeful (when the sun comes up the next day)

Be well,

Jen