For those of you who are blessed with health insurance more often than not dental insurance isn’t ever an option or if it is the insurance company would pay for a cleaning or a routine annual checkup. Anything beyond that and it’s out of pocket. Depending on your economical status and the ability to pay those higher prices for the gold and silver packages of health insurance when millions of American go without each and everyday. Would it be so hard to pay a little in taxes if we could be reassured that we would be taken care of if we ever got ill?

The last 2 years have been a huge change for me when it comes to my attitude about money. I was always able to make enough money to live comfortably all my life until I got sick. If I wanted to go to the store and pick out a candle just because it smelled good I’d do it without thinking twice about it. These days I drink store brand soda and I jump at any chance someone says “free food” .. my luxury this last year has been buying books on my Kindle and now I’ve even stopped doing that and trying to find some good free ones online. There used to be a time in my life I would have items such as the new Kindle Tablet or iPhone 5 or iPad2 on pre-order (if they had that option) and sure, I couldn’t splurge on as many dinner’s out to eat but it usually all worked out. Now I have a pile where I have Brendan put the coupon value pack when we get it in the mail. From transitioning from the lifestyle of feeling financially secure to not knowing where your next meal will be has been one of hardest transitions I’ve ever had to make in my life.

I’ve just recently lost the last of my really good digital camera’s on my trip to Wisconsin and I had $100 of birthday money so I got myself a Flip phone. Right now I’m relying on my iPhone as being my only still motion camera and it’s just .. cumbersome. I know that I can’t go to the store and get a new one. I still haven’t been able to replace my Digital SLR since that live at the bottom of Glenmere Lake now and it’s been nearly two years since that’s happened. Taking pictures along with my many other hobbies has been art and photography. Not that I can’t afford my art supplies I don’t have my camera to turn to either. And I can’t just go to the store to pick up something new, not because it was the hottest thing on the market, but because I’ve never been in this position before. I even pawned my iBook after I came home from visiting Darci to get money due to unexpected bills. I’m hanging on by a thread and I losing those things that I used to be able to do that made me happy and I used to feel so inspired and creative.

I hate how much money is so woven into our society and into our lives. Those days of me getting the latest and greatest have been over for 2 years now. I’ve been giving it serious thought about doing a garage sale, it’s just the time and effort that would have to go into doing it. I have another avenue too that might be opening up that poked it’s widdle head over the horizon recently.

It wasn’t until I moved to Florida back in 2005 when I started finding confidence within myself, my decisions, and my life. I put all my time and energy into my job learning as much as I could as quickly as I could and when I found my husband I never once thought anything could stop my uphill climb. When I got sick, lost my best friend, job, husband, and house I not only took a major face plant, but I didn’t even try to get back up on my feet again. I waved my white flag in defeat believing that that was the end of me. I erased all the hopes and dreams I had once had and replaced those with negativity, self-pity, depression, and filled up the emptiness with what-if’s, and what-might-have-beens. I convinced myself that everything bad that’s ever happened to me was somehow my fault or that I deserved it and that my purpose in life was to be other people’s punching bags and doormats to wipe their muddy boots on. I ALLOWED myself to believe that not because it was true but because my hope meter was on empty and I didn’t know how to change that. I didn’t think that I had the power within me to try.

When I first moved back to Colorado I started writing, a LOT. I would fill a 5′ 9″ 400 page journal front and back every few months. I poured all the poison within me onto those pages letting my subconscious take over, taking the poison out of me and along with my art I slowly started to heal. I think I was on my 4th journal when I re-read that first journal and realized that I was at a different place in my mind and heart than I was when I first vomited up the bile through a pen onto page after page and realized that through words and through writing, I’ve always managed to keep some sort of balance in my life. It was the times I didn’t write when I would self-destruct and life got off kilter, no matter what the circumstance. I started reading old journals from high school, and from middle school all the way back to my very first journals that started in elementary school and through my own words I saw that I grew with each journal, and with each year, through each problem, with each heartache. I started reading my old poetry and saw my growth from the first one I’d ever written to the last one. Since all things happen for a reason, and they happen when they are supposed to, finding my biological family couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. It was the first time I felt I deserved to be happy.

With my newfound confidence that came from within I allowed myself to be happy, because I deserved to be. My glass when from being half empty to half full. Next thing I know, I’ve reconciled with my husband and even though he never really left my life or heart – he returned with a freshness that was new again and lovely. I learned acceptance, forgiveness, and the voids that were ever present the last 32 years of my life were full for the first time. I learned who I was, and allowed myself to love myself. I learned what unconditional truly meant and said goodbye to the haunting ghosts of the past so I could focus on the rainbows of tomorrow. I’ve also learned to listen better to life’s whispers instead of waiting for life to smack me across the head with a fry pan to get my attention. With that, I’ve learned to trust my heart.

Sure, I still have bad days and the occasional moments when I feel sorry for myself but as each day those times grow less and less and my focus is on what really matters. There has always been people in my life who have believed in me, but I don’t really think a person can accept that until they find that belief within themselves. So what holds me back these days? Only I can hold me back and with that knowledge I become a little more free. My focus now is completing that word free, and turning it into free-DOM and I know I’ll get there, someday.

The last few weeks my asthma has been giving me fits. Colorado has been quite hazy lately due to the Arizona wild fires and because 2 + 2 = 4 it was a no brainer why I’d been having difficulty breathing. There were several times last week that I “almost” went to urgent care when my O2 levels started dipping down between 90-93. A few years ago when I still lived in Georgia I purchased my own pulse oxygenation gadget (if you’ve ever been in the ER or the hospital, it’s that little thing they put on your finger to monitor your pulse and the oxygen levels in your blood system) from CVS, recommended by my pulmonary doctor after my last asthma attack that landed me in the hospital for a few days and later on home oxygen for a month. Normal is between 93-100%.

Last wednesday my breathing was extremely labored to the point my ribs hurt and the pain was radiating to my back because I was having to consciously breath. I had been doing breathing treatments for a week and using my fast acting inhaler (ProAir) but neither were working. I texted my oxygen levels throughout the day and my numbers kept going down from 93%, to 90%, to 88% and I reluctantly made the decision to go to the ER once I got down to 86% when I started to feel faintish. I knew what would happen before I left since I’ve been hospitalized 3 times previously for this very same occurrence and brought my kindle with me expecting to sit in the ER for a few hours. I was pretty pale by this point and Momma K told me my lips looked white. WHen I got there I got yet another breathing treatment, they took down my history and decided to put me on 2.5 liters of oxygen. Once my oxygen deprived body got some oxygen I almost immediately felt better and the color started to return to my face. When they took the oxygen away an hour later I had dropped down to 85% in less than 30 seconds so they made the decision to admit me to the hospital because I was so hypoxic.

Out of the 4 times I’ve been in the hospital for my asthma, this last time was the most pleasurable. All the nurses were so nice and helpful, and most of all … sincere. When a person is so sick to where they need to be in the hospital the positive and kind energy of the staff makes all the difference between wanting to get well and staying hopeful or being at the other end of the spectrum of hopelessness and depression. With all my medical problems in the last 4 years there hasn’t been one single person as dedicated to helping me as my two nurses on duty, Rhonda & Shane. I’ve gotten so used to being let down, or not finding answers, or having the knowledge that I wasn’t important or worthy enough to invoke concern in both the people around me and especially medical professionals. It’s something I’ve been struggling with for years. More people have disappeared from my life once I got sick than any other time in my whole life and I didn’t fully understand why until earlier this year. With the exception of one person, my Aunt Martha, no one has experienced what I’ve experienced and struggled with so how could they possibly understand the change in me spending so much energy in trying to hide invisible yet very real pain (at least with my Chronic Fatigue and Fibro). I think it’s easier for a person to put distance between themselves and something they don’t understand out of fear. Often there is a lot of misunderstanding and frustration and I know and understand that. I’ve accepted that. I almost EXPECT that. It was a nice surprise to be treated like a real person those two days in the hospital instead of some disabled invalid. The disease is in my body, not my mind and it’s easy for people to pass judgement. I think that’s why I don’t talk much about my health anymore and it’s a big reason why dropped off the face of the earth. It’s hard to be dependent when I’ve been overly independent my whole life. The limitations have taken a huge toll on my self worth but I’m not anywhere near accepting defeat.

So I’m on home oxygen for the next 3-4 weeks tethered to a 50 foot tube connected to my oxygen concentrator. It’s almost like being on house arrest. Thank the universe for my kindle and the internet or I’d go nuts with cabin fever.

Father’s Day was another hard day. My sister was there for me (thank you sis for being sensitive about it and for “getting” it, you know what I’m talking about). I’m on the mend. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and even more worrying with trying to get Brendan moved here. I’m tired and exhausted, but I have my moments of motivation and today was one of those moments. I’m at the stage where I’m doing a lot of soul seeking, listening to my heart as much as possible even when I disagree with what it’s telling me and there are many things left to figure out, but I’m making a dent in that area of my life and will continue to do so. I even made an appointment down at the social security office to apply for disability. Part of me has put it off because it feels like I’ve given up. Only recently I’ve realized that I haven’t given up, my heart hasn’t, my body might think differently. I hate labels and I don’t want to be labeled as a “disabled” person. I don’t see myself that way even tho many others do. It only makes me want to fight harder so I can one day feel accomplishment and be proud of myself again. I’ve been grieving my old life before I got sick and I know it will never be the same as it used to be. Attitude makes all the difference so I try in every situation to see the good, to learn the lesson and to learn from my mistakes. I do believe that I can find fulfillment again, I just have a few more hurdles yet to jump over …

I’m a caged bird right now and I want nothing less than to fly free.

I was anxious that my adopted Mother would feel threatened. All those fears went away when Mom told me she was excited and she’s looking forward to the new extended family we will be gaining.

I didn’t sleep a wink last night. My mind was running a million miles a second. Still is, it feels so surreal. I will write an update tonight about my life changing day.

The one person I have control over is me. I’ve learned some pretty hard lessons this last year I’m surprised I made it out with my sanity. I’m going to let go of the last horrible rotten year and leave it in the past. I will carry with me those lessons learned. They are the only stow aways that are permitted to come with me into 2011.

I will do everything in my power to kick myself. I’m going to kick my ass out of the pity parties that have been coming around more and more it seems. I’m going to get myself out from underneath this cloud of negativity. I’m not going to be afraid to fail – because i will from time to time and I can grow from it – at least I would have tried.

My first leap into making this the year of Yolospat has to do with my better half. My best friend and soulmate. My ex-husband. I know I know, you’re all thinking, “You’re best friends with your ex-husband?!” Well, we are a rare breed I suppose. In fact, we have better communication skills now with each other than when we were married. I would have not made it through this last year without him. It’s been a year and almost 4 months since I saw him last so this month I’m going to fly out to Georgia to see him. We are both excited, and it gives us something to look forward to. We never got to say goodbye when we made – in my opinion – too rash of a decision. Growth and good changes between us have happened, and also individually that couldn’t have happened had we still been together. Brendan is what smiles are made of, and I can’t wait to see him. We have agreed that I would bring his xmas box with me instead of shipping it so that we can open his presents together.

I have a few projects lined up for this next year. I will be focusing on my writing this year. This includes my blogs, articles, journaling, poetry, freelancing, short stories and a novel I’m working on at the moment. I’m also going to be focusing on my artwork and bring my portfolio into existence. I’m going to try and volunteer at the humane society. I also have house projects lined up, like painting a few rooms, my fence and my deck. I need to put the art studio back together too. I think I might bring the studio inside and put it int he basement for the winter so I won’t have to worry about heating the garage (which is detached from the home).

I have to remember to pace myself. Living with Fibromyalgia is a very tricky balancing act. If I have a good day and I use up more energy than I should have I’ll be in bed for the next 2 days exhausted. I have to remember that I can only do so much and the better I pace myself the greater my “good days” will be. I also want to talk about Fibromyalgia this year in detail to spread the word and to debunk the myths. I’ve talked about it briefly from time to time but it’s a very hard medical condition to understand. I want to help people understand, so anyone has questions please feel free to ask.

My Writer’s Market book came in the mail yesterday. It’s what every writer needs in reference to publishing, agents, writing idea’s, tips and tricks. You name it, it’s got it. It also has the updated 2011 list of all agents and houses, including what they specialize in and what they are looking for. I also got the Short Story Writer’s Market book too.

I hope everyone makes this year a better year. I know I am.

There is also that one moment, that one remembrance where hope peeks out, although much smaller in size, waving telling me it’s still here. To hold on. It’s not time yet. And right around the corner it happened. I gave hope one last chance, and hope came through in a big way. My hope grew a size or two that day. When I woke up this morning, it had grown once again. Today, I smiled.

I’ve been gearing up for NaNoWriMo!! NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month where one has to write 50,000 words of their novel from November 1st through November 30’s. This will be my first year doing it. I’m excited. You can follow my progress at My NaNoWriMo page. I’m writing a lot of short stories this month, and practicing on some writing prompts I have been collecting over the last year since I missed it last year.

Speaking of missing NaNoWriMo last year, sigh. This is the month of October and in 4 more days will be the anniversary of the day I got married. It’s almost going to be a year since I’ve seen my husband ex-husband. It doesn’t feel possible, it feels like a decade. And the worst part about it is through all the hustle and bustle of getting packed and moved, we never got to say goodbye to each other. The other worst part is that I don’t know when I will see him again. I miss him more than any word I can think of in the English language. Its emotional agony, only worse. I lost my soul-mate and my best friend all at the same time. Adjusting to being a single female living by myself is an adjustment I keep fighting subconsciously. I feel scared much of the time, especially at nights knowing he’s not here makes everything seem empty, but through my art, writing, reading, crocheting, and now knitting, I’m trying to keep myself as busy as possible. I’m so grateful for our telephone calls nearly every night, and I’m thankful we keep in constant communication and we’ve both grown from this experience, and he will always be my soul-mate no matter what happens in the future. The distance is so hard though, just so hard. When incidents happen like they did with “Lance” a week ago it makes me wish I were still in Georgia.

Jonah is a lot better. His face is healing at a remarkable speed. The scabs are starting to fall off and new skin is fresh and pink underneath. My friend David got a new puppy. A miniature Chihuahua named taco. I was scared at first that taco and Molly would butt heads for dominance but it was amazing how fast she took to him. This is the first time she’s meeting a dog smaller than her, it was so cute. David made a funny joke. He said if Molly and Taco had puppies, they would have tamales. Hehe. Pictures coming soon of Taco. I’m also building a computer for David that he can use now that he’s gone back to school and kicking ass with his grades.

I’ve been using my iPad a lot for writing out my short stories and my writing exercises. For some reason I’ve gotten a talent for tying on it. It actually makes me write even more than I do already. I found a program on the iPad called Manuscript that connects to DropBox so I work on it no matter where I am.

Earlier tonight I was drawing and I kept hearing Jonah’s dog tags jingling over and over in the family room. I went to check on him and a 2 inch by 3 inch area of skin was hanging like a flap where his cheek used to be, and raw bloody muscle was left. I couldn’t tell you all the thoughts running through my head as to what caused this to happen but I didn’t have time to investigate. I grabbed my keys, then grabbed Jonah and rushed him to the front seat of the car. Somewhere between where I picked him up in the house to the front door the skin flap fell off, which I found when I got home.

I called Jonah’s vet and the after hours message said to go to the emergency vet hospital on 23rd by Bank of Choice. I didn’t even look to see if I parked between the lines, grabbed Jonah and rushed him inside. Luckily they were able to pull up his vet records since my vets office is their sister shop and took us right back to an exam room. 

The vet tech was super personable and Jonah warmed right up to her considering the circumstances. She explained to me that he had some sort of allergy to something which caused a bad rash on his skin under his fur. Because his ears cover that area and because that area is in a damp hot spot it made it the perfect breeding ground for bacteria to grow. Since the rash was so bad it only took one scratch from Jonah to pull all the skin off where the rash was to leave this open gaping wound. They had to shave off all the hair on the right side of his face to see how var the rash spread (about twice the size of the raw part) and sprayed a topical steroid spray on it after cleaning it up. I’m supposed to spray that topical spray right on the raw part every 6 hours for 2 weeks. The vet tech said at first it burns a little but to rub his ears right after so he forgets the pain sooner. He’s also on antibiotics and pain meds. 

The poor guy just doesn’t know what to do with the cone collar. He will just stand there and not move. He’ll get used to it eventually, but I feel so bad for him. He is uncomfortable and it’s written all over his face. I’m going to sleep downstairs on the couch so I don’t have to carry him up and down the stairs. I’m not sure how I picked him up so many time when I rushed him to the hospital due to the weakness from Fibro. I’m sure it was the adrenaline from the initial shock. 

So I have him home now and he is snoozing on the rug. The pain meeds mush have just kicked in. The open wound can’t be covered so it heals from the sides to the middle. It has to be so painful, I just feel so bad for him. 

I was worried at first if it was something I either did or didn’t do or I didn’t pay close enough attention to but the vet reassured me that there was nothing I could do to prevent what happened. She also said she could tell Jonah was very loved. When I asked her what she meant she Sid that when she did his physical exam she was guessing he was between 2-3 years old before she looked at his records and saw he was 6 years old and that’s the sign of a very loved very happy dog. That made me feel good. I’ve never questioned if I were a good furbaby Mom, but it’s nice to actually hear that sometimes. Continue reading to see pictures of Jonah’s wound.

Jonah's cheek where the skin fell off

Jonah looks so sad in his cone collar

There are a select few people in my life that are exempt from the “drop by without an invitation” rule, and Lance is not one on that list especially since he has never been to my house. I haven’t even seen him for over 6 years.

So when I find out he’s coming over I get back out of bed and change again from my nighty to a pair of sweat pants and sweatshirt. Lance finally shows up and kisses the back of my neck after giving me a hug. Red flags, bright hot pink flags, all the internal flags our intuition makes was waving frantically inside yet was hoping that it was a one time occurrence.

So Lance sits down on the love seat and takes his shoes off and pulls up his shirt and starts rubbing his chest while he is talking. My flags started waving frantically again. I knew I had to get him out of my house as soon as possible. I stood up and grabbed the keyless remote for my ADT security system for my house and put it around my wrist since there is a button on there that when pressed is a silent alarm to the police station. My thumb hovered over the top of that button the entire time.

I picked up a piece of drawing paper and started drawing waiting for him to wrap up whatever he was saying and told him that my headache was getting worse and I needed to go to bed. To my surprise he gets up and walks upstairs and disappears in my bedroom. Great. That was the last thing I expected him to do. I go outside to smoke in hopes he would get the hint but after the 3rd cigarette he still hadn’t come back downstairs. I call up again and tell him for the second time I really needed to go to sleep and he tells me from my bedroom to come upstairs. In my most stern voice I say, “ALONE.”

He walks out my bedroom door putting his shirt back on and holds up his hands and tells me ok, your the boss. Through the whole conversation throughout the night he kept making these crude sexual remarks that was totally inappropriate. He finally left and I locked every door and window in my house and turned on the house alarm. I was so digested and frightened I didn’t end up sleeping at all that night. Every sound that the house made put me on full guard and I’ve been jumpy ever since.

What really makes me angry and mad is this was supposed to be a friend, and he totally ruined it the friendship with what he did because all trust I had for him is gone. What makes me even more upset is he was my link to the local art community. Well, I don’t need him to become involved. I can do it on my own. Same way I’ve always done things.