It's been some time since I last blogged. I'll enlighten about why in a future blog. But for now, I wish to announce, I'm fifty today! I made it. My son turned 21 on yesterday. He's been my biggest and my best birthday gift since his celebrated birth 21 years ago. And what a milestone for us both. I'm healthy, for the most part. I'm happy, for the greatest part.

You never know what another person is going through. This explains why it’s best to reserve judgement. To have compassion  when someone’s disposition may not  represent  the way you think it should.

During a routine swim day, a fellow regular swimmer asked if she could share the lane with me. “Of course”, I replied. I was surprised she spoke. Usually she's very quiet and reserved. Though there's a language barrier, whenever we see each other, we acknowledge the other with a nod or a  friendly “good morning”.

I proceeded to swim. And so did she. Eventually she stopped.  Inquired why I didn’t swim in the other faster lanes (as if she was suggesting I move from where I was before she arrived). I told her - I was fine where I was, but thank you. She went on to explain that she noticed that I was a fast swimmer. Said she’s very slow.

I assured her that she’s fine. She’s not inconveniencing my swim at all. I'm very slow too. The flippers I wear may make it appear as if I were a faster swimmer.

She went on to share, she has lung cancer. She only comes to this particular facility on this day to swim. She rarely feels well but feels better in the water. 

I told her, “me too! I feel better in the water. I need a kidney (this is why I prefer to swim in the slow lanes)".

The startled look suggested  she had difficulty comprehending what I had just said. I went on to show her my fistula arm. “See, this is the source in which I get my dialysis. My kidneys no longer function as they should”.

Obviously stunned  to discover what I'm enduring as I was stunned with what she’s enduring we just kinda stood there looking at each other awkwardly. I know, usually it takes awhile for this kinda news to sink in when you hear it. 

Now, this is an attractive woman- Looked younger than she was for her age. Fit and focused. Never would I imagine she had some sort of debilitating ailment. And I suppose, she had similar or same perception of me. 

That day, we both learned we are not much different after all. We both preferred the convenience of the "slow lane". We both had health challenges, yet we both were determined to be and feel well, even if it was for the minutes we spend in the water.

There was  a perplexed feeling as  to why this illness was bestowed on her. After all, she lives a healthy lifestyle.  I totally understood, yet in my mind, I've resolved - awful things can also happen to people who may do all the supposedly right things.  Somehow, we all must accept our fate and do the best we can to continue on living a quality lifestyle nonetheless. 

She  sees such young women in the medical office  receiving  cancer treatments.  Immediately I thought about how I feel on occasion – surrounded by so many sickly looking people – quietly wondering to myself if I look as ill as they do.  Quietly hoping my condition does not worsen.  I can easily get locked in fears, worries and concerns.   

Regardless, it has been my mission to remain active and optimistic.  Proceeding to do positive and productive things protects me from a dangerously idle mind. Be an example to my kids (and/or whomever else is observing my existence) on how to overcome obstacles, how to persevere. Win, in my own way against the odds.  And here this stranger (who has now become a friend) – being an example to me.  

  

  

Help! I'm addicted to cornstarch.

Since my initial hospitalization back in 2014, I've been consuming what started out as -- hospital baby powder (would put it on my body then later sprinkle some in my hand and eat it), now to cornstarch.

The cornstarch started when one of my dear in-home therapist were helping me find something edible to eat in place of the baby powder. Tried a few things... I then tried the cornstarch and liked it. Been eating it ever since.

Turns out, I was anemic back then. But as of now, I'm not, I don't think. Yet, I still crave the cornstarch. And most of the time, it's in place of actual food.

I recently discovered that cornstarch is high in phosphorous. Unfortunately my phosphorous levels have been dangerously high for months now. Every month, my blood is drawn to check levels on various things needed for a dialysis patient.

When the results are hand delivered, I'm quietly nervous. If I'm awake when dietitian is hand delivering patients results, my body feels some kinda way. It's like when you're a kid getting your grade on that difficult math exam. Only now, it's more life threatening.

Though this newest finding has been brought to my attention, admittedly. I haven't discontinued my cornstarch consumption. Days ago I started trying to eat Pixie Stix - which are a powdery, sugary type of candy treat. But... this too hasn't quenched my desire for cornstarch.

One thing I did notice days ago was. I tend to crave the cornstarch when I'm feeling anxious. And lately I've been misfortune[d] unpleasant but necessary dealings with my vicious aging mother (who is not my favorite person due to her continued abuse (yes, an adult still can feel negative effects of the constant abuse from an abusive parent).

Everyone in her chosen environment is seeing that she needs help desperately. But sadly, she is refusing any help. Especially from me (a trustworthy child). Totally being stubbornly unreasonable and insanely illogical. I'm her only child. So therefore ALL the expectations fall on me (even though I can barely take care of myself). Sigh. This saga is constantly on my mind. And I can feel my body and mind slowly declining because of it. And I resist because she is not worth me losing myself over.

Anyway, I won't bore you with this depressing drama. However, I need to figure out something. Fast. I've been obediently staying clear of cheeses (which is one of my usual craved forbidden foods) due to the elevated phosphorous. And now, I have one more thing to battle - which I'm very reluctant to give up. I know I must. Soon. Somehow. Someway...

... rid myself of the cornstarch completely.

Anyone else have an unhealthy addiction? Is it cornstarch by any chance? if so, how do you limit the constant cravings?

months ago, i lost character.

it was in the pool. i had been swimming several successful laps. in the slow lane -- shared with another slow swimmer. early morning swim - 5:00 am to be precise. when all of a sudden.

without my awareness, apparently this woman gets in from the opposite end of the pool. he and i had already been occupying this space. there were several other lanes available to her. yet, she proceeded to enter. no warning to us current swimmers.

eventually we collided. my rhythm was interrupted. mind you, i'd already been swimming for almost a year by this time [over a year now]. admittedly, my ego was kinda elevated at that moment in time (which is a rare occurrence to be honest). there was little to no humility or compassion or patience or tolerance  or anything representing who i really am. immediately i was ah, frustrated.

i gently explained to her where best to enter for her and other swimmers safety. by this time, the lifeguard noticed and came near (more on this lifeguard later in this piece). by that time, i had gained control of my emotions. the woman didn't seem to speak English which seem to have frustrated me even more. i couldn't effectively communicate with her -- well, at least i assumed.

fast forward to recently. more like the past few weeks. over the months i have regained my true self. tolerance, patience, compassion, humility. i see the same woman entering pool from wrong side of pool and i immediately make space for her. if there is three, we can swim peacefully in a circle.

over the past swims, i've took it upon myself to offer assistance. teach what little i've learned about swimming. with same lifeguard looking (and i'm sure listening). the woman is receptive.

from a swimmer who holds on to the rail and spits ever other stroke, to now utilizing a kick board.
securely and confidently kicking and blowing bubbles as i suggested. each swim i show her something new as she improves.

it has given me so much joy to see this woman whom i was for a fraction of a minute irritated by, successfully getting up and down the lanes smoothly.  she's so happy and so am i. English is still challenged but somehow i've been able to communicate information that was useful to her and remarkably make it comprehensible. and we both are getting something from the swim experience we may have never knew we needed.

one never know what kind of relationship or experience they may be fortunate to build or create.

admitted into the hospital. rushed via ambulance straight from dialysis.

intense chest pains, difficulty breathing, plus usual discomforts i've been experiencing lately at the end of my treatments. oxygen immediately given. chest pain wasn't relieved from nitro administered. then again when paramedics arrived. scary ordeal. surrounded by concerned professionals -- tech, nurses, paramedics; my husband. all i could think of at the time, aside from the discomfort from all the instant attention was,

"oh, no! am i dying? how much is all this going to cost? is this pain all in my head? darn, i'm wearing a head scarf. good thing i painted my toenails night prior. will i be able to swim tomorrow?".

i'm still here. thankful to be alone in a single room. receiving quality care. and most importantly, feeling much better now. still alive and well. with more opportunities to live, laugh and love.

surrounded by my knitting, library books, coloring books/crayons. my laptop and my phone. i have function of my mind and my body, which i'm immensely grateful. my husband is home with our 13 year old. they both are well. my son is well while in college. these truths give me peace of mind.

really fortunate i do have insurance still and haven't had to suffer the reality of not having the privilege (the human right) to it. the depressing accumulating healthcare bills, well. that's another story. one which others can possibly relate to now or perhaps in their future.

to my benefit, several test were ran in ER -- chest X-ray, CT scan w/contrast. once i was finally admitted (keep in mind i get dialysis at 4 am. i woke mid-treatment at 7 am feeling unwell. paramedics called by 8 am. arrived in ER by 9 am)

by the time i was comfortably in ER receiving more pain relief, i was exhausted. was famished.

while admitted, i've had a few more test done. had a nuclear stress test, had an EKG. currently waiting to get dialysis again (even though i had treatment yesterday - contrast from CT scan test has to be removed from my system).

last time something like this happened years ago,  i was rushed to ER via ambulance from dialysis, it was discovered i have a heart aneurysm. since then, i have been monitored closely by a cardiac physician.

luckily, i have the best doctors, the best care, the best support ever. quality, this fact makes what i'm enduring more endurable.

My dear daughter (13) claims she's going to stop bathing. If she's not as fresh, the Witches won't seek her out, like they did in a book by one of her favorite authors, Roald Dahl.

Her logic, the dirt will clog her pores thus disguising her kid-scent. Apparently Witches were looking for prepubescent children. Since she could talk, there's been some sort of protest in her battle with her dad and I over basic hygiene practices.

She's a girl who pretty much functions like a stereotypical boy. Loves sports, physical play, active all day long until she passes out by the end of the day. As a result, she develops her share of dirt which she prefers to clog her pores to disguise her kid-scent, I guess.

Regardless of what she says, what she reads. We will continue to vigilantly parent her. No matter how exhausting. Making sure she develops and maintains healthy habits.

my daughter had a soccer tournament over the weekend. last one for the season, thankfully. Saturday 2 games (immediately following 4 am dialysis) and Sunday 2 games. location over an hour away. this time, we somehow managed to afford the privilege to stay in a hotel.

this hotel stay was the first time we've stayed away from home since 2000, the year our daughter died ( i tend to keep track of time in terms of the year she died and the year 2014, when i almost died. not to sound too morbid or melancholy, it just is. and i'm okay with it). but anyways...

this experience was thoroughly enjoyed and thoroughly needed. though the team struggled for wins (as usual, sigh), the point was for my daughter to do her best (which she did) and to have fun (which she also did). and all while, daddy and i had the luxury to drive back to a nearby hotel (we stayed at a Residence Inn Marriott) which turned out to be an awesome getaway and the best idea we've had all year long.

it was like a home away from home. full kitchen and amenities. unlike being at home, in our cluttered, dusty/dated apartment we had the advantages of: air condition. space. cleanliness (at least without a blue light).  frig w/food we'd purchased. a tv. and most importantly, we had each other w/our yarn, books, board/card games and laptops.

so the plan is. to try to get away more often. live more fully. yes, having to commit to dialysis treatments three times per week puts a strain on things, but travel is doable. all i have to do is, if need be, find another clinic in the area i'm visiting. yes having more financial stability would make this easier with only one income [i'm not on disability, long story], but we may be able to take smaller, mostly local trips more often. because during that weekend excursion, we quickly learned, we all need a break from it all. we need a stress-free, leisurely getaway.

I finally completed this cable knit slouch hat I've been laboring on for what seems like an eternity. I've been knitting for years now, but when I had the stroke, I had to relearn - everything, thus pretty much start from scratch.

Luckily I frequent several local knitting groups. They are everywhere. Just google to find one in your area. Usually free and full of fellow knitters and crocheters who are at various levels in skill. Often many will share what they know and vice versa, you can share what you know.

These groups are a treasure. You don't have to join, just show up. Which is great, considering I'm not a joiner.

My whole family knits and crochets. Husband and son too.  My daughter is really talented with yarn. Impressively, she often assists others, who are mostly her elder in some complicated technique. I'm amazed at her abilities.

And my husband, just last night. I was begging him to come to bed. Having been in bed since that mornings dialysis I grew impatient close to midnight as I still awaited his company.

10 pm, 11 pm, midnight, "just one more row honey, then I'll come to bed". Meanwhile, I'm like, "are you serious?!"

I'm thankful we all have a hobby in common. And most of my friends (and growing relationships) have yarn in common. It really has been a great stress reliever as I cope with this disease - which sometimes I define as dreadful when feeling pessimistic or even depressed.

Now that I completed the cable hat, I need to self-discipline and complete other  stored UFO's (unfinished objects). So far, I'm off to a good start.

In my blog, I've touched lightly on that my kids are home educated. My 20 year old son, who started college at 14 is still in school. Successfully and passionately studying physics, minoring in computer science.

Second born, would be 17 year old daughter is deceased. What she couldof/wouldof been is only in my imagination until I'm at eternal rest. And my now 13 year old daughter is completing 7th grade.

Most who have met my kids or read my blog know, that I've designed an efficient and effective curriculum for my kids. A beneficial educational method that I hope to someday publish.

Now that the first day of summer - Tuesday, June 20th is quickly approaching, I'm back on my laptop designing a summer curriculum since my husband and I believe learning happens year round.

Of course, the intensity is lessened during summer. Daughter typically gets one week off each month - which come in handy on the week prior or during her monthly cycle. I just wish I'd thought to give my eldest a week off each month when he was an adolescent. However, the youngest usually gets the advantages of an improved parent. When you know better, you do better.

I consider myself a budding writer. If I'm really good at this craft, I'm not secure in the idea yet, especially since the stroke (had to relearn everything - how to read, write, talk, walk, sit, eat, drive, knit, crochet; everything). Each time I update Sage's Curriculum, I'm proud of what I've produced and the results I see in my kids everyday. Witnessing their qualities and development only motivates me to stay the course. Keep doing what works for our family.

some dialysis treatments go smoothly. then, some dialysis treatments go the opposite of smoothly.

lately i've been showing up to treatments too heavy. between treatments (which are three times per week, three hours per session), i'm allotted to gain 2 or less kilos. well, my foodie behind has been gaining far more.

for instance, my last treatment i gained a devastating 5 kilos! this was over a two day period, but still... and what happens when that happens? more fluid has to be removed.

and the risk of removing too much fluid not only can be deadly, to my understanding, but the immediate side effects, rather unpleasant, to say the least.

i get dialysis Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday starting at 4 am. usually by 4:30 am i am sound asleep. when i drift off, my husband goes to the car and naps himself (he works from home on my treatment days).

when i'm asleep, i'm asleep. and i'll sleep until treatment is over if comfortable.

normally my treatment is over by 8 am. lately i've been waking in intense pain or discomfort by 7 am (which gives me another hour to suffer through whatever because i must stay hooked to machine until treatment ends).

discomfort can be varied, if not all of the following: headache. nausea. hot flashes. urge to have a bowel movement. feeling faint. rapid heartbeat. cramping - mild to intense. i can go from moaning to actually screaming in agony from the muscle spasms that can be in one or more muscle groups -- usually my legs to all over muscle spasms at one time (while hooked to the machine via two huge needles in my left arm and a blood pressure cuff on right).

blood pressure drops at this time - think this is part of the vaso-vagal reaction [google symptoms to confirm] usually technician gets an IV bag and immediately returns removed fluid back into my body - which means, i'll go home, still heavier than i should be. feeling swollen - perhaps needing to come back the next day (on a nondialysis day or try to remove more fluids next treatment day).

through all the discomfort, usually i have at least 45 minutes left of treatment. the pain, indescribable. honestly, at these grueling times, i wish they could just instantly put me to sleep.

it's humbling. you can't fake strength and discipline at this time. if no one knew you were present on this day, they'll soon know different once you or they leave. i'm sure my screams are audible enough for the entire unit can hear. but at that time, i don't care. what others think and feel about who/what they think i am is the last thing on my mind during this hour or so.

in the dialysis unit i'm assigned, the demographic is mostly non-english speakers. a higher elderly population. and a mild to high percentage are really sickly (like i once was back in 2014/2015). so, having a lengthy, substantive conversation before, during or after treatments is mostly non-doable. i usually acknowledge others with a pleasant smile or a wave. rarely do i have a lengthy dialogue, which is okay. the experience, my reality - it is what it is.

but one thing i noticed (and am grateful for), everybody recognizes pain. no matter the language barrier, the culture, the whatever. pain is pain. thus, compassion is universal.

and this is proven every single time i'm humbled by those vicious muscle spasms. i just want to die in those turtle minutes, seeming like days.

if my husband is not present or ineffective if/when present. others come to my rescue. yes, there are technicians and nurses assisting me, but also too. there are guest of other patients coming ~ w/concern. *the pain i experience may have been someone else or could  be anyone at any hour.

mind you, at this painful time, i'm calling on ALL THE GODS. even my mother (whom i know wouldn't spit on me if i were on fire). i'm like, "oh god, someone please help me. momma!" over and over and over and over and over again, between screams. "please, help" i beg.

meanwhile, there's some stranger, non-english speaker at my feet. massaging where it hurts. helping or instructing my husband on what to do. typically my husband has one leg and some other person has the other.

all while i want to stand or walk around, but i can't. have to stay inclined in the comfy, pink, cushiony dialysis chair and deal with it. except what seems like some undeserved, nefarious punishment from something wicked with the power to inflict severe pain even on the innocent (or close to innocent).

once the episode is over all i can do is be gracious. say "thank you" over and over again, best i can. language difference is varied so it's not like i can find one non-english way to express my sincere appreciation.

but just like pain, gratitude is universal.

today i told my sweet, cuddly, funny, loving, strong-willed; recently turned 13 year old daughter to floss her teeth. she has braces (which are coming off in a few months) and her gums looked swollen.

her curt response, "stop focusing on what you see on the outside. Roald Dahl (one of her favorite authors - she's an avid reader) said, if you think ugly thoughts, you're going to be ugly. if you think nice thoughts, you'll be pretty".  then she went back to her computer to finish her Sage's Curriculum.

meanwhile i'm like, "what does that quote have to do with your flossing her teeth?!"

still baffled, i researched the actual quote. it is, "if a person has ugly thoughts everyday, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until you can hardly bear to look at it.

a person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. you can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick out teeth, but if you have good thoughts it will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely".

i'm so thankful i introduced the joy of reading to my kids very early on. they can lose themselves in quality literature. and if they stumble across quotes, such as this. words that will help encourage self love and a positive attitude. well then that makes my job of parenting, mothering, mentoring, inspiring a bit easier.

i'm blunt. especially since the stroke. i tend to get right to the point in what i'm trying to say.

i texted my husband, telling him what she had said. i reminded him of the struggles with her. seems if i tell her - honey, that's enough food. somehow she hears me calling her fat. if i say - honey, wash your face, somehow she hears me calling her ugly. if is say - honey, clean your bedroom, somehow she hears me saying, i don't love her.

damn, is there a sugarcoating class for mothers?!

hubby's response, "it's called teenage girl syndrome. it doesn't matter what you say, she is going to interpret it to the extreme".

sigh!

again, i'm happy when she's able to reason her way through a healthier thoughts when in a healthy state of mind. but, according to the warning app on our phones, those days of the month are fastly approaching. i need to find a sugarcoating class quick.

recently survived through a lengthy bout with depression. the mental state of darkness had me feeling as though, this was my permanent existence. for weeks or months i felt lonely. i felt isolated. i felt frustrated. i felt worthless. i felt regret. i felt inadequate. i felt sad. i felt despair. i felt irritated. i felt impatient. i felt unwell. i felt unbalanced. i felt pessimistic. i felt frightened. i felt fat. i felt trapped. i felt ugly. felt like a complete failure at life, period.

sitting here on my sofa in my cluttered living space, i'm back to my usual happy, optimistic, free minded self. it feels kinda weird to revisit all those feeling i felt (for far too long for my comfort) just a short time ago.

eventually i began to talk to those whom i felt safe about my hopeless feelings. to finally express my truth at that time was not only freeing, but relieving. instinctively i knew it was a possible risk sharing such abysmal thinking, but, i knew i could no longer exist in that bottomless pit of thought.

thankfully, everyone (beside my husband were only a few) i regurgitated my feelings were compassionate, non judgmental, reasonable and intelligent listeners. i'm glad i had the forethought to chose my ears wisely, but also that i have these amazing people in my life.

truthfully, part of the reasons why i haven't blogged in such a while was because i felt trapped in my thoughts. i mean, i would go from one extreme to another with feelings of fear and loneliness. but never wanting to die or take my own life, which was a fortune.

to my understanding, depression is common with those suffering renal failure and on dialysis. please google these facts on your own to gain your own perspective and knowledge. but for me, realizing this was (or could be my fate) is/was pretty terrifying.

being able to control or monitor my thoughts and feelings and maintaining a sense of calm and peace and harmony is the realm i prefer to station. the idea of feeling so low and lifeless is something i guess i'll have to continue battling until my end.

we all are fighting through something, right? i mean, reality is, are you you winning the battle or not?

one can never really know what others are suffering in silence through. i'm thankful no one could actually read my thoughts then, yet my heart felt so heavy. breathing took great strength and courage.

deep down, i know i have to fight. fight tenaciously if not for myself, but all those who may hold me dear. i know my illness has taught me that i am truly fortunate with a great deal of amazingly genuine people in my life. aside from my dear husband, kids and father; i have been gifted a host of quality people and my heart always radiates with joy at the idea that yeah, my mother may not love me, but so many other people do.

just returned home from an early morning swim. on non dialysis days, i get up at 5 am. head to the gym. since i'm still healing from a toe fracture, i've been swimming only. no machine circuits and no biking for the time being. i stay in the pool for about an hour in a half. swimming laps back and forth the entire time. resting for a few seconds in between. then whirlpool, shower, steam, shower, steam. moisturize.

[there was a time when i was repulsed at the idea of utilizing public wet facilities. but a near death experience can rid one of possible ocd proclivities and promote fearless and mindful living]

remember, i had my first swim lesson last summer. a stranger surprised me with this paid lesson. i guess this unknown person witnessed my efforts in the pool.

i would try to do what i read in swim books and viewed on youtube, as lessons were unaffordable then and now. from that one lesson though, plus another surprise lesson i've practiced technique each time i was privileged the opportunity.

minor health setbacks kept me out of the pool longer than i would have liked. but once wellness resurfaced i was back in the pool as soon as possible. i feel so free.

today, i was so happy. so proud of what i've accomplished thus far in the water. i'm rambling. time for a nap.

my comfort level is remarkable. for the longest i could not comprehend the breathing while swimming. everything about breathing while kicking, while this, while that was so complicated, yet i was determined.

and today, i must say. my determination paid off. "I'M SWIMMING!"

Received my dialysis lab results today. They take all the necessary labs monthly. Also, certain ones are taken twice per month.

This month, my labs were satisfactory except for one, which has been high some time now. Phosphorus. Phosphorus is found in most if not all foods, but higher in some. On the renal diet (until I get a kidney) I am to AVOID high phosphorus foods such as: milk, cheese/dairy, dried beans nuts, chocolate and colas.

I LOVE cheese. Cheese has been my primary weakness most of my life. And giving it up, even if it can potentially kill me has been my obstacle.

The range is normally 2.5 - 5.5. February it was 6.2. March it is 6.2, meaning I haven't learned from the previous month. For me, these readings are like a school report card. Typically a disciplined person,  I usually aim for excellence (as I've encouraged my kids). What's the lesson for me in this rut I feel stuck in?

Today I could tell when my awesome dietitian was slowly approaching me with several lab sheets in her hand that I wasn't going to been happy with the results. I couldn't slyly escape, walk away as I had several minutes left on the dialysis machine. Sigh.

On top of this, I've been craving a huge glass of chocolate milk - which I've been avoiding until I received excellent results on my labs. Looks like I've been indulging in too much of the other forbidden foods. Reality is, I'll never be privileged a big glass of anything, especially chocolate... not with these defected kidneys.

Perhaps the stress I've been subject to lately has been weakening my self-control. Despite my current challenges, I'm confident that I'll soon find my way.

Presently I'm in the midst of an uphill battle. Exhausting myself beyond my limits in order to stay emotionally and physically healthy. As written in a previous post, my mother (estranged) is not well. And since I'm her only child, others are contacting me. Dilemma is, she's kept me out of her life, as well as any of her personal business. She's well off, and has the means to have an abundantly stable and satisfactory life, but chooses/creates chaos and drama instead.

Degrees of downright foolishness has been going on with her my entire life. Just when I became conscious, and less afraid. I simply removed myself. For me and my immediate families well being.

And now, my peace and tranquility is being interrupted. In the beginning, which is days ago, while trying to find resources while gaining more insight into her dangerous world. I got my head bit right off. She called and savagely laid into me. "Stay away from me. I don't need you" amongst many other scary obscenities which I dare not list in my blog. Her vicious rant concluded with her traditional, "have a blessed day". Despite her abuse and neglect, she's always been hyper-religious. Had me in constant paralyzing fear of her and the Lord most of my life.

When it comes to me, she reveals more of who she is when she thinks no one is listening. However, this night my husband can hear her loud, abrasive chastisement over the phone.

Paraphrased: "Why do you put up with this? Doesn't she know you are not well?" He went on, "only I'm going to have to care for you when you completely fall apart. Like usual, she's not going to care". He concluded, "start speaking up for yourself. Other times you won't let anyone pounce over you like that".

Now my husband never ever voices his opinion on matters such as these. He's just there, picking up the pieces and loving me through whatever it is. But this is hard. He's been watching me fall completely apart over her well being. Watched my unconditional compassion as I try to search for quality resources for her individual circumstances.

Watched me collapse at the end of the day. Witnessed the sleepless nights. The upset stomach. The sea of tears. The wondering, "what can I do?"

He's watched me be impatient with him and our twelve year old daughter. They are getting the brunt of my anguish. My fears. They are unfairly experiencing the wrath [my mother] should very well feel.

The intent for this update was to blog about how my day was much more peaceful, ironically. After her last tongue-lashing, I sorta let go. Re-estrange myself.

Fortunately I have peace in my world. Privileged an awesome husband. Incredible kids. Quality friendships & relationships. Reside in a safe and family-oriented community. Great doctors.

I'm focusing on what's good in my world. I've already spent a lifetime healing from a hellish childhood. And I dare not go backwards simply because a few may be judging my staying away from her. Yet "they" don't want to deal with her. "They" may not help my husband (in the darkness of the night) help me -- get through an episode of intense grief.

My father has been an amazing support throughout this. He wasn't present in my youth, but he's here now, for which I'm immensely grateful. I absolutely adore him. The contrast between him and my mother is glaring. But... I'm here as a result of the both of them.

I digress. This day was great. I slept through my entire dialysis treatment at 4 am. Three hours. I slept peacefully that night before. I really need rest and peace in order to continue surviving this renal/stroke condition.

Unfortunately I've been nibbling and craving the foods I can not have -- cheese, potatoes, tomatoes, avocados, bananas, ice cream, peanut butter, oranges/juice; even chocolate milk. According to the Renal Diet (google), certain foods are forbidden. I've been told as well as I've researched the risk involved if I consume. But lately, in particular I've noticed, either I don't care or I'm not paying attention or I just welcome death at that moment. No, I don't want to die. But I do want to escape. And food has been an affordable means to do so.

It has recently been brought to my attention, my mother (aside from a year after my illness, whom I've been estranged for decades) needs my help. And now it has gotten to the point where she'll have minimal power to reject me, as she always have. At some point considering, she's kept her life private from me, I'm going to have to seek legal counsel, for which I have no current resources.

I have been beyond stressed for the past few days. Knots in my upset stomach. Fears. Discomfort. Like now, it's 3:00 am. I have dialysis in an hour - 4:00 am. I have not slept. Tortured memories of an abusive, neglectful, sad childhood keeps playing in my head like a movie reel. Nothing I do to distract from the pain has been of comfort.

Prior to renal disease, when I'd have these memories of my childhood, I was mobile enough to just get up and move my body. No matter the late hour, I'd go for a run. Go for a drive. I'd just get up and go. Move until my disturbed mind calms. But now. I'm stuck. Stuck in my thoughts that are causing debilitating discomforts. A mental and emotional prison because I no longer have the strength or the resource to get up and move.  To go.

My 78 year old mother, who has gone blind over the years, is now in worse shape. Few, if any in the circles she has frequented even know she has a daughter who lives only a few cities away.

Amongst her many secrets, I am one. But now, I'm needed. Not by her, per se, but others who have grown concerned for her situation. I have gotten updated on how she, a person of wealth, has been showing up at her senior center smelling of urine and feces. Combative. Needing more assistance than the usual but has been angrily refusing assistance from those who may trying to help. Facility staff has been puzzled on what to do for a woman who has been active in her community for decades. And no one could notify me directly because again, as far as they knew, I did not exist.

So now, reluctantly, but compassionately I'm taking steps to help. Be there for a person who always been absent or abandoned me in my times of need, be there for her in hers.

My father who was not around in my youth, is here for me through this. thankfully. My rock. I don't want my dear husband involved because he has enough on his plate - caring for me. Tending to our homeschooled daughter. Working. Maintaining the household.

There is so much to figure out. She owns a lot of property for which there is enormous disorganization. She's always had unsavory people around taking advantage, so I don't know to what extent this element has destroyed.

I have limited to no insight to her personal business, even though I'm her only child and have never, ever given her any reason to distrust me, she has never let me in. I've always been like, "the other female" as if, I were some stranger for which, she had to compete.

Without going into all the uglier details, I'm in a very difficult predicament, which I predict, will go on for years, considering all the secrets and her possessions. My main goal is to make sure she's safe and secure. Despite her treatments of me, her well being is my concern. And right now, the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Somehow, I must muster up the resilience to navigate through the processes and environments and obstacles that I'm not at all prepared for.

I gotta present myself with confidence and strength (reveal no weakness even though I feel weak) as in a couple of days I will go and meet with the center my mother frequents. Stoically sit through and listen and try to comprehend all the sordid details the staff and possibly fellow participants are willing to share. Hopefully I'll be equipped with the knowledge, the resources to get me to the next unknown step within this dreaded experience.

Happy Valentine's Day! Today is the anniversary date since being on dialysis (2014). My how time has raced by. I'm so thankful for my health, my strength.

Finally. After over two long months. I swam!

In November of last year I ended up hospitalized with a fistula infection. Then weeks following that recovery I had an unrelated surgery to flatten the grotesque knots on my fistula.

So now that it's the beginning of February, I've been medically cleared to re-enter the pool. And I did. And it was absolutely wonderful.

One huge portion of the pool was heavily populated with a water aerobics class. And the deeper end was cornered off for free swim. I was in this side alone. Free.

As I've written in previous blogs, I just started swimming last year. Had my first swim lesson last summer. And I've been swimming regularly up until fistula issue.

While in the pool, I felt so emotional. Teared up as I smiled while trying to remember to breath correctly all at the same time.

I was like a big plump kid. Sinking mostly but had a continued elation for the one hour or so I stayed in the water. I just didn't want the experience to end. And thankfully, I have the freedom to do it all again soon.

It is February 6th. Happy 17th birthday my beloved daughter.

Your dad, older brother and subsequent, younger sister, we all miss you. Continue to honor and celebrate your short, yet significant life. Embracing what/who you were. What you could have/should have had the privilege to live, experience and become. Times remain challenging in every way since your absence. Today's troubles, though arduous, will never compare to the anguish of losing you.

Mommy pushes harder especially when she wants to give up. Whining and putting off what I can and could do today is not in the mindset. Losing you has continued to be my teacher. Some of us (who grieve in silence baring invisible wounds) -- We smile. We share. We care. Somehow we carry on. We may laugh. Yet we love genuinely, graciously and generously.

Having a child gives parents the greatest joy. Losing a child gives parents the greatest pain. Childbirth can't really be explained. Neither can child[loss]. Both have to be experienced to be comprehended.

We celebrate your life, your date of birth in our own way. Much like other deceased significant people are celebrated, today is a holiday for us and has been since your unexpected death.

Dad is off work. Your sister has a day off homeschooling. Hopefully your brother is honoring you in his way while at college. Some years we get a cake and balloons go somewhere or do something special depending on finances and mood.

We cleanse our body, minds and environment by eating healthier. Monitoring our thoughts more closely. Keeping them aligned with those things and experiences with which we'd prefer to attract.
De-cluttering our living space and if needed, relationships. Honing in on the substantive, meaningful; beneficial necessities to maintain an enlightened life.

Dear child, you are always in my heart. On my mind. Thankfully mommy gets stronger each day in life outliving her child. Stoically I continue on with my life's journey. Hoping to become a much better, brighter person each day. Inspiring, uplifting others, hopefully.

Honestly, some days are harder than others. Silently I continue to grieve. I've learned. Then I or your dad piece me (or ourselves) back together and we face the world, with a smile. With awareness.

Living and let live. Whatever my beliefs and philosophies are, actually living them myself. Not imposing "my values" on others. Being myself what I want to see in the world. Being that friend I want to have, etc. Essentially, intending to treat/respect others the way I want to be treated/respected.

Unselfishly aiming to be authentically kind, courteous, compassionate, supportive, honest, loyal...

Being a quality mother, wife, friend, neighbor and stranger is my intent each day with every breath I take. Living a conscious, purposeful life is necessary to get through without crumbling over the trivial. Being of strength and courage. Striving to be a good example to my kids.

Renal disease has not broken me. Because looking back, if I survived all these years without you, like the Sage I've gradually become in that time-span, I can sagaciously get through. Carrying on.

Turns out, one of the knitting groups we attend (attend several different ones) has informed me, my daughter is no longer welcomed.

I was stunned when we heard this. After all, we have been faithfully attending this particular group for years, and have bonded with many of those who attend.

Recently my daughter had to go to the front office to get something. One of the ladies in the group volunteered to help my daughter (who also sews) with her Serger machine.

We brought her machine with us this visit for the lesson. But did not have all the tools needed to thread the machine. When my daughter had to to go ask for a pair of tweezers, one of the head staff in charge was there. And I guess she'd never seen my daughter, who is a valued participant of this (and other groups).

This woman came into where we all were knitting, "who's child is this?" . "Mine" , I answered.
Woman went on about the activity is for seniors. "I'm no senior" I replied. "How old are you?", the woman inquired. "49, 50 this October". "Okay, I'll let you attend, but your daughter can not".

I was devastated. I take my kids wherever I go. I want them to learn and see what I experience. My daughter have helped some of the women there with their projects. They all love having her there.

Fortunately, my daughter is still welcome to the other groups we attend. Somehow, I'll adjust to not having her accompany me.

It has been over a week since my stitches and staples have been removed following  fistula surgery. Remember, beginning of this year I had surgery on the aneurysm that had developed as a result of sticking huge, painful needles in my arm three times a week for necessary treatments. Enormous, grotesque knots develop, thus surgery.

During the election, I was hospitalized due to a fistula infection. This was not the cause of the recent surgery but infection had to be treated prior to surgery. 

There has been a long wait to get back in the pool. I just had my first swim lesson over the summer and have been swimming {every non-dialysis day} since. So, I'm anxious for doctors to approve me to get back into the water. And of course, I'll soon be blogging about this joyous experience. 

Now that my twelve year old daughter has had her menstrual cycle -- PMS for a couple of years now, my patient husband and impatient me have decided to give her (us) a week off during those days of pure chaos. Any reason or rationality goes out the door. Complete pandemonium.

This is one of the many benefits to homeschooling. I've noticed during my kids years of puberty and hormones, we all needed to step away from our usual routine. Either get more sleep, more food, more alone time, whatever.

My go-to remedy for when my kids behavior gets out-of-control, I do one or all of the following: Feed them. Focusing primarily on highly nutritious food. Because I suspect that maybe their temporary behavior issue is caused by an imbalance in their diet.

Next, I give them a long, warm, relaxing bath. Bathroom is scented with relaxing fragrances, lights are dimmed, etc. At some point, I'll gently clean their backs. Maybe even give them a quick foot rub.

And finally, I'll put them to bed. I believe sleep is crucial during their growing years. Preteens, teens are still going through growth spurts. And I noticed behavior changes during this time as well. Additional sleep helps them rest their body and mind. Eventually waking up behaving like their "normal sweet selves".

But, if "I'm hormonal too", this is a different story. There are times I may not have the patience needed to be more compassionate with "my own kids" during this challenging time. During those times, I may need... to eat, need a bath, need to sleep.

One of the sweet, beloved older ladies from one of my knitting groups died last week. Just three weeks ago she told me, that she had six months. Thankful she trusted me with this disturbing news, first I was speechless. I informed her of my honesty, "I don't know what to say", as I squeezed her affectionately like I always did. Stoicly she was appreciative for my compassion.

Thinking back now, I've learned so much from this bittersweet experience. This Canadian, bilingual, french speaking woman taught me even more about tenacity. How to keep living through adversity. Though she knew she was dying, she continued on with her usual life routine.

Many of us ladies (my husband, and daughter included) valued her as a fellow participant. She was an extremely knowledgeable knitter. Many participants still have unfinshed projects she was graciously assisting them with.

This knitting group is not a class. All levels are welcomed. Whenever one of us is challenged by a stitch or project, usually another avail themselves to assist. Even myself, or my husband or even my twelve year old daughter helps someone with a challenge (and vice versa).

Looking back, I'm sure she suspected she had very limited time left. She expressed no fear
and a feisty determination to keep going with her life. She was there answering questions and also completing projects she was making for others.

It was such an honor to have experienced her. I loved her strength, her compassion. She always inquired about how I was feeling. Encouraged me to keep going and that I'd soon get a kidney. I even have a pink hat she gave me. And knitting books she gave me and my husband.

During meetups, I look over to her usual spot, where she sat. One leg was amputated, yet her son brought her to every knit activity. She was there. Continuing...

Message: keep going. Don't procrastinate. No one knows how long. She was told six months. But unfortunately, she had far less time. But with her time, she continued. Did what she wanted. Helped others. Was kind, regardless of her fate.

What a privilege to go to bed, wake up knowing those most important to me are safe and well. I'm in good health and spirits. We all have the things we need - each other, quality friends, food and shelter. And what an extra bonus each year to go to sleep New Years Eve and wake New Years day to continued Twilight Zone episodes. Regardless of seeing repeats, each viewing is as enjoyable as the first time.

About 10:00 pm, New Years Eve, instantly I had a brief bout feeling melancholy. Sort of frightened by another new year fastly approaching. "Did I accomplish all intentions in 2016?" I quietly wondered. No, I no longer write down resolutions each year. But I do "think" about those things I'd like to happen (and what I intend to do to bring my desires into fruition).

Mentally listing all the life lessons I've learned. All the amazing experiences I was fortuned. Inspirational people who've touched my life. New friends and relationships that have developed.

Time seems to be racing by. And there are so many moments I just want to last. For instance, my daughter and I snuggled in bed this morning chatting, she, knitting while we both watched Twilight Zone. She's twelve and I'm so thankful she still wants to be under her mom (and dad).

And my son, he's been home for about a week, This trip, he relaxed more and was more himself. Usually when he comes home from the academic intense college he attends and he's stressed. Naturally he's a laid back, affable person. Thankfully this is who he was this trip. Hopefully he's adapting to the stress he  endures at school as he aims to do only his best. His dad and I reminds him that we are truly proud of who and what he is.

I'm having surgery (fistula) tomorrow. Luckily I feel limited to no anxiety about the upcoming procedure. My surgeon is awesome and knowing that I'll be in good hands keeps me calm. I'm in the care of amazing doctors to which I'm grateful.

That's all for now. I know it's been a while since I've last blogged. Thing is, I often have interesting ideas and content in my head. By the time I find the time and energy to write, I'm no longer inspired. Hopefully this all changes in this new year. I'm a creative person and happiest when I'm creating and sharing. May my readership grow this year and years to come. And may I become  a much better blogger.

Happy New Year!