i LOVE love
showing/receiving...
LOVE and its power
healing
Monday, July 4, 2016
Monday, June 13, 2016
Recently stumbled upon thoughtful letters sent to me over the years following my daughters death. Included with these letters are notes of well wishes during my medical challenges. Accompanied are random "thinking of you" letters as well. While browsing through some, I thought of the power of kindness and how much priceless gestures can facilitate healing. After so many years, comfort is still found even after I learned how to live again.
I keep every note someone leaves me. Even ones left on my vehicle - "Sage, I saw your car parked here and thought I'd drop you a note". I often think of others and I love being (and knowing) I'm thought of. Wow, am I sentimental or what. It's like, "express how you feel about me while I'm still breathing". Roses now please.
I keep every note someone leaves me. Even ones left on my vehicle - "Sage, I saw your car parked here and thought I'd drop you a note". I often think of others and I love being (and knowing) I'm thought of. Wow, am I sentimental or what. It's like, "express how you feel about me while I'm still breathing". Roses now please.
"I think every time a dialysis patient arrives to their treatment (after two day period) weighing in appropriately, confetti and balloons should instantly drop over their individual chair -- especially on days when monthly lab report is excellent. Maintaining a rigorous and disciplined dietary routine can be a chore. Achieving success is celebration worthy." ~Sage
Friday, May 27, 2016
I'm not always my best self during/after some of my kids sports competitions. Of course, I expect more from them than I do from their teammates, considering. I'm fully aware of their capabilities --their strengths; their weaknesses, at least I'd like to think so, as their mother.
Oftentimes I push them lovingly ~ academically and athletically (and, in attitude). I desire them to do their very best and fairly earn whatever opportunity awaits an individual who has an impressive work ethic and personal discipline.
My husband and I provide the tools and resources necessary to make life's accomplishments easier to achieve. I mean, why make things harder when life may automatically create hardships naturally.
My eldest (my son) had his share of mommy when she's not at her best. Though athletically (and academically) gifted, rarely did I witness him a peak performance in some of the various sports he was privileged.
Routinely I/we would train him (when it was a sport we were knowledgeable) or hire a private coach. I'd borrow library books and DVD's on whatever sport he was currently participating. We'd encourage him watch instructional videos on YouTube. I'd make sure he'd stay fit with frequent runs and swims and yoga. Was mindful of what he consumed nutritionally.
Being a former aerobics and fitness instructor, it was often apparent to me what type of routine would benefit and be useful in terms of conditioning in order to excel in a particular sport.
Back then, regretfully, I didn't control my tongue and offer much more encouragement and less ridicule. I had so many fears for his well being and peer acceptance which probably was the source of how I expressed.
To me during that time, the way you compete athletically is an indicator of how you navigate through life. Being repeatedly bullied as a kid myself, I felt it crucial to teach people how to treat you through your performance on the court, in the field or otherwise.
Gradually I learned (and accepted), my son is a very laid back person. Though athletically-abled, his competitive side shines more academically.
Truth is, kids can be mean. And looking back, I realize, mommy's can be too. Bottom line, there is a source to every emotion. Character improves once we become conscious of our own imperfections.
Luckily, my very athletically inclined, no-nonsense daughter is seeing me more at my best. But still, her recent sports competititions have proven, I'm still a work in progress.
Oftentimes I push them lovingly ~ academically and athletically (and, in attitude). I desire them to do their very best and fairly earn whatever opportunity awaits an individual who has an impressive work ethic and personal discipline.
My husband and I provide the tools and resources necessary to make life's accomplishments easier to achieve. I mean, why make things harder when life may automatically create hardships naturally.
My eldest (my son) had his share of mommy when she's not at her best. Though athletically (and academically) gifted, rarely did I witness him a peak performance in some of the various sports he was privileged.
Routinely I/we would train him (when it was a sport we were knowledgeable) or hire a private coach. I'd borrow library books and DVD's on whatever sport he was currently participating. We'd encourage him watch instructional videos on YouTube. I'd make sure he'd stay fit with frequent runs and swims and yoga. Was mindful of what he consumed nutritionally.
Being a former aerobics and fitness instructor, it was often apparent to me what type of routine would benefit and be useful in terms of conditioning in order to excel in a particular sport.
Back then, regretfully, I didn't control my tongue and offer much more encouragement and less ridicule. I had so many fears for his well being and peer acceptance which probably was the source of how I expressed.
To me during that time, the way you compete athletically is an indicator of how you navigate through life. Being repeatedly bullied as a kid myself, I felt it crucial to teach people how to treat you through your performance on the court, in the field or otherwise.
Gradually I learned (and accepted), my son is a very laid back person. Though athletically-abled, his competitive side shines more academically.
Truth is, kids can be mean. And looking back, I realize, mommy's can be too. Bottom line, there is a source to every emotion. Character improves once we become conscious of our own imperfections.
Luckily, my very athletically inclined, no-nonsense daughter is seeing me more at my best. But still, her recent sports competititions have proven, I'm still a work in progress.
Friday, May 20, 2016
Muscle cramps. Intense. Painful.
About four times this month towards the latter part of my dialysis treatments, I've been stricken with awful muscle cramps. Many of the dialysis patients have had them, so when someone is in their form of expressed agony, no one else present that day stares or ask questions. Yeah, the technicians and nurses do their best to offer much needed pain relief from the intensity of the cramping episode by returning some of the fluid that was removed for that days treatment.
Muscle cramps usually occur when too much fluid has been removed (when I weigh in "heavy" before treatments, it is assumed that I overindulged in the forbidden liquid restraint. Too much liquid could mean -- no more blogging from Sage, forever as I risk the eternal realm of seizing to exist).
When these twisting, muscle bending cramps happen, patient is expected to remain inclined in dialysis chair. Usually the patient is still hooked to the dialysis machine through two, big, long, painful needles on one arm (or in the chest if patient has temporary dialysis catheter - which I had for a year or so), plus a blood pressure monitor on the other arm - as cuff is kept on during entire dialysis treatment to frequently monitor pressure rise or fall, which can pose a set of other risk in need of immediate attention.
I've had several experiences with these muscle cramps while on dialysis. And each time they are unlike the other, and nothing like your normal muscle cramps where you can still talk easily or sensibly or even coherently.
I talk, no, I scream. Not being a religious person at all, other than the enjoyment of the study of world religions & cultures & philosophies & anything new that I find interesting or enlightening -- for lack of personal ignorance and added intelligence in knowing that there is a plethora of beliefs, ideas on this planet. Everyone does not think or belief or exist like me, and that's okay. Nor does anyone possess a monopoly on what's right/wrong. Or who's good/bad. We all have our own ideas and philosophies, and thankfully most of us are privileged the freedoms to choose what's best for us and our families. Me, I respect and accept and appreciate/celebrate everyone for who they are as individuals. There's no group think necessary for my friendship. I have no desire to change anyone into mini-Sage's. There already is one, me. Honestly, I avoid this topic and have already digressed...
...but, in that moment of shear pain, I call on all the ~ gods (& goddesses). "Oh please help me [insert deity of choice here]. Eventually, and thankfully a trained technician comes to my rescue and begins instructing me to sit down as they proceed to return fluids. Later, my husband (who may have been napping in the car) comes in. Witnessing all the blankets and forms of removable clothing, personal entertainment (my yarn, needles, hooks, books, etc), thrown to the side or sometimes, on the floor. With me defiantly standing or leaning (on tech) as I scream and moan and cry out. Totally vulnerable. Unconcerned what others may think as I become suddenly and unexpectedly crippled in expressed, fearless pain. Reliant on others for my relief for whom I express sincere appreciation, gratitude towards once the dust settles.
About four times this month towards the latter part of my dialysis treatments, I've been stricken with awful muscle cramps. Many of the dialysis patients have had them, so when someone is in their form of expressed agony, no one else present that day stares or ask questions. Yeah, the technicians and nurses do their best to offer much needed pain relief from the intensity of the cramping episode by returning some of the fluid that was removed for that days treatment.
Muscle cramps usually occur when too much fluid has been removed (when I weigh in "heavy" before treatments, it is assumed that I overindulged in the forbidden liquid restraint. Too much liquid could mean -- no more blogging from Sage, forever as I risk the eternal realm of seizing to exist).
When these twisting, muscle bending cramps happen, patient is expected to remain inclined in dialysis chair. Usually the patient is still hooked to the dialysis machine through two, big, long, painful needles on one arm (or in the chest if patient has temporary dialysis catheter - which I had for a year or so), plus a blood pressure monitor on the other arm - as cuff is kept on during entire dialysis treatment to frequently monitor pressure rise or fall, which can pose a set of other risk in need of immediate attention.
I've had several experiences with these muscle cramps while on dialysis. And each time they are unlike the other, and nothing like your normal muscle cramps where you can still talk easily or sensibly or even coherently.
I talk, no, I scream. Not being a religious person at all, other than the enjoyment of the study of world religions & cultures & philosophies & anything new that I find interesting or enlightening -- for lack of personal ignorance and added intelligence in knowing that there is a plethora of beliefs, ideas on this planet. Everyone does not think or belief or exist like me, and that's okay. Nor does anyone possess a monopoly on what's right/wrong. Or who's good/bad. We all have our own ideas and philosophies, and thankfully most of us are privileged the freedoms to choose what's best for us and our families. Me, I respect and accept and appreciate/celebrate everyone for who they are as individuals. There's no group think necessary for my friendship. I have no desire to change anyone into mini-Sage's. There already is one, me. Honestly, I avoid this topic and have already digressed...
...but, in that moment of shear pain, I call on all the ~ gods (& goddesses). "Oh please help me [insert deity of choice here]. Eventually, and thankfully a trained technician comes to my rescue and begins instructing me to sit down as they proceed to return fluids. Later, my husband (who may have been napping in the car) comes in. Witnessing all the blankets and forms of removable clothing, personal entertainment (my yarn, needles, hooks, books, etc), thrown to the side or sometimes, on the floor. With me defiantly standing or leaning (on tech) as I scream and moan and cry out. Totally vulnerable. Unconcerned what others may think as I become suddenly and unexpectedly crippled in expressed, fearless pain. Reliant on others for my relief for whom I express sincere appreciation, gratitude towards once the dust settles.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
There is this elderly patient who sits across from me during early morning dialysis. Less than a small amount of feet - he is facing me. Unfortunately he frequently has a cough. And... he refuses to politely cover his mouth. Arrgh!
During his phlegm-filled, open-mouthed coughs, "slightly OCD, germaphobe" me can visualize the grotesque, monsterish, distorted creatures floating towards me at an accelerated speed. Entering, invading my every opening. Potentially contagious germs racing towards (me, who is already suffering in some way like the other present patients) like an undisciplined military troop.
Various shades of greens, browns, golds... huge globs of non-discriminating germs aiming right at my potentially compromised immune system and, I'm stuck -- in an inclined dialysis chair for the next three plus hours. I can't run. I can't hide. Can't duck or dodge for protective cover.
Once an adjacent patient was standing preparing for his treatment shouted, "cover your mouth" and gave the germ-spreader a crossed look. Immediately my ears and eyes perked noisily. There, observant and curious I lay, looking and wondering, what would the response be. Glad it wasn't me saying what I wanted someone else to be bold enough to say. Will the "frequent cougher" start using some form of etiquette most of us adults have been taught at some point in our lifetime. Or, will he ignore, thus carry on with this disgusting habit of his - selfishly infecting us all. Is he married, have children I wondered. Someone in his love circle has to have had brought this habitual occurrence to his attention.
Is the cougher even noticing those of us with hopeful faces (like mine) wishing he'd cover his mouth or the at least ask the staff to give him a medical covering for his mouth and nose.
Staff just roam around working like worker bees as if this repetitive coughing is not happening. I try my hardest not to complain and the few times that I do, it's something worthy of addressing - i.e. like blood left on my chair from previous patient.
Recently I had a sore throat while on dialysis. I was miserable the whole three plus hours. I desperately wanted to be disconnected and permitted to go home and rest. But prematurely ending an incomplete dialysis session is out of the question. This can also pose negatively on my transplant privileges as a non-compliant patient - which I am not.
Sigh! Somehow I'll survive this minor annoyance. Things can be quiet worse and I'm very thankful they are not. In the meantime, "I will wear the medical mask to protect myself from his and others germs". I'm growing more and more anxious to be a privileged a healthy kidney. Patience is a virtue. Complications of kidney disease and the stroke has helped cure some of my OCD, germaphobe tendencies. There is little energy or memory to worry about unimportant happenings around me that I can't control. I've gradually learned to ease up on my compulsions to fix or create a certain atmosphere for myself and my family. Adjusting and "adapting like water" as Bruce Lee would say has become my reality.
During his phlegm-filled, open-mouthed coughs, "slightly OCD, germaphobe" me can visualize the grotesque, monsterish, distorted creatures floating towards me at an accelerated speed. Entering, invading my every opening. Potentially contagious germs racing towards (me, who is already suffering in some way like the other present patients) like an undisciplined military troop.
Various shades of greens, browns, golds... huge globs of non-discriminating germs aiming right at my potentially compromised immune system and, I'm stuck -- in an inclined dialysis chair for the next three plus hours. I can't run. I can't hide. Can't duck or dodge for protective cover.
Once an adjacent patient was standing preparing for his treatment shouted, "cover your mouth" and gave the germ-spreader a crossed look. Immediately my ears and eyes perked noisily. There, observant and curious I lay, looking and wondering, what would the response be. Glad it wasn't me saying what I wanted someone else to be bold enough to say. Will the "frequent cougher" start using some form of etiquette most of us adults have been taught at some point in our lifetime. Or, will he ignore, thus carry on with this disgusting habit of his - selfishly infecting us all. Is he married, have children I wondered. Someone in his love circle has to have had brought this habitual occurrence to his attention.
Is the cougher even noticing those of us with hopeful faces (like mine) wishing he'd cover his mouth or the at least ask the staff to give him a medical covering for his mouth and nose.
Staff just roam around working like worker bees as if this repetitive coughing is not happening. I try my hardest not to complain and the few times that I do, it's something worthy of addressing - i.e. like blood left on my chair from previous patient.
Recently I had a sore throat while on dialysis. I was miserable the whole three plus hours. I desperately wanted to be disconnected and permitted to go home and rest. But prematurely ending an incomplete dialysis session is out of the question. This can also pose negatively on my transplant privileges as a non-compliant patient - which I am not.
Sigh! Somehow I'll survive this minor annoyance. Things can be quiet worse and I'm very thankful they are not. In the meantime, "I will wear the medical mask to protect myself from his and others germs". I'm growing more and more anxious to be a privileged a healthy kidney. Patience is a virtue. Complications of kidney disease and the stroke has helped cure some of my OCD, germaphobe tendencies. There is little energy or memory to worry about unimportant happenings around me that I can't control. I've gradually learned to ease up on my compulsions to fix or create a certain atmosphere for myself and my family. Adjusting and "adapting like water" as Bruce Lee would say has become my reality.
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