Diary of a Still Beating Heart

 

It is Saturday and I am glad it’s the week-end. I am so very tired. A long and difficult week has passed, but my trials and tribulations are not over yet.

I have to face Sunday and Monday and then maybe, hopefully, I will be able to rest, to breathe easily. At least for a while.

This week was filled with doctors, tests (mine and my husband’s) treatments and hospitals.

I hate hospitals. I feel I cannot spend another moment on their never-ending, labyrinthine corridors. That I will fall apart. And still, I must.

My husband’s treatments, the visits to different doctors are far from over. Now I have my own too, unfortunately. So I have to brace myself if I don’t want to break into a million pieces of pain and hope and worry.

Unfortunately, nothing helps. Not totally, anyway. No matter how much time I spend doing autogenic training, breathing in and out for so many seconds, I am still a wreck whenever I see I white coat or smell antiseptic.

The technician who performed my echocardiogram said, “Oh, look, somebody is very emotional!” And then, “You know, on the outside you are aloof and composed, but inside you are fire”.

Yes, that’s me. The Ice Queen and the Fire Demon. Ice and fire. I guess sooner or later I’ll end as a puddle on the floor.

I cannot help it.

I tried.

I write and burn.

I write and publish.

I cry.

I breathe.

I walk.

I run.

I listen to audiobooks.

I feed stray cats.

I do autogenic training.

I read.

I meditate.

I take supplements.

I eat healthy food.

I don’t drink or smoke.

And still.

My heart betrays me whenever it takes a fancy to it. At three o’clock in the morning, during an echocardiogram, or when I cower in a ditch and the sky shakes above me. When I miss my son and worry about my daughter. When I try to save a cat that is hopelessly entangled in brambles. And when I accompany my husband to uncountable MRIs, CT scans and PET scans.

I am scared

.

I am petrified.

And yet I have to gather my strength and try to put one foot in front of the other.

The other day I saw an old man at the hospital. He was crooked, like a question mark, shuffling his feet, hurrying to some appointment with a bunch of papers in his trembling hands, mumbling to himself.

And I asked myself: Why?

Why fight so hard just to live for another day, month, year, your body betraying you and your mind, at best, lost in the fog of old age?

I still haven’t understood this desire of ours.

But I am tired now and my thoughts are a jumble, so maybe I’ll ask myself this question another time.

And see if I can come up with an acceptable answer.

In The Outpatient Department, Where Time Stands Still

Last Thursday, we had a kind of emergency. A mini-emergency. Health related. My husband’s, unfortunately. At first we panicked, we didn’t know what to do, where to go, who should we call? And then, my experience as a SAHM for many years kicked in and I remembered the Outpatient Department at our health clinic. It was the place I took my daughter many times when she was little and sick.

Because we were sure my husband would need some tests and a doctor, I told him to call his family practitioner for a referral, and off we went.

As we didn’t want to go directly to the hospital, the Outpatient Department was the best option. I think about it like the little sister of an emergency room in a hospital… They are able to do basic tests, they have doctors and nurses and give you any treatment necessary. For us it is good because it is close to our home and my husband was able to walk there. What I like (well, if I can use the word “like” when I speak about a place for medical emergencies) about the place is that mainly in the afternoons it is not crowded.

After some anxiety filled time, they received us and they did tests and a doctor saw my husband and concluded it is not a “go to the hospital” situation, more like a “wait and see one”. After they ruled out the emergency factor, everything just quieted down around us. Everybody talked in low voices and I felt myself relax and be able to look around. Because they weren’t in a hurry anymore, they left us – my husband in a bed and me, standing guard nearby.

There weren’t many patients in the ward. An old man, that came with his wife also, wanted to leave and tried to argue with the doctor. But the physician, calmly and politely, was attempting to talk some sense into him – “you have almost no white blood cells, you cannot go home. Not yet.” Then somehow the conversation became about family names and their origin. This is what I like here: everybody has an origin story.

There was also an older lady who wasn’t feeling well but couldn’t tell exactly why and what bothered her. I left the doctors and nurses to try and unravel the mystery.

There were a couple of empty beds and I was so tired I wanted to just lie down in one and go to sleep. And to wake up only when everything is all right.

In the end, they filled out the papers and let us go.  

We walked home slowly; my husband was exhausted. Outside, the day was exactly as we left it – people hurrying home, cars honking impatiently, a dog barking in the nearby park.

Whatever tomorrow would bring, it wasn’t an emergency anymore and for one afternoon, that was enough for us. 

Back From the Land of Poo and Exploding Bums

Oh, and did I mention the projectile vomit?
Well, now I can lay back and joke a bit about it, but believe me, it was no joke...Maya had a very-very nasty stomach virus that lasted for a week and left my sweet daughter sheet white and with bruise-like huge dark circles under her beautiful blue eyes.
It was a fight and I fought along my baby, helping her to cope with the high fever, terrible stomach aches, debilitating diarheea and vicious bouts of vomiting. Medicine couldn't do much, especially after it was confirmed that it is a virus, so it was up to me to keep her confortable and hydrated - that is the most important thing with stomach bugs in kids, believe me. And because I am slightly (I lied, a lot) paranoid when it comes to dehydration (if you've been reading my blog, you know that at the beginning at the year we had an awful scare after Maya went all stiff and passed out and all the tests and stuff). And because I wasn't able to buy here in Israel sticks for testing her pee (my huband bought some online and we're waiting for them to arrive) I had to run every day to the ER or the laboratory and the d0ctor's office to ask (and beg, when I had to) for a simple test to see if Maya was dehydrated or not. Thank God, she wasn't... Because she is a bit (well, a lot) spoiled and very stubborn she doesn't want to drink tea or rehydration drinks or anything that looks or tastes "suspicious". Mind you, here we have this drink for kids, Minerali, with minerals and stuff, for rehydration, but it's taste is so horrible it makes Maya throw up ( it made me gag when I tasted it, and I can eat or drink any kind of medicine or such). But in the end, I managed to trick my daughter, by adding small quantities of stuff in her grape juice ( the only liquid she wanted to drink).
I am not going to bore you with all the gory details of the last week. Yesterday I was finally able to sleep for the first time in a week and I also managed to clean the house...I scraped vomit from the walls, for godness' sake! But now Maya is feeling better and that's the most important thing and she made it without the hospital...I am so relieved!

So, you see, this was the reason of my absence from the bloggy world, and from any other worlds. When my baby is sick she becomes the highlight of my actions (well, she is usually the most important thing in my existence) and everything else just slides somewhere in the background, blurred and unimportant...

Thank God for Guardian Angels!

Image by KM&G-Morris via Flickr

I haven't been blogging lately as an "old" condition of mine has been giving me a hard time. I know that because of Maya's health concerns I've been neglecting mine and now they are back with a vengeance...My problems are related to my womanhood so I am not very comfortable talking about them and boy, are they giving me grief or what...I am pretty concerned because usually this kind of problem ends with surgery and I have my issues with doctors, I don't exactly trust them...
And talking about not trusting doctors... When Maya's health problems started, aproximately one month and a half ago, I was very concerned and took her to the emergency room. There, they said her general state is good and send us home. I have it written black on white on the release papers we received there and they also wrote that she isn't dehydrated (based on what assuption, because they didn't do any tests, I have no idea). Well, surprise, surprise! Next day we were back after Maya had her first episode of convulsions and the urine test showed she was severely dehydrated!!! She was admitted and well, you know the rest. Oh, on top of everything, we have to pay for our first visit to the ER!!!!! 600 shekels, and that is a lot of money! Because they looked and her and send her home when she was very sick! Honestly, if they'll take the money I am thinking about suing. Because just isn't right! My baby-girl almost died because they didn't do their job properly and I have to say thank you and pay for it. NO WAY! And it is not the money, it is the principle.
Oh, this effing world is so buggered up! Doctors treat you like they'd treat an annoying fly and I say a "thank you" prayer to God every night because He saved my baby's life and not the bloody doctors!!!
I am upset, very upset...and I don't want to put myself willingly in the hands of some butcher so I don't know what to do...I am going to research every type of alternative medicine possible and go with it. My condition is not life-threatening and of course this problem would've been avoided if someone nice enough would've told me after I gave birth to Maya what I needed to do...
So, you see, doctors are on my Christmas list right now. Although I have a very good friend who is a doctor and the only HUMAN doctor I've known for a long time...He helps whenever he can and I am for ever grateful for this.The only person I would trust my life with at this moment is my acupuncturist, but he is an angel in disguise, so it doesn't count...
Thank God for guardian angels, otherwise we would be in trouble...

Life Begins at...44?

Image by mandolin davis via Flickr

Yeah, I had my birthday last week. I am oficially 44 now...I was so depressed before my birthday, kept thinking about old age, kept having flashes with old and wrinkled bodies (shudder), kept looking up the net for brain enhancing natural remedies. But you know what? Things changed...My fantastic husband bought me a fantastic laptop that can be used as an ebook reader and I joined a gym! Today I had my first meeting with my personal coach...of course I am not going to mention here the embarassing moments when I had to "hop up" on a scale or when I actually see with my own eyes what is my body mass index...No...I am going to focus on the merrier moments, when we built together my "fitness program" and I started on exercising. The gym I joined - "Holmes Place" is situated here, in Ashdod, near the sea, near the beach. So I focused myself and my breathing on the beautiful scenery and I made a mental note to myself that I am going to take every lesson they had in the studio: yoga, Pilates, Feldenkrais. After four years of just sitting on the side and playing "mummy" for my gorgeous baby, I am going to enjoy every moment at the gym. And did I tell you they have water aerobics, too?

High on Books and An Overdose of Vitamin C

Cover of The Last Watch (Watch, Book 4)

The last days have passed in a blurr...My little sister is arriving tomorrow! She's coming from Romania for a month, with her son and she's staying with us, obviously. We'll be a little bit cramped, but it'll be fun.
But today, well today it was a day with a mission: to go and buy us large quantities of vitamin C. I've gone just a teeny bit too hysterical with all this swine flu thing and I am getting more and more frustrated because I cannot to a lot about it. So I decided to take action, and this morning I had a revelation: vitamin C. It is said that it protects against infections or something, right? So I decided it wouldn't hurt to have some at home. I took Maya, strapped her to her buggy and off we went to the nearest "Super Pharm" to stock on the mighty vitamin.
As we reached the cool pharmacy after a stroll in the scorching heat, I thought I had hallucinations or I've stepped into another realm: all the staff members wore sailor type t-shirts (you know, the blue and white stripy ones) and they were dancing with the customers! It transpired they were having some sort of sale and they handed out presents to the courageous customers that danced with them. In the beginning Maya wanted to dance too, but then she got scared by some ladies that were shaking their bottoms a tad too enthusiastically, so we hurried home with a bagfull of vitamin C and other useful stuff, like antiperspirant and Kinder chocolate eggs. Of course, given the hyper state I was in I absolutely forgot that I don't like the vitamin C that you have to suck because it is way too sour for my taste . And now I'm stuck with an "economy" type huge bottle of a million suckable vitamin C pastilles that will blister my tongue and the roof of my mouth. But no sacrifice is too big for the final purpose: to be free from the swine flu!

About the books now. I am very pleased that I managed to put my hands on a copy of Sergei Lukyanenko's "The Last Watch". A friend of mine that works at the Steimatzky bookstore found it for me. Thank you, Thalia, from the bottom of my heart. You are a star! She helps me with all my strange requests concerning books and sometimes, when they don't have the book I'm looking for at their central deposit, Thalia traces it down for me in other book stores, all around Israel. She is a gem and a kindred spirit.
I didn't advance with "The Twilight Watch" though, because, after seeing the last Harry Potter movie I decided I don't remember very well what happens in the seventh book, so I started on it and put everything else aside. It is a huge book and I want to finish it when my sister will arrive. And of course, I got myself caught in the middle of the war between Good and Evil, again. Oh well, that's me, forever in some imaginary battle ...So I am doing everything now with my nose it the aforementioned book, no wonder I break and spill everything that I touch.
Oh, and on my iPod I have "Twilight" and when , for some reason, I cannot read (for example, when I'm out with Dubi, the dog, in the evenings) I listen to it. I've read the series three times already and I don't care what other say, I like it. it is nice, and sweet and Mrs. Meyers has a very rich vocabulary, although in the first part of "Twilight" she uses the word "chuckle" (Edward) too much. I like the books because they talk about love, true, pure and eternal and I would like to believe that it exists, vampires or no vampires.

Me, Maya and God

Image by Javier Ruata via Flickr

Since Maya was born, I 've become a lonely person...Well, I was kinda lonely even before, you know, the loneliness when sorrounded by lots of people and noise...But for three years I am ALONE. Almost.

My husband goes to work every day in the morning and returns in the evenings, spends half an hour- an hour with Maya then he puts her to sleep (Maya refuses point blank to be put to sleep by anyone else than her daddy) then he watches his favourite series - "House M.D."then falls asleep. Darie (my son) was in the army and now started working. And with him, that's another story....At 23 he's so self absorbed he doesn't care much for anything else. And he also works long hours, then goes to the gym and meets with friends. I think. I hope. I don't know a lot about my son's private life. It is very frustrating, but I guess I have to let him go and live his life the ways he thinks he wants.

And this leaves me at home for almost 12 hours every day alone, only with Maya. In the beginning I was petrified, I was so afraid to be alone with her. She was so tiny and vulnerable and I was responsible for her. Well, that was my depression thinking for me. I had a few panic attacks, as well. I am usually able to control them, I have my relaxation and breathing exercises, but the didn't work 100 percent , all the time. Sometimes the fear overhelms me and I surrender to it.

But I have another weapon. I pray. Yes, I pray. When I am afraid that something bad will happen, when I panic and my heart starts pounding in my chest I pray. I am not a very religious person but I am a believer. And I do believe in the power of a prayer...

Everything I feel it has been amplified since I am a mother. My fears, my uncertainties, even the symptoms of certain ilnesses. I am afraid to be sick because I won't have the strenght to look afer my kids, especially Maya. I know I have to be strong, healthy and lucid but somehow I manage to lose my grip on self-control, so I pray. Our Father, Thou Art in Heaven, help me. Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. I am so small and insignifiant, I know, but I am in such I dire need of You in my life. Thy Will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. I have nobody else to listen to me, to confort me, to make me think clear. .Give us this day our daily bread.And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Just let me feel the greatness of your Love. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Please God, I have nobody to turn my face to but You. Amen.

By the time I finish my prayer, I feel calmer somehow, more serene, better. And I am able to survive another day, to move on to the next battle...

It is late and I am very tired. As usual. Tomorow is Friday and so much to do!

Night night, whoever you are...

Sad...

Cover of Angela's Ashes

I just read on the net a few moments ago that the writer Frank McCourt, the author of "Angela's Ashes" died. He was one of my favourite authors, I've read and re-read Angela's Ashes a lot of times. The drinking that caused so many problems in Frank's family , the "Irish thing" - how the Italian grocery-owners calls it, was something that has market my entire life. This drinking problem is a Romanian thing also, and all my "fathers", biological and stepfathers, had it. The last of my mother's husbands was a useless drunkard that ruined our family life for ever...This is the reason why I cannot and won't drink alcohol. I cannot forget how it has marked me, us (my brothers and sister) and how it forced us apart.

Today I wanted to post something tottaly different, but the piece of news about McCourt's death saddened me so I don't think I want to write about anything else.
Also, I am pretty concerned about the raising numbers of people sick with swines' flu, here in Israel. I hope that the situation will change for the best in September, because Maya starts kindergarten then, and no way am I going to send her if we'll have some sort of epidemics here. I started to get really worried after I read this article:
http://news.brisbanetimes.com.au/breaking-news-world/britain-bids-to-quell-flu-fears-20090721-dqzp.html
It is so frustrating that in situations like this you feel helpless...What ca one do? Pray to God and...that is...or maybe take lots of vitamins to strenghten the body.
Night -night for now. Let's hope tomorrow will be a better day for all of us.