IntrinsicTina

I looked up Huntington's Disease. Wow! If I thought I had it bad!!?!! Huntington's is like ALS, Alzheimer's, and Schizophrenia altogether. I cannot imagine, and I don't have to. I see it everyday. (or, I think I do.) My neighbor here at "the home" seems to have it. I say "seems" because nobody will share her diagnosis with me, rightly so, due to HIPPA laws. But, you cannot hide symptoms. Tiny, bird-like in appearance, translucent pale skin, luminous dark eyes and tresses, and torturous, stick-like limbs.  She evokes the protective mama bear in caregivers and patients alike. I tried making friends when I arrived to no avail. She'd look down, ignoring me and hyperfocusing on her activity, usually being fed. I was dismayed see her spend days in a darkened room despite a prime sunny location. Not unlike me, irregular sleep\wake cycling; must have others perform all activities of daily living; very limited ability to communicate. She swings from...

So, my challenge, should I choose to accept it, is to write about my mother. Tall order. My mother has loomed large in my life. Father figures may have breezed through the formative years of my life but my mom was always there. My life was not made for T.V., it was a struggle over adversity. In the earliest years, I can only piece together a sense of things through old photographs on Kodachrome. I had a typical family unit of my mother and father and I looked well-loved. I mean, I smiled with my whole heart in those earliest photos. I held fast to my mother's hand and played up to my maternal grandparents. They also played a large role but this is a.bout my mom. My mom was very pretty and fell for a sailorman early in her life. She had me at 20 and I don't think there was much of a plan. I think she was "with child" before she got married. No big thing nowadays but a bigger deal back then. I suspect they married quickly and don't recall any big wedding photos...

I'm having trouble making another difficult decision Who am I kidding? I don't really get to make decisions anymore. I get whatever anybody is willing to give me. Why the pessimism?  I'm hurting again. Nothing has the ability to cause me more pain than strife with my husband. Especially so, these days. Living isolated, away from family and friends, was never in my plan. Frankly, it's pretty damned awful. Being so isolated, my emotional dependence upon him is magnified. This is a mistake and I know it.

In the state of Washington it is legal to end your life if you have a terminal illness and if you are able to self administer. You tell your doctor, who refers you to a panel of professionals who ask you a bunch of questions. In a few weeks you go back and do it again. If you pass the hurdles, you get the appropriate prescriptions to have filled. The prescriptions are for anti-emetics and phenobarbitol. Yes, I've asked a few questions of my own. I've been considering taking this route as of late. My progress is ramping up. I'm essentially a quadrapalegic but have full mental faculties and I'm being cared for by people who don't really know me or care about me. Additionally, my husband is here less and less. While I need him more and more. My family visits infrequently. I spend an inordinate amount of time alone and I'm coherent enough to know it. I see the road ahead. I live here. I may as well be dead sooner than later.

I was called a free spirit by a woman who bothered to get to know me. I was shocked by her assessment. At that point in my life, I had "I don't know how many" jobs. I was a food service worker, cashier, bartender, typist, chiropractic assistant, rental assistant, real estate personal assistant, busgirl, administrative assistant, executive assistant to the president of an aerospace company, a business owner, a Mary Kay representative., need I say more? I was unemployed and looking with a newly-acquired accounting degree after 40. I was Alcoholismworking on my second marriage, blending-in my beautiful daughter, making amends, staying sober. Which implies that I was a drunk at some point in my life. On closer inspection, following a bad break-up of my marriage to my daughter's father, I got kind of wild. I attempted suicide, fell in hero worship with my paramedic and learned about skydiving. Went skydiving and had it videotaped for posterity.  Started hanging out with ...

I am sitting in the sun with my cat sprawled at my feet out on the front porch.  Hummingbird just buzzed us and fireworks boom all around us.  Between charges, the chickadees cheep in the poplar over my head while other songbirds sound all around.  Today is Independence Day in the United States of America.  While my husband and I are born and bred Americans who have always lived within the bounds of our great nation, my household is opting out of the festivities and celebrations today. Perhaps with my decreased independence and increased dependence, I'm not in the mood to celebrate. My household is affected by ALS. We feel like many of our choices, hopes, and dreams have been wrested away from us.  Instead of being a day of celebration our household seemed to take on the horrors of war.  F-bombs bursting in mid-air as my husband/caregiver and I verbally slash at each other.  We are exhausted! Unless we are destitute and piss what little ...

It is difficult to write honestly.  I think that goes double when you rely upon others for your daily care.  How does one say what they really think? How do I let it all hang out, warts and all? I believe it is impossible to be positive 100% of the time.  If you knew this about me, would you still like me?  I have prided myself on my positive attitude in the face of this freight train of a disease.  And I am ashamed of my negative emotions.  But I feel I shall burst apart in the clichéd million tiny pieces if I hold in all of this pain. In the past few weeks I have cried so many tears, literally gagging on my emotions that erupt out of me at inopportune times.  My mate does little to try to stem the flow, except that he doesn't want me to scream too loudly so the neighbors know what's going on, or write about my pain so that family or friends are alerted. Is it that he is abusive? Yes. And truthfully, so am I. Pride? Hardly! Bald-faced truth. ...

I am not-so-independent but wish I were more so.  Stopped driving due to the rapid onset and pervasive weakness especially in my right-dominate hand.  Sold my Harley Davidson Deluxe and Subaru Outback, shopping for an economical wheelchair van (Dodge or Chrysler?).  Legs getting weak, balance is not-so-good but I do all I can to preserve what I have: good nutrition, supplements, water aerobics, arthosage and manual ligament therapy. I'm getting limited care at the University of Washington in Seattle but get nowhere when I've mentioned voice-banking.  Hmmm.  Considering Virginia Mason as most of my PALS friends get fabulous care. We are active in our local ALS support group. I am on social security disability and Medicare (which I've paid into all of my working years) but I lost my job at the onset of my symptoms.  Was working as an accountant for a small mfg business who tried to coerce me to commit blatant fraud.  I got super-stressed as I held t...

I suppose when one stares into the face of their own mortality, they ask themselves, "How will I be remembered?".  I did.  And I realize that I haven't an iota of control in that arena.  People will judge me as they will; by deeds, or the lack thereof.  I'm not even certain how I would want to be thought of if I were granted that power. Add caption I would like to think that I was a pleasant person for the most part though no one can claim a lifetime of pleasantness.  There were certainly many times when I was a pissant.  I'd like to think that pleasant outweighs pissant by a ton on my scorecard and that I don't count too heavily on my intentions. I think I would like a shot at telling my story myself rather than have it told through others whom I may not have made my views clear to.  People have tried to tell me my views my whole life.  They have often made the mistake that by not verbally opposing them that I share their views.  T...

Back in April 2012, I detailed a deteriorating health condition that was causing loss of strength, muscle spasms, and a whole lot of angst surrounding a decision I made to file a Labor & Industries claim.  On September 11th, while our country was re-counting our losses when those airplanes hit the twin towers, I experienced my own personal 9-Eleven.  My third EMG administered by a neurologist revealed that my supposed "nerve pinch in my neck" was much more grave than I could possibly realize...He told me that I had ALS or Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (a.k.a. Lou Gehrig's disease). If you are unaware of the details of this disease then you are not alone.  I only knew that it was a death sentence and I was emotionally "knocked off my feet".  My anguish knew no bounds as I tried to catch my breathe so I could drive myself home.  I walked into my doctor's office holding out hope that they would locate the errant nerve root and fix it even if it meant t...

Attended a funeral today. A friend passed away peacefully, not at all the way I thought he would go, if I ever thought about it. It always feels rather odd when somebody "bigger-than-life" departs from said life. There's a funny little void left behind even if you didn't see them all the time. Even if they pissed you off at some point and you thought they didn't matter all that much. People matter. I saw an estranged friend, one who departed my life on her own accord. I said hello and was amazed that she bothered to return the hello. She's been ignoring me for a long time. I still don't want to waste any time on her but the pang of regret was there, greatly diminished, but truly still there. People matter. My husband called to see if he could bring home some dinner. I was compelled to tell him not to pass away anytime soon. He said that he had not immediate plans. I'll bet our dearly departed didn't have any immediate plans either. Very sa...

(even without children) 1). Get up with alarm at 5:30 am (hit knees to ask God to direct my day), 2). Get self ready for work, (place a load of laundry in the washer), 3). Go to the bathroom, (clean out the toilet, pick-up any towels and put up new ones), 4). Grab lunch from refrigerator, prepare a nutritious breakfast of yogurt or whole grain cereal, (pick-up previous night's mess, time permitting), 5). Drive to work, stop off at Starbucks or Cutter's Point for a decent cup of coffee, 6). Work a full-time work schedule with a half hour lunch break, 7). Clock-out of work, stop off at bank and/or post office for the office on the way home, 8). Make any number of side trips on the way home such as: nursing home to visit husband's mother (drop off payment once-per-month); grocery store if something needed to make dinner or for the weekly shopping; Sam's Club for monthly AA cake and/or stop off at Chase to deposit weekly AA monies; Reber Ranch to pick-up wild bird f...

What a day! A friend of mine is planning her husband's birthday, sends him off to ride motorcycles with his buddies, by the afternoon, she gets the news that he was killed in a tragic accident on the highway. I'm just blown away by how quickly life can change (for all of us). It put me mindful of petty disagreements and strife my husband and I have been dealing with. I was still nursing some spite from seemingly thoughtless remarks. Right away I resolved to let it go and re-focus on what is important....our love for each other and the celebration of it. My husband noted my attitude change immediately upon his arrival from work and seemed to "get it" when I told him of the loss of our mutual friend. We lovingly reconnected over the weekend and spoke often of our recently departed friend. I am so sorry for her loss, their loss, our loss. And at the same time, I am so very grateful for another day of life on this earth with my loved one, my Rodney, nobod...

The verdict is in (as far as I'm concerned) it is possible to experience relief for "fallen arches" by going to a massage therapist who specializes in plantar fasciitis. I've been dealing with foot pain for eight months solid. I've avoided the gym at all costs so as not to inflame my condition. (Yeah, I tried to power through it.) And then I tried to baby it by avoiding all stretching and flexing in an effort to allow it to "heal". I've had 2 (count it...1 and 2) visits and have experienced a 95% reduction in pain symptoms. I feel like in another visit or 2, I may be 100% pain free and "free to roam about the country" in a manner I have been quite accustomed to. I hope never to take my health for granted again. It is wonderful to be getting "fixed". First, knocking out the vitamin D deficiency-induced depression and now...Good-bye plantar fasciitis. Life is good indeed.

Today was the day of my annual physical. I have been tortured by depression and racked with guilt. I finally marched into my doctor and laid it all out to her - all of the ugliness of emotion. She ran all of the tests and wouldn't you know...my depression has a root cause. It was physical. I had a pretty serious vitamin D deficiency. Good Lord! I had heard that people in the Pacific Northwest were likely candidates but could I really have it? I thought not. Boy, was I ever wrong. This has been one of the coldest springs on record for this area and my house is shaded on two sides by tall trees. I'm growing a lawn of moss on my rooftop for goodness sake! Heck yes I could have it! I'm starting a routine of taking 8,000 IU of vitamin D3 each day and what a turnaround my mood has taken. My feelings of worthlessness and self-pity are disappearing. I don't seem to have to keep "winding myself up" like they talk about on the TV commercials touting drug th...

I decided to do a little shopping today since Thursday is my 10th wedding anniversary. Rod and I talked about doing our shopping in Portland (to save the sales tax) but I began thinking about how the majority of my shopping trips go with my husband...they suck! He gets bored easily and let's just face it, he doesn't want to spend the money. I'm glad I took this route even though I will likely "pay for it" later in disapproving looks and backhand comments. I shopped the clearance racks (of course). I knew I had gained weight and expected to be buying big stuff and didn't want to spend a lot on stuff that I hopefully won't be wearing for very long. (Do you hear that psyche? I expect to go DOWN in size.) However, it is one day before my dot (a.k.a. period) and I wasn't exactly rockin' the racks. Crap!!! I guess that means my weight isn't just gonna evaporate away on it's own. I might have to actually make a commitment. I guess I got...

I finally got the courage to take those fabulous hand-knit headbands that I made to the person who commissioned them. They were sooooooo well received that I have to ask myself why I hesitated. One of her daughters (pictured here) started wearing hers immediately and I promptly got another commission along with advice to make up a selection to sell on Etsy.com. Why do I doubt my abilities?

My fingers have done their walking...through countless pages of knitting books and binders of patterns...through the virtual pages of Ravelry.com and Google. I've enlisted the help of the knitting group at my local yarn store (LYS). It has been days that have gelled into weeks which hopefully won't melt into months. I'm in search of inspiration. I'm hoping to be struck with that glorious divine energy when I'm powerless to stop my fingers from wrapping delicious fiber around smooth knitting needles or a gleaming crochet hook. My quest began with my desire to knit a summer tank top for my baby girl, my 23-year-old baby girl. That perfect pattern hasn't materialized, yet. I diverted my attention to other tasks. A few days later, the itch to knit is strong and if I'm not casting on a tank, then I'm willing to go on to other things. So, I dig into my stash to see if inspiration strikes. A few possibilities pop out at me. I cast on a Clapotis and quic...

I have been paralyzed by pain over several losses; the loss of a couple of close friendships, the loss of my job, and the alienation of my extended family. This paralysis has been so for the past year and I am deeply ashamed by this pain and my position. Although I have avenues with which to deal with this kind of crippling pain (I have alternately chosen to use them then discard them). As a consequence I have stayed in the pain only experiencing momentary reprieves. This pain has left me feeling alien, "apart from", and unworthy. After prayer and a hot meditative bath (and a pile of books). It appears that I may have found my trouble....me. I am the cause of my own pain. I am harsh and critical of those who are close to me, not always in so many words but in my heart. They probably feel it. It's my Achilles' heel. Sometimes, irregardless of whether life is good or bad, I peer out at the world and find fault and blame. If only these people would listen....

Getting ready for Valentine's Day . Okay, I admit that this is rare but I am actually prepared for Valentine's Day this year. Both Valentine's Day AND my Valentine's Birthday (a week later). So how about that?! I'm amazed. I'll admit it. Normally I procrastinate both of these blessed events. I waffle, stammer, and complain that my man is just too difficult to buy for (or knit for). He wants things like...a camper window purchased from a part-time vendor on E-bay. (No thanks, too risky.) Or a batch of molasses cookies. (Much too easy and common in our household. I make those quite frequently to show him that I love him.) Or he says that he just wants "Peace". (This request usually leaves me feeling under-appreciated like he's alluding that I am some kind of harpy. Gee, Honey, now I really want to make your special day pleasant.) Here's a hint, don't ask for peace if you really want it. Speaking of hints, he's dying to kno...