More, Please

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." ~ Leo Buscaglia

How often does it happen when you hear something you consider to be a nice compliment at the beginning of your day, and by the end of the day you receive an even bigger and better compliment to cap things off?

Today was the day that happened for me!

I probably shouldn't be so giddy over it - making way more out of it than it really is - but I can't help it... it was compliment! It was two compliments! In the end it was even more! And they all made me feel happy.

I went to get my eyes checked this morning and when the Optometrist's assistant was beginning the appointment with me she first asked how old I was. Lately, when people ask me that question - how old are you? - I ask them, "How old do you think I am?"

Of course, most of the time you have to know that they will say a lower answer than may be in their mind so as not to offend. Anyway, the assistant answered my question by telling me, "I think you're 35." So, taking into account the possibility of her "generosity factor," (although she assured me that is what she truly thought) I added another five years and I still came out having someone think I was 40 years old! Sweet, I thought, and I felt the compulsion to text my sister my "good" news! Hahaha!!!

Well, later in the day, at noon, I went to the appointment I had scheduled with my hypnotist/counselor, Z. (OMG, Z. is so amazingly wonderful I'll have to write solely about her in another post!) and when I rang the bell (Z.'s office is in her home) I was quite surprised when her husband answered the door. She had mentioned her husband, so I knew she had one. In fact, I even knew that he was Italian, but I had been to her house five times so far and had never once heard or seen anything of him.

I told him I was there for my appointment with Z. and he told me that I must have the wrong time as she always has something scheduled elsewhere at that time. I looked through my purse and found my pocket calendar and yes, indeed, I had come at the wrong time. I had written in my calendar my appointment was at 2:00 PM. I apologized and told him I would be back later.

I only live about five or six minutes away so it was no real inconvenience. I spent the time before going back at 2:00 to get together a few pieces of artwork I wanted to give to Z.

And then, I arrived back at Z.'s house, promptly at 2:00 PM, rang the bell, the door opened, and it was Z.'s husband once again! He tells me Z. will be home momentarily, motions for me to take a seat in the parlor ((Z.'s  home - is a huge, beautiful old Victorian, with lovely, floor-to-ceiling dark wood, and beautiful, old, handwoven Middle Eastern-type rugs though out both the downstairs - which I pass by on my way to the upstairs - stairs that lead up to where she has her office) and asks me if I need anything. I tell him, thank you for asking, but no, I will be fine. And he leaves.

Within minutes Z. arrives and she tells me that our appointment is not for 2:00 PM, but rather 3:00. She says she could do it then, but because I live so close, I just tell her that it is not a problem, that I will be back in an hour, and I leave.

Wow, I am really on a roll of completely messing up this appointment (but with all the appointments I have it isn't at all surprising that I should make mistakes).

Needless to say, I go back for the third time at 3:00 PM, ring the bell, the door opens and, yay, it's Z.!

As I follow Z. up the staircase she turns back to me and says, "I asked my husband how old he thought you were." And I responded, "How old did he say?" "23," she replied.

By that point we were up to her office and I tell her how funny it was that someone in the morning had told me I looked 35 and I was pleased by that, but having someone think I was 23 made my day! (Have I told you that my boss thinks I'm 32 - he told me he wanted to say 28, but he thought I was too wise for 28 - and his assistant, whom I've also worked with for a year now, thinks I'm 28! And the amazing thing is, my boss has a 25 year old daughter, and his assistant is 40 years old herself!)

Anyway, after the counseling part of my session and before the hypnosis part started, I told Z. that I was curious as to why she asked her husband how old I was. She told me that she thinks her husband is very perceptive and "attuned" to people, that he "reads" people well. So, she said, she first asked him what his impression of me was, what his perception regarding me was? And Z. told me that he had thought two things: that I had both a child-like quality about me and that I was wise (which Z. said, she, too believes to be true). That's when, she said to me, she asked him, "Well, how old do you think she is?" And he had replied, "23."

I know I needed that! It was like a sign to have both people, on the same day, say they thought I looked much younger than I am. And the reason is because C. may be coming home within the next month or so! And, as you know, C. is much younger than I am.

I think I had been trying to get myself to be open to C. and my age difference (it seems to be much more of a block for me than for him!), that I was subconsciously (even consciously!) doubting how we could possibly work out - that is if we ever do come together... though I am planning for the eventuality that we will! And I guess I just feel that today was an affirmation that I don't have to have doubts about that - about my age versus his - that people won't view me as his freak'n mother! That, yes, people seeing us out will obviously know that I am older, but that they won't have any idea that I am a great deal older than he is... 

Knowing that C. is younger, but having virtually no child-like quality about him (he wants to have such a thing, but his seriousness seldom allows for it!) and I am older, but do have that ability to be young-at-heart, so child-like curious and imaginative and open, I think does give me the belief that it is possible that he and I could someday be an "us."

Afternote: At the end of my appointment with Z. I asked her why she felt her husband thought I had a child-like quality about me, and why he had thought I was wise? And she told me that it wasn't just that I looked much younger than my age, but that I had the "essence" of being much younger; of having the capacity to feel, and see, life, and the world around me, in a different way, which was unique and good. And she said to me that I was wise; that I was very thoughtful in my thinking, that I was smart, and alluded that I seemed to "know" things beyond my years. 

It's funny, well, not funny, but rather, interesting, because I needed to hear what she she thought it was that her husband had perceived, and what her insight about it was, because often there is no worse enemy of myself than me. I needed to have that affirmation, too. I needed to hear another compliment, especially from somebody "outside looking in." 

Yes, I'd say that today started off by hearing something nice from a stranger, and ended up by hearing something even nicer from another stranger, Z.'s husband. Today was a good day! More, please!

Whatever it Takes...

"Success doesn't come to you... you go to it." ~ Marva Collins

Remember when I had my anaphylactic shock episode back in March? In a previous post I talked about how it threw off my period, wherein I thought I had ovulated in that month, but I never had a period. 

But I had also explained that my doctors told me that the high dose of steroids that were given to me were most likely the reason as to why I didn't have my period.

Later, I had written a post telling of my worry about being completely thrown off as to where I was in my cycle. I didn't have any idea when I was actually going to have another period. 

I had felt like I ovulated in April, but, as I told my doctor, I thought that I should have had my period already, and yet it hadn't come. 

Anyway, as I told you, my doctor had given me and rx for both progesterone pills and progesterone cream. At that Thursday appointment she had said that if my period didn't start by the upcoming Monday night to start the pills.

Well, as you may recall in that post, My Cycle, I had not wanted to take the pill. To me that would mean that I wasn't having normal cycles still and I wanted to be having normal cycles!!! 

I wrote in that post that I had heard a "voice" telling me not to take the pill, to wait - that I would have my period start normally. I listened to the voice, didn't take the pill, and my period started the next morning.

I felt really joyful about my period starting naturally. That's what I wanted, and that's what I got.

But then something out of the norm happened. On day 13-16 I had brown discharge. It was as if I was having a period, but it wasn't normal - in days or in color! So, I was completely confused (and bummed!) by that turn of events.

My doctors' still felt that the high dose of steroids I was given were having an impact on how my hormones were working, and still "throwing things off," but it didn't help me in feeling any less frustrated.

Dr. M. has been checking my hormone levels regularly so she could see that my estrogen was good, my FSH was good, but she felt like my progesterone was low. Since my progesterone was low she wanted me to start the progesterone cream, which I did. And exactly 28 days from the previous day 13 "period" I had a "normal" period.

You have to remember, my general practice doctor, Dr. M., conceived her last child at age 45 and had him when she was 46 years old. So, as she told me, she has a lot of knowledge from her own personal experience in knowing how to "work" the fertility hormone system. After all, she had four or five miscarriages before she got herself on the right regime and had her healthy child.

In other words, I trust Dr. M. If she feels like I'm still "in the game," then I know I'm still "in the game!" And she does feel like I'm still in the game!

But she also feels that I will probably have to continue using the progesterone cream from here on out. 

Hearing that news was disappointing, but if it is going to help me ovulate, have that sperm reach, and fertilize, that healthy little egg, let me have a healthy pregnancy, and deliver a healthy baby or babies, then I'm going to do whatever it takes! 

I truly feel like I'm blessed to have Dr. M. be so personally insightful on exactly what needs to be done to best help my hormone levels. I do believe she can get them to be at the levels they need to be at to achieve my dream. 

After all, Dr.M. has gone through a similar (albeit, at a younger age) situation and come out of it with the child she so desperately wanted. I think of it as being part of God's miracle plan for me. And I'm thankful that I dream in miracles!

Glass Half Full

"You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you." ~ Walt Disney

I had mentioned in an earlier post that my surgical wound got infected and my G.P. doctor put me on a prescription of Keflex, a strong enough antibiotic to heal the infection. I started the medicine June 4th and I didn't have my follow-up/post-op appointment with my surgeon until June 11th.

By the time I saw the surgeon the infection was pretty much healed. I did show her close up photos of the wound so that she could see that there was definitely an infection going on. And she did see that, was glad that I had gotten on the antibiotics, and was now doing well.

I had wondered why I got an infection there in the first place, so that was one of the first questions I asked of her. I wondered if I had done anything to cause the infection, such as lifting too much, etc., or what else could have allowed it to happen.

She told me that I had not done anything to cause the infection. She said, "Only 1% of surgical cuts develop an infection. So that means 99% of the people don't get an infection." That's what she told me. I have no idea if those are accurate statistics, but it doesn't matter, she is a surgeon and she quoted those numbers from her surgical experience. Straight from the surgeon's mouth: only 1% of people get a surgical infection, and 99% of people do not get a surgical infection, after surgery.

So, I'm going to ask you a question and this is a test! It is a test to see how well you know me. And I mean really know me. If you get the question wrong, there is no penalty! If you get the question right, there is no prize! And really, it's a tough question because it is asking you to think like I think. So, really I'm not sure if anyone can answer the question correctly; it's hard enough to understand oneself, much less another! Nevertheless, here goes - the question:

What do you think my first thought was when I heard the surgeon tell me that I was in a group of 1% out of hundred who got an infection as a negative result after surgery?

I'll give you a minute to consider your answer; to take a moment and try to think like I think....

Okay, times up.

The answer to the question of, what was the first thought I had after my surgeon told me that I was in a group of 1% out of hundred who got an infection as a negative result after surgery was:

OMG!!! I can not believe that I am in the 1% out of a hundred! Granted it would seem a negative position to be in, but that's not what my mind thought. My mind immediately said, "L. if you can be in the 1% of people out of hundred for some negative thing, you can be in the 1% out of hundred for some  positive thing!" And that 1% positive thing is getting pregnant at my age!

Really, I kid you not, I was ecstatic. To me, believe it or not, it was like a sign.

I can remember back in July of 2009 when I talked to the doctor in Chicago about freezing my eggs and he told me that there was only a 1% chance that I would get pregnant. And my immediate response back to him was, "I'm going to be in that 1%!"

So, yeah, as crazy as it may seem to you,  I felt really kinda lucky; lucky that I now had positive verification that I could actually be unique enough to be one in a hundred - it didn't matter to me that it was not a good thing in this particular instance - to me it was positive; it was all about the glass being half full!

June 9, 2013

"Even when God seemed to have abandoned me, He was watching. Even when He seemed indifferent to my suffering, He was watching. And when I was beyond all hope of saving, He gave me rest. Then He gave me a sign to continue my journey." ~  Life of Pi (Yann Martel)

A long time ago now, January, 27, 2013, to be exact, I wrote a post called, Guided. In that post I had said that I asked my angels and spirit guides to come to me in a dream and give me the date of something that I hoped would happen in my near future. I had said I need to be provided with a clear understanding of the date. 

During the night, well actually it was in the morning, just before I woke up, I did have a dream with definite numbers in it. In my post I had written that those numbers were first a six and then a nine. And my mind immediately decided that I had been given the date of 6/9, or June 9, 2013.

So much has happened in my life since then, but I was still very curious as to see what, if anything, would happen on June 9, 2013, which would be connected to what I had hoped would happen. In my, Guided, post I didn't share with you what that hope was... I just told you that it was something I hoped for; something I wanted.

Well, what I had hoped for, when I had asked my angels and spirit guides for that clear date was: I wanted to know if C. would come back into my life and I wanted the date as to when that might be.

You have to remember, January 13, 2013, C. had completely written his final goodbye to me. He wrote that he had chosen his childhood love over me and wished me well in my future life. In this note to me he had left no room for any future correspondence.

However, I believed that C. would write me back. Again, it was only my intuition, that made me think so. But I believed it so much that the day he broke things off with me FOREVER, I wrote a "vacation response" email.

For those who aren't familiar with what a "vacation response" email is, its primarily used in business situations, when you want to tell your client that you are away from the office for an extended period of time, etc. - it's set up automatically - if an email comes in from someone, that person gets this pre-setup  response immediately sent back to them.

So, that evening, believing - but by no means knowing - that I would hear from C. again, I wrote my "vacation response." I wrote it not having any idea when that day might come, whether it would be many weeks or many months, in the future, when C. would write me an email and he would get this response automatically sent back to him:


Hi! I am currently on an adventure!!!  Guess where I'm going? To visit the sun and the moon and stars above! After my visit I will transport back with me the ability to put smiles on faces and bring love and beauty to dismal places!  

BTW, If you you take the time to look for me while I'm gone... you may find me! If you see a shooting star flash across the blackened sky, well, that's probably me just saying, "Hi!" 

I will respond back to any emails sent to me as soon as possible upon my return.

Love, 

Me : )

Well, it turned out that it took just under three weeks, February 2, 2013,  for C. to write me back. Yes, I thought he would, I just did not think it would happen as quickly as it did. 

Anyway, I haven't written much about C. in my blog posts since then. In fact, I think the last time I wrote anything about him was at the beginning of March. I didn't want to write about him. I had done that. It was a disaster and I didn't feel like repeating it!

However, C. and I have been corresponding regularly since he came back into my life in February. I still have no idea what, if anything, will actually happen between the two of us when he does get back to town (I think now that might be sometime in July), and thus, I have just tried to keep my feelings about him and our relationship private.   

So, I had thought way back in January, when I had asked my angels and spirit guides for a clear date as to when C. would come back into my life, I had gotten that date, June 9, 2013. I didn't know if it meant I wouldn't hear from C. until June 9th, or if I would finally come together with him on that date, or if it would just be something else having to do with him! I just thought June 9, 2013, would have some answer given to me, regarding C.

Well, C. was already communicating with me, so I knew that didn't have any meaning related to June 9th. And I knew that C. was still deployed so, we weren't going to finally be coming together on that date. Really, there wasn't much left for me to think that June 9th actually had any meaning at all, at least anything to do with C.!!!

So, yes, I was coming to the realization that although I definitely got those numbers, six and nine, in my dream, I had to consider that they really didn't have any meaning!

But, I will say, two things did happen on June 9, 2013, and though not "off the charts" in any way as far as being some "big" sign, I do think, that each of them, was a "little" sign. So, I'd like to share what those two things were. The first did have to do with C. It was a message I got from him that said:

From: C. 
To: L.
Sent: Sunday, June 9, 2013 6:54 PM
Subject: Re: Have you?

DOD LINK

Dear L., Absolutely, I do.  I trust you with myself, my heart, my family -------, --------, ... in fact, all that I have or ever hope to have, because I trust you ... implicitly and totally.  Got that? 


So, I do consider that a feeling that C., had never expressed to me in such clear, and definite terms, was "different" and I did take that as being something... 

And the next small thing that happened on June 9, 2013, had nothing at all to do with C., Nevertheless, it still had meaning to me. 

The second thing that happened on June 9, 2013, was strange and definitely out of the norm. 

The day before, Saturday, I had written a post explaining that I had finally gotten the name of a hypnotist in my town that also dealt with "regressions" and helping people in overcoming medical issues. Her name is Z., and she told me that she would call me back on Sunday to schedule an appointment to see her.

Z. did call me on Sunday and we made an appointment for Wednesday, tomorrow! But after scheduling the appointment she needed to explain where she was located and directions how to get there. 

I was fairly familiar with the area in which she was located. She asked me what direction I would be coming from. I told her my neighborhood. So she explained that I would be taking this road and I would cross a bridge. She described the bridge very thoroughly as if it meant something to her. 

What I mean to say is, she didn't just say, you cross the bridge then go two more miles, take the left at XY Street, etc.  

Z. said, "You will go down the road and you will cross this really cute bridge that has old-fashioned lamppost along each side of it, it is really pretty, then you will go two miles... etc. 

As Z. described this particular bridge, and as I said, I felt like she seemed kind of, I want to say, almost inspired by it. I couldn't keep quiet. I hardly ever say anything about why this particular bridge is special to me. I'm too humble to do so. But like I said, I couldn't keep quiet. 

I told Z., "That bridge is my father's bridge." Then she gushed further about how unique and pretty it was. She loved the architecture of it, she continued. I thought she might be under the impression that my father was the architect of the bridge. I told her, "No, he wasn't the architect. The bridge is named after my father for all the work he did for over 40 years in the community. It was a way for him to be honored as a legacy of the heart and soul he gave to this city." 

As, I said, and even though the bridge has signs on both ends stating my father's name on them, and written as designated by the State Legislature, I rarely ever mention that there is any connection to me and it. I am deeply proud of my father's committed efforts, but, I think I'm like him, too humble to ever "toot one's own horn." But, this time, with Z. I felt compelled to  say, "Toot, toot!" 

And, I think, I really had the sense that somehow, on this day, June 9, 2013, I did get another sign, this one from my father, connecting with me, by having this random woman give me a very detailed description of "his" bridge as a landmark to guide me in the direction I needed to go - literally, and metaphorically.

Looking, but not Looking

"Every search begins with beginner's luck. And every search ends with the victor's being severely tested." ~ Paulo Coelho 

I went to my Yahoo account and they have headlines that can sometimes catch your eye when signing in to access your email. Usually I ignore the articles from these headlines because I'm there to check on my email! But occasionally one will catch my eye and I feel the pull of checking out what the headline means (Yahoo reels you in by "tantalizing" you with the headline - you actually have to click on it to get to the "answer" to what the headline alluded to!) 

So, anyway, I got reeled in by this headline:

and then for some reason felt like I wanted to know "the why?" I clicked on the headline and began reading the article. 

And I read the following in the second paragraph: "That honor still belongs to former Groveland (Fla.) South Lake High star Jeff Demps, whose time of 10.01 seconds at the 2008 U.S. Olympic trials still ranks as the U.S. No. 1 prep time in history." 

Okay, you might be saying, what's the significance of that? But, if you've come to "know" me you probably can make a pretty good guess. And the right guess would be: that record is still held by a different kid and his record-breaking time is, ta da... 10.01.  

I'm just writing this because I just want to reiterate how often I see 10.01 (my birthdate 10/01), in one fashion or another. 

I could have easily passed on that article. Really, what did I really care about it - only a vague sense of curuiousity - but I didn't. And seeing 10.01 was the result of following this passing thought in my mind at that time, instead of ignoring it and moving on. 

Anyway, I see 10.01 so often, like I said, in so many different ways, and I have told you that seeing that number has, for the past nine months or so, represented to me: be on the look out; a sign is coming. And then of course, a few months ago I decided to find out what these number I kept repeatedly seeing meant and that led me here which I always find interesting, but even better, hopeful. 

So, yeah, I was given a small sign, AND, I get to be on the look out for more!

Another (small) Sign

"Don't be discouraged. It's often the last key in the bunch that opens the lock. " ~ Unknown

And just as an aside, I was made aware of the clock again in the afternoon at 5:55 PM (these particular numbers have become very prevalent recently). Curious, I looked up what those numbers "mean." And this is what my angels gave me as another small, but hopeful, "sign." 

"The repeating number 555 indicates that major life changes are in store for you – in a very big way!  Angel Number 555 tells us that significant changes and transformations are here for you and you have an opportunity to break out of the chrysalis and uncover the amazing life you truly deserve as a spiritual being.  Your true life purpose and path 
are awaiting you …"

The Dark Night of the Soul

....the endurance of darkness is preparation for great light. ~ St. John of the Cross

My mom has often told me, in my times of suffering, that I was experiencing a "Dark Night of the Soul." I had no idea what that meant. She tried to tell me, I guess in an attempt to encourage me, that I had so long endured, during different times in my life, this darkness because God must feel a special connection to me; that He had deep purpose for my life, but that He must feel I needed to be tested in order to truly fulfill what that purpose was. 

I didn't pay my mother much mind because it didn't feel, during these times, that God cared for me at all.

I had read several years ago a book, Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light: The Private Writings of the Saint of Calcutta. Mother Teresa, that saintly woman, who went into the slums of India to be a servant to the poorest of the poor. She always did her work in the slums with a smile and what appeared to be a true light about her. The book consisted of the correspondence, in letters, between Mother Teresa and a few different people, but mainly with the few priests, who through many years, were her main confidants.

I'm telling of reading this book right now because, unbeknownst to the world, and nearly every single person closest to her, Mother Teresa suffered a "Dark Night of the Soul" for nearly fifty years! In other words, she did the work of God, while at the same time keeping the secret that she spent almost 50 years without sensing the presence of Him in her life!!!

It was astonishing for me to read of this lack of God's love, that a woman whom many would consider as being a modern day saint, felt. She felt that God didn't love her; that he had abandoned her! But she still kept true to what she felt was what God had called her to do: be the lowliest of servant to the lowliest of human beings.

But I hadn't thought of these last three years of my illness: the severe, chronic nausea that never leaves my body completely, and sometimes, like these past few weeks, makes me feel as if death is near - as being my "Dark Night of the Soul." That is until today.

I have struggled these past several weeks with my illness, feeling as if I was going backwards, instead of forward in my attempt at getting well. The surgery I had was just some small thing thrown into the middle of my real battle.

I even remember telling my mom, when she told me that family members had said they would be praying for me during my operation, that what I really needed, more than anything else, was for them to  be praying for me about my real illness; my nausea.

In the past few weeks of suffering (and I can't call it anything other than that) I have lost probably twelve pounds. I had felt happy before as I saw my weight go up close to what I consider to be my optimum. But then I gradually saw that feeling of success slowly go away. I was once again feeling gauntly.

But it was yesterday and today in which I became fully broken. I was so sick, so physically and mentally sick of being sick that I called my neuropsychiatrist, Dr. T., and left a message telling her I didn't see a way of going on, I was crying in sadness at that fact and spoke little more before I hung up. I sat on my bed for a moment, lost in my misery, and then I realized that I better call her back and leave another message telling her that I wasn't going to harm myself. I knew I could't do that.

But today when I woke up, and that same overwhelming sickness enveloped me, I had nothing left to tell myself - to bring my mind out of the darkness. So I didn't even try. I just began to talk to God. I asked Him to take me. I told Him I was ready to go. I was ready to be with Him. I remember saying to Him that everybody has their time to die and that I would like Him to let it be my time now. I just kept repeating over and over, "I'm ready."

And I  was ready. I no longer felt, that strong and deep desire, I had held in my heart for so long - to be married and have a biological child, or children, of my own - I didn't want anything but to let God take me away.

I barely even cried, I was too busy begging. Begging God to let it be my time to go. Begging Him to take me away from where I now was. Promising Him that I was ready; I was ready to go.

But as I lay there on my bed, questioning everything about God and me - about our relationship and what He expected of me. I told Him, "If you decide this isn't my time and You aren't going to take me to You, then You have to give me a Big Sign to let me have some kind of hope that I will get well." And so now I am expecting that Big Sign to come to me in the next week or so. I will be looking for it. I will be believing that it will come.

Not long after my plea with God ended, my neuropsychiatrist called me. She was concerned and wanted to know how I was. I told her that I was past a place where my mind could try to reach for anything positive any longer. That I was at my darkest hour.

I know I've written a lot about all the different therapies I have tried over this past three years to get better - both Eastern and Western medical modalities. But I'm not sure if I've ever written about having had a conversation with a woman one time who had asked me about my mother's pregnancy while I was in the womb. I had told this woman that my mom said that I was her worst pregnancy out of the seven children she had. My mom had told me she was sick the whole nine months. And, I told this woman that my mom had five kids ages, seven to one-in-a-half, that she was trying to take care of while I was in her stomach. So, this woman told me that she thought it was quite possible that I had picked up the stress hormones, that were surely streaming throughout my mother's body, during the time of her pregnancy with me. 

I thought some on what this woman had said but I didn't see how it could help me figure out how to get better. I didn't dismiss it, but I didn't think further on it. That is until some months later when I came across an article from a medical journal that had presented the evidence showing that a cell from a mother's child was found in the brain of the woman thirty years after she had given birth! I believe this is the article that I read. And I certainly feel that it explains better than I could what the ramifications of such findings might be.

Anyway, after reading the article my mind began to think back to what this woman had spoken of: that it might be possible for me to have picked up, and presently be in my body, stress hormones my mom endured during the time of her pregnancy with me. 

Yes, it still sounded kind of crazy,  but I began to mention it to the health practitioners that I was seeing. First, I presented the idea to my chiropractor, and believe it or not, he felt like it could be a plausible connection. He said that he would try to find a hypnotherapist who did "regressions" which I basically understand as taking you back to the point of some trouble, and attempts to "re-program" your thinking - your mind - so as to see what occurred not in a negative light, and to not hold onto that feeling, whatever it may be, any longer. 

You know, as sick as I have been, and as hard as I have worked to find a way to get better, I was willing, am willing, to try just about anything. 

And, as it happened, further to my surprise, both my general practice doctor, Dr. M., my neuropsychiatrist, Dr. T., and my Chinese acupuncturist all feeling like it was also possible - these stress hormones from my mom, at the time of her pregnancy, now being a cause, maybe not the only cause, but one worth looking into, of my having ill health.

I remember my acupuncturist saying to me, after I mentioned this "theory" to her, that that was exactly the reason why pregnant woman should not smoke, or drink, or do things that aren't calming to them, because in the end, the child can bear the ramifications of any negative behaviors by the mother while pregnant. 

So, now my only problem became, that in the smaller town in which I live, though hypnotist could be found, none could be found that had experience and "certification" with regression. That is until today. 

Today, when my neuropsychiatrist called to talk to me she said that she had just come across, in an alternative health newspaper, the name of a woman whom she knew, but had completely forgotten about, who was a hypnotist and did do regression therapy. She gave me her name and number and as soon as I hung up with Dr. T., I called this woman, Z., 

Z. answered the phone and told me she wasn't in town today, but would be back tomorrow, Sunday, and would call me to talk to me more and schedule and appointment. But the best thing that happened was that after I had told her that I had nothing left in me, that I felt no hope, and that I had asked God to take me because I was ready to go, Z., said to me, "L. I just want you to know, that in my experience, whenever a person has reached that seemingly bottomless place of darkness, that is when they are actually closest to the light, closest to having things change, closest to being healed. So just hold on." 

And that was exactly what I needed to hear, I don't think it was my Big Sign, but it I do consider  that it was a small "sign" and it has allowed me to "just hold on" a little bit longer. 

When I called my neuropsychiatrist back to tell her that I had gotten in touch with Z. (she had asked me to do so) and what Z. had ended our phone conversation telling me, my doctor, Dr. T, said it reminded her of the Dark Night of the Soul. 

The Dark Night of the Soul, I thought, yes, just as my mother had tried to tell me, I have been going through my Dark Night, and when I come through it, and a miracle-believer like me should know that day will come, I will be victorious... not for myself, but for God.

I will be victorious for God. And what that may mean to me personally is only something that will be revealed as I make my way from the darkness to the Light.

I will have survived my Dark Night of the Soul and I will have come through it, by God's grace, and  for His glory.  

Ughness!

"If you break your neck, if you have nothing to eat, if your house is on fire, then you got a problem.  Everything else is inconvenience. " ~ Robert Fulghum

Ughness! My surgical wound still has the stitches in and was supposed to be healing, but I was remaining in pain. And in the last two days I noticed that an area of the cut was a pinkish color and that area was where most of my pain was coming from. I knew I didn't have a follow-up visit with my surgeon until June, 11th, but I did have an appointment with Dr. M. on Thursday, so I thought I'd just wait another day and then see Dr. M and have her tell me if she thought an infection was starting to develop or not.

But then, today, Tuesday, I get a voicemail from Dr. M's staff saying that my appointment for Thursday had to be canceled. But since I had to do something today which would take me right by her office, I decided I would just go in and have her, or her nurse, take a look at my surgical area because I really did feel like something might not be right (plus I had another question about a med that I wanted clarification on which I'll write of in another post).

So, I stop by and I'm talking to Dr. M.'s administrator, T., about the two things I really need to see Dr. M. for, and Dr. M. comes out of one of her consult rooms and says she can fit me in. I tell both of them I've got this other engagement and I'll be back after that is taken care of and their like, fine.

I get back to Dr. M.'s about forty-five minutes later, wait another ten minutes, and then I get in to see Dr. M and have her look at my surgical wound. She does think it looks like an infection is developing, but thinks it is strange that it isn't over the whole wound, it's only one part of it, and doesn't notice any oozing of pus (sorry for the TMI!) and isn't really, really red. So, she calls her nurse in to take a look, too, and her nurse, V., says it also looks like an infection is developing, and she says she does see a slight bit of oozing. Long story short, I'm now on an antibiotic and hopefully it will be strong enough to nip anything more serious in the bud.

Once again, I feel thankful for my intuition, pushing me to make sure that my wound was seen, because even though it wasn't red, red, and it didn't appear to me to be oozing anything, I still just really felt like something was not quite right and that the sooner it got looked at the better.

And as a side note (in which I wish my intuition had worked even a little bit) - a really big side note: I haven't broken my neck. I do have something to eat. But my house did catch on fire yesterday. Yes, fireman and all. 

Everything is okay, although it was quite scary, it happened so fast. I made sure my mom got out of the house. I ran back into it, trying to put out the flames (from the bar stove downstairs... it was an accident on my part!) thinking of how to do it. I remembered you're never supposed to put water on fire, it only makes things worse. But things happened so fast, you're confused, and that black smoke, soars quickly and thickly to the ceiling. 

There were burnable items that were about to be inflamed (hell, I mostly use that bar area as my printer, office space. I've never once thought of the stove as even being usable. I'm not sure that in 25 years it has been used!) I throw those in the sink, ran to get a thick blanket, threw it over the flames, had to run up stairs to get my breath, ran back down to see if the flames were dowsed at least somewhat, which they seemed to be. 

I then opened up the sliding door out to the patio, ran back up stairs to make sure my mom stayed out of the house and asking her if the firemen were, in fact, on their way! 

I ran back down the stairs, was practically mesmerized, except for the air and stench keeping me from being so, by the intenseness of the black swirling smoke moving like a river across the roof, and opened more windows in other rooms.

Finally I ran back up the stairs for the last time, went out side where my mom was sitting in a plastic chair, and laid there, on the cool concrete, feeling like my lungs were slightly scorched, out of breath and waited for what seemed like a long time until the two fire trucks arrived (from two equally distant stations). 

They went around the back of the house, made sure all flames and embers were out - I think if I hadn't have done what I did, by the time the fireman had got there that room would have been engulfed - and then put on the "fan" which supposedly cleared out the smoke, but which, probably also blew the ash seemingly, everywhere! 

I was thankful for the fireman doing what they did - make sure everything was better and give us the all clear. 

Anyway, not only do I have my little surgical infection, but I have a house that smells like burnt plastic and black ash covering every single item in half of it. And the task of cleaning it all up is overwhelming me even as I write this!

So, regarding my lead quotation: I not only do have an inconvenience, but I actually did have a problem as well!