I Have Hope

Hope.

I have hope this morning.


For me this is a fleeting thing. As quickly passing as a random thought. It fades out of my grasp as mysteriously as a dream. I can write down all of its twists and turns while it hangs tenuously in my mind‘s eye. But after a few moments, even the words on paper cannot quite bring into focus the images that I was so desperate to record.


So I hold on tight to that feeling while its there. So tight that it hurts. So tight and with such a fear of it’s loss that my body seems to cramp with the effort. Perhaps the desperation and crushing hold only makes matters worse, less tenable.


I'm not sure what it is I have hope for, but I have it. Perhaps it's the hope that things will be better. Life will change. Walls won't crumble and leave me exposed. I will have a place of safety that isn't suffocating, not claustrophobic and the air will be fresh rather than stale. I can open the drapes and enjoy a potted plant. I will go into the yard and actually pause and feel the sun. I will go Christmas shopping in the daylight.


I have hope that family will see me as an addition to the foundation rather than a weakness to the insulation. That they will think of me as a help not a hindrance. That my countinence on a bad day will not keep loved ones away on a good day. That when I come to mind it’s my smile they think of rather than my frown. They will not be a ashamed of the lazy cow in the back room. I will not forever be a whisper. I have HOPE that they will someday, stop punishing me for being me.


I have hope that extended family will not murmur my name as if I’m in a house full of cats on a hill. That they will not hold my offense against those that surround me. That they will not confuse mental health with intelligence. That they will research instead of assume. That they won’t look to Hollywood for an example. That they will not forget the girl I was. I pray that they do not think me short on faith or failing in devotion. Someday they won’t think “call before you come” means “don’t call us, we’ll call you”. I hope that they will discover that I like to be part of their communications online, even though I don’t go to family reunions, holidays or talk on the phone. I have HOPE that they will someday, stop punishing me for being me.


I have hope that the world will forgive me for what I am.



I have hope. I have hope.

brilliant living color

Meet Judy Jane and Sigh, my angels.

Yesterday was a good day, a blessed day and it was in color.

It started out looking awful. Mom had an appointment with her cardiologist about the new pacemaker/defribulator they connected to her heart. I was just not looking forward to it and don’t usually go to appointments with her. But I wanted to make sure I understood how it worked and what the prognosis is.

Mom's understanding was that her heart was too far gone for a pacemaker, so we were confused as to why they put one in her chest. But in fact mom’s heart rate is too fast and a pacemaker doesn’t kick in until it goes too slow. Oh! But that wasn’t the end of the surprising little tid bits we got from the delightful young lady that is my mom’s cardiologist.

First she explained how once a day the DF (I will shorten defribulator to df, cause’ I’m lazy) will get a phone call everyday from the manufacturer and it will download mom’s heart activity, run a diagnostic and then forward the whole mess to mom’s df “specialist”. Then, if I understand correctly, the specialist can tweak the programming if need be and update the puppy the next time the df gets a phone call. HOW COOL IS THAT?

All it needs is a free landline and it calls her “heart” every night between four and seven a.m. to check in. Yes, even mama's heart gets phone calls. I just love technology. She can travel to 120 different countries and it will contact her there and do it’s thing. I had no idea things were moving quite that fast. I knew we were testing that sort of thing, but not actually doing that sort of thing.

Mom was also under the impression that nothing had really changed, since she thought she was too sick for a pacemaker, and that all the df did was keep her alive, not make her better, so she couldn’t hope to get any stronger. This has obviously been the most difficult thing through all of this. So I just swallowed the lump in my throat and came right out and asked the doctor, “Can Mom start living again?”

The doctor looked at me in shock, turned to look at mom in puzzlement and said, “Yes! Of course! That’s what this is all about. Go out live, play, enjoy life.” She explained that it would take a little time, but she could start building her strength up and getting back to her old life as soon as she wanted. Just keep her arm below her shoulder for five more weeks until the wire is good and seated into her heart. I was so happy I was giddy.

There are some special things she needed to be aware of, like keeping a cordless phone 6 inches from her heart. She might set off alarms at airports and anti-theft things. She has a card she can present if this does happen. These things can interfere with it as well, so she needs not to linger around them, but just moving away from them will stop the interference. Some things she has to just stay away from completely but they are few. 12 inches from an induction cook-top. What’s that about?

Afterward we sat visiting in a Safeway parking lot, just enjoying the easy breaths and playing with the dog. Mom's new caregiver was with us and she has been another blessing bestowed on the family. She fits right in and doesn't seem at all shocked by our strange little family. Although, personally, I think she's just good at hiding her puzzlement.

Then we went to the library and Mom waited in the car. I went into the library with Avon and without Mom and was in and out in 10 minutes, just grabbing stuff off the shelf lol. Avon must have thought me a not very discriminating shopper. But I saw a favorite author and a new line I just had to check out. I went in without Mom, and that hasn’t happened in ten years. Ironic? Isn't it grand?

It was one of those days that is experienced in brilliant living color. I thank God for my mother and his gifts of intelligence and ingenuity, that are keeping her with us. Mostly I thank Him for things like parking lot conversations with your best friend and your dog and hugs and smiles and living color.



My angels. When they're not propping me up, they're propping each other up :)