I am in the midst of an uncontrollable panic attack. There is nothing that has happened to trigger it. I can not control it and my heart is beating out of my chest. I took a walk to the CVS by my office and they have a monitor there. My pressure was 170/100!!! It’s usually like 90/60 so the feeling that it is about to beat out of my chest is not just in my mind. It’s kind freaking me out (which, of course, fuels the panic attack).
I have really thought about what could be the cause…. Parents are doing well, husband and I are fine, money is not a problem, no issues at work, and nothing should be causing such a tremendous bout with this.
I have experienced this before; however, I can generally pin point some cause, a reasoning behind it. When that is the case I am usually able to find some clarity to help myself get over it. That is not the case today. And since I am struggling to determine the source it sort of fuels it even more so.
I have had a Xanax. Only one as I need to be able to be fully functional at work and I will need to drive the 20 miles home. I have an obligation at 6:00p tonight to practice for the Dragon Boat race this weekend so I do not have the luxury of going home and attempting to meditate and relax.
Ugh! This is of the suck
Showing posts with label Help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Help. Show all posts
20 August 2007
13 June 2007
die Stiefmutter
die Stiefmutter = Step mother
Let's set the record straight regarding the Bubbie.... He is not mine by birth... He is mine by marriage... He is six. He will be seven next month. He is by all accounts, beautiful, brilliant and quite mature for his age. That is if there is such a thing as a mature six year old...
Not being physcially able to have my own offspring increases my love for the Bubbie even more so. He is a smaller replica of mein Deutscher. Not much smaller mind you as the kid is about 4'3" (or less than a foot shorter than me if you must know).
I am sorry we do not get to see him very often; however, he lives in New Jersey so visits are hard to come by since it involves flights and possibly hotels and rental cars if we just go to see him. Gets pricey quickly... Especially if you would actually like to do something with him or (gasp) eat...
I think I am taking on the role of "Stiefmutter" quite well. I treat him with honesty, integrity and respect. I cheer his successes and kiss away the boo-boo's. It's a given that I love the Bubbie. I have known him since the day he was born. Used to baby sit for him when the German was married to his ex-wife. My whole family has embraced him as well. With my being an only child, he is the only grandchild Mama and Daddy will know. The Bubbie refers to them as Memere and Pepere, the Cajun nicknames for grandparents. The Bubbie delights in the Nana having lost his last biological great-grandparent 4 or 5 years ago. Mama, Daddy and Nana love having him around and are utterly exhausted upon his departure having played, cuddled and loved on him the entire time he visits.
With the notable exception of the cat being totally petrified of him, there is no problem in the world with the Bubbie. Wherein the problem lies is the mother of the Bubbie... She and I were never close. I was always the German's friend, not her's. I had known him for almost four years before they even met. She expects us to take the Bubbie according to what fits her schedule. She expects my German to be the one who has to take a full day off from work to pick him up while she is the one that can conveniently retrieve him on a Sunday. Do not get me wrong, mein Deutscher has no problem taking a day off from work to retrieve his son - that is not the issue. The problem is the expectation on her behalf that my German make the sacrifice of doing so to bring him for a visit because she, in her own words, "does not want to waste a vacation day". Selbstsuchtig = selfish anyone?
She does not adhere to a phone schedule with him. Mein Deutscher calls almost everyday. Usually with no joy as both the house and cell phone go unanswered. Two or three days later she will call and leave a message about how the Bubbie "did not feel like talking on the phone" for one reason or another. I get a bit huffy on that one... He is six, tell him he needs to talk to his Papa before he can watch Nick Jr or before he gets to go play outside. Even if it is just 60 seconds, I love the way my German's face lights up just hearing that little voice pipe up with "hi, Papa". Not being a full time mom or step mom, I am not sure if he is always that way; however, if it were me, my mother would tell me I needed to talk to my father before moving on to another thing... Oh wait a minute, that really did happen! Daddy traveled extensively when I was younger and that was the rule....
She approaches me with issues, questions, travel plans; however, when I breach the subject of travel first I am told I "am not his parent". True; however, fair's fair. If you approach me allow me the same courtesy to approach you. I am not trying to be his mother. He has a mother and when I married the German, I sent her a very heartfelt note telling her that I know my role is to cherish and encourage and love the Bubbie and watch out for his well being.
I am blessed to not be a product of divorce. The German is as well. None of my closest friends are the children of divorced parents nor are they step parents. Same thing with my boat-load of aunt and uncles. It is a slippery slope and I have no frame of reference for it. Never do I want to be compared to what seems to be the negatives of being a step mom. It is far too Cinderalla-esque for my tastes.
So I am calling all mom's and step mom's for advice as to how to handle the situation. Thoughts? Suggestions? All are welcome.
Let's set the record straight regarding the Bubbie.... He is not mine by birth... He is mine by marriage... He is six. He will be seven next month. He is by all accounts, beautiful, brilliant and quite mature for his age. That is if there is such a thing as a mature six year old...
Not being physcially able to have my own offspring increases my love for the Bubbie even more so. He is a smaller replica of mein Deutscher. Not much smaller mind you as the kid is about 4'3" (or less than a foot shorter than me if you must know).
I am sorry we do not get to see him very often; however, he lives in New Jersey so visits are hard to come by since it involves flights and possibly hotels and rental cars if we just go to see him. Gets pricey quickly... Especially if you would actually like to do something with him or (gasp) eat...
I think I am taking on the role of "Stiefmutter" quite well. I treat him with honesty, integrity and respect. I cheer his successes and kiss away the boo-boo's. It's a given that I love the Bubbie. I have known him since the day he was born. Used to baby sit for him when the German was married to his ex-wife. My whole family has embraced him as well. With my being an only child, he is the only grandchild Mama and Daddy will know. The Bubbie refers to them as Memere and Pepere, the Cajun nicknames for grandparents. The Bubbie delights in the Nana having lost his last biological great-grandparent 4 or 5 years ago. Mama, Daddy and Nana love having him around and are utterly exhausted upon his departure having played, cuddled and loved on him the entire time he visits.
With the notable exception of the cat being totally petrified of him, there is no problem in the world with the Bubbie. Wherein the problem lies is the mother of the Bubbie... She and I were never close. I was always the German's friend, not her's. I had known him for almost four years before they even met. She expects us to take the Bubbie according to what fits her schedule. She expects my German to be the one who has to take a full day off from work to pick him up while she is the one that can conveniently retrieve him on a Sunday. Do not get me wrong, mein Deutscher has no problem taking a day off from work to retrieve his son - that is not the issue. The problem is the expectation on her behalf that my German make the sacrifice of doing so to bring him for a visit because she, in her own words, "does not want to waste a vacation day". Selbstsuchtig = selfish anyone?
She does not adhere to a phone schedule with him. Mein Deutscher calls almost everyday. Usually with no joy as both the house and cell phone go unanswered. Two or three days later she will call and leave a message about how the Bubbie "did not feel like talking on the phone" for one reason or another. I get a bit huffy on that one... He is six, tell him he needs to talk to his Papa before he can watch Nick Jr or before he gets to go play outside. Even if it is just 60 seconds, I love the way my German's face lights up just hearing that little voice pipe up with "hi, Papa". Not being a full time mom or step mom, I am not sure if he is always that way; however, if it were me, my mother would tell me I needed to talk to my father before moving on to another thing... Oh wait a minute, that really did happen! Daddy traveled extensively when I was younger and that was the rule....
She approaches me with issues, questions, travel plans; however, when I breach the subject of travel first I am told I "am not his parent". True; however, fair's fair. If you approach me allow me the same courtesy to approach you. I am not trying to be his mother. He has a mother and when I married the German, I sent her a very heartfelt note telling her that I know my role is to cherish and encourage and love the Bubbie and watch out for his well being.
I am blessed to not be a product of divorce. The German is as well. None of my closest friends are the children of divorced parents nor are they step parents. Same thing with my boat-load of aunt and uncles. It is a slippery slope and I have no frame of reference for it. Never do I want to be compared to what seems to be the negatives of being a step mom. It is far too Cinderalla-esque for my tastes.
So I am calling all mom's and step mom's for advice as to how to handle the situation. Thoughts? Suggestions? All are welcome.
08 June 2007
Unfortunately, your word of the day...
Lunge Krebs (bet I do not need to translate to lung cancer, do I?)
Over a year... 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days... It was a year April 24th... That was the day the wonderful Dr. Bill Putnam of Vanderbilt cut the horrible cancer out of Mama... One of the best and worst days of my life as I remember it. I know Daddy was as scared as I was. After all, he's known her over 44 years and I had only known her the 40 I had lived through to that point.
I remember when she was first diagnosed (in March 2006) with non-small cell lung cancer. The pulmonologist told us it looked like IA and that it should easily be removed with a wedgectomy His prognosis was no radiation and no chemo, that's it. I remember he actually said the other "C" word.... CURE...
I remember on the 24th of April when Dr. Putnam called to have Daddy and I come up to discuss the surgery with him. I was so anxious because her first CT scan showed something the size of a quarter and now the pure evil should be removed from her petite body. I was nervous, anxious, jittery and about to throw up.
He led us into the room to speak to us. I had my trusty notebook and pen at hand, you never know when you might need to take notes. It was worse than he thought.... Hidden behind the quarter-sized tumor was a much larger grapefruit-sized one that did not light up during all the preliminary tests. It was wrapped around some lymph nodes... How many? Lots. Had to take those too. Fortunately the right lung looked clear and there was nothing else showing cancer.
Prognosis? Much different than the pulmonologist's original thought... Now there will be chemo - about 12 weeks worth of it. Now there will be radiation - about 6-8 weeks of it. Chances of it spreading? Yep. Now I really want to puke.
The look on Daddy's face must have mirrored my own. Complete, utter devastation and worry. My immediate family is a family of three. An oddity in Catholicism. We are a tight knit crew and we have the large extended family to prove it. Daddy is the baby of ten and Mama is the middle of five. Cousins out the wazoo.... However, we are the only part of the contingency in Tennessee... Oops, forgot to mention that the Nana lives with the folks. The Nana is the Mama's mother... I was living with the German (and about to get engaged in eight days unbeknownst to me) and, unfortunately, he was out of town on business this day. Daddy and I had to be there for one another and our one rule was to not cry in front of Mama.
Chemo and radiation are a bitch. I never want to go through the pure hell Mama went through. Ever. Wouldn't wish it on another living soul. Period.
She got a diagnosis of "no new visible sign of disease" back in the fall of 06. It is time for the next Cat Scan results next week and we are praying, hoping, wishing, crossing our fingers and everything else that this will say the same... No visible sign of disease.
Cancer is a vicious, evil beast and shows no discrimination or regard to any that fall victim to it. I say that even more so because Mama is not a smoker, never has been... It's just "one of those things".
People, those that know me and those that do not, I ask for your prayers for Mama. If you are not a prayerful person, I ask for your kind thoughts and well wishes for her. 63 years and some odd months is way too short a time for her. I want my parents to happily and healthfully celebrate their 50th anniversary in 6+ years and many more to come.
I just needed to get this off my chest. The nervous, anxious, jittery thing is kicking in again. Thank God for a nice cold Yazoo Dos Perros to wind down this week.
There will be a much lighter, happier German word the next time. Promise.
Over a year... 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days... It was a year April 24th... That was the day the wonderful Dr. Bill Putnam of Vanderbilt cut the horrible cancer out of Mama... One of the best and worst days of my life as I remember it. I know Daddy was as scared as I was. After all, he's known her over 44 years and I had only known her the 40 I had lived through to that point.
I remember when she was first diagnosed (in March 2006) with non-small cell lung cancer. The pulmonologist told us it looked like IA and that it should easily be removed with a wedgectomy His prognosis was no radiation and no chemo, that's it. I remember he actually said the other "C" word.... CURE...
I remember on the 24th of April when Dr. Putnam called to have Daddy and I come up to discuss the surgery with him. I was so anxious because her first CT scan showed something the size of a quarter and now the pure evil should be removed from her petite body. I was nervous, anxious, jittery and about to throw up.
He led us into the room to speak to us. I had my trusty notebook and pen at hand, you never know when you might need to take notes. It was worse than he thought.... Hidden behind the quarter-sized tumor was a much larger grapefruit-sized one that did not light up during all the preliminary tests. It was wrapped around some lymph nodes... How many? Lots. Had to take those too. Fortunately the right lung looked clear and there was nothing else showing cancer.
Prognosis? Much different than the pulmonologist's original thought... Now there will be chemo - about 12 weeks worth of it. Now there will be radiation - about 6-8 weeks of it. Chances of it spreading? Yep. Now I really want to puke.
The look on Daddy's face must have mirrored my own. Complete, utter devastation and worry. My immediate family is a family of three. An oddity in Catholicism. We are a tight knit crew and we have the large extended family to prove it. Daddy is the baby of ten and Mama is the middle of five. Cousins out the wazoo.... However, we are the only part of the contingency in Tennessee... Oops, forgot to mention that the Nana lives with the folks. The Nana is the Mama's mother... I was living with the German (and about to get engaged in eight days unbeknownst to me) and, unfortunately, he was out of town on business this day. Daddy and I had to be there for one another and our one rule was to not cry in front of Mama.
Chemo and radiation are a bitch. I never want to go through the pure hell Mama went through. Ever. Wouldn't wish it on another living soul. Period.
She got a diagnosis of "no new visible sign of disease" back in the fall of 06. It is time for the next Cat Scan results next week and we are praying, hoping, wishing, crossing our fingers and everything else that this will say the same... No visible sign of disease.
Cancer is a vicious, evil beast and shows no discrimination or regard to any that fall victim to it. I say that even more so because Mama is not a smoker, never has been... It's just "one of those things".
People, those that know me and those that do not, I ask for your prayers for Mama. If you are not a prayerful person, I ask for your kind thoughts and well wishes for her. 63 years and some odd months is way too short a time for her. I want my parents to happily and healthfully celebrate their 50th anniversary in 6+ years and many more to come.
I just needed to get this off my chest. The nervous, anxious, jittery thing is kicking in again. Thank God for a nice cold Yazoo Dos Perros to wind down this week.
There will be a much lighter, happier German word the next time. Promise.
06 June 2007
Migraines and Homework and Tired, Oh My!
Today was not a good day. I was the lucky recipient of a migraine last night and today. Not just a run of the mill migraine where I suffer through my day at work only to come home and crawl into bed... But one of those full throttle migraines that include the oh, so lovely classic sympton of nausea... Yes, I spent last night and today thanking God the bathroom floor is cold.
I am finally back amongst the living having told myself if I do not get up (at 4:00ish) that I would wake up around 1:00a wondering what I should do with myself.
Thanks to Lynnster and GingerSnaps for the tutorial... I tried again; however, in my drugged state I failed my task. Ginger, I did drop you an email for further assistance, thanks.
Side note to Jentina, no, I do not have too much time on my hands. On the contrary, I am up to my neck with way too many things on my very heavy plate. Sorry to disappoint, Cuz! And yes, go Spurs! And love to all my Texas posse, miss you guys!
I am finally back amongst the living having told myself if I do not get up (at 4:00ish) that I would wake up around 1:00a wondering what I should do with myself.
Thanks to Lynnster and GingerSnaps for the tutorial... I tried again; however, in my drugged state I failed my task. Ginger, I did drop you an email for further assistance, thanks.
Side note to Jentina, no, I do not have too much time on my hands. On the contrary, I am up to my neck with way too many things on my very heavy plate. Sorry to disappoint, Cuz! And yes, go Spurs! And love to all my Texas posse, miss you guys!
05 June 2007
I could use a little help, please.
If anyone wants to hook a girl up, I would love to know how to post a link in the middle of text whilst in a blog... I have practiced and tried to no avail.
Sucks to be me...
Sucks to be me...
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