May 27, 2010
Dear Harper,
I've been thinking about you in a new light lately. A friend of mine came over for dinner the other night and I was showing her pictures of you. She said something to me that, while I've heard it before, it really sunk in this time. She said that you gave up your little soul so that I could live. Your daddy said the same thing to me when we found out you had died, but I wasn't ready to hear that then. Part of my inability to hear it was that I felt like my illness was caused by you to begin with, (though I hated myself for feeling that way). But as I was looking at your picture, listening to my friend talk, I realized that you had just as much right to this life as I do. While you were a part of me, you were also your own being. Your dad and I used to talk about raising you with an understanding that you were your own person. You weren't "ours." You were just with us for us to take care of and teach for a couple of decades before you would want to move out on your own. And it's true. You were your own. And so perhaps it was your choice to help ease my pain. I don't know. Perhaps we were both victims of the same random tragedy. I don't know that either. But it did make me see you in a whole new light, thinking about it that way.
I think about you every day. Every day Harper. Yesterday I was walking on the treadmill and I started thinking about you. I was thinking about my uncertainty about what happens to us when we die. I'm okay with the uncertainty because I don't think knowing for sure would change how I live my life, but as I thought about you, it made me want to believe without a doubt that I would see you again. I so want to get to know you. This sort of settled feeling came over me then and I thought, yeah, I'll get to know her some day. One way or another I'll get to know you. There's something really exciting to me about that. I was going to say that you may not have had a fully developed body, but you had a huge spirit, and then I realized that you did have a fully developed body. It was just so tiny is all. Any yes, you had a fully developed spirit. And I believe that one day my spirit will recognize yours. And I will feel such completion and joy when that happens. I don't know the context for sure, but I do have a sense of certainty that it will happen.
I miss you. I get wrapped up in it sometimes, how much I miss you. You know, I like to think of you as a being who made a choice about giving up her life for me instead of being a victim of circumstance. It makes it all seem less tragic. But then I wonder if I believe those things just so I won't be sad, to settle the dissonance in my mind.
I love you sweet girl. Some day . . .
Mom
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Lingering fear
May 23, 2010
I napped the afternoon away yesterday, which would have been nice, except for the dream I had that woke me. My recollection of the dream started with me sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, hunched over as the doctor was about to put in an epidural. All of a sudden I realized that I didn't know what was going on. "Wait! What's happening here?" I cried out. I was alone with the doctor. "We have to take it out," she explained. Take what out? What's she talking about? There's nothing in me. There's no baby. What does she want to take out? "Listen, you have no choice here. We have to take it out." I began to sob. "I wish my husband was here," I cried as I hunched over again to let her put the epidural in. I didn't know what was going on. I kept thinking there was nothing there to take out. But just before I woke up I could see her begin to cut me open. And then I woke up.
I napped the afternoon away yesterday, which would have been nice, except for the dream I had that woke me. My recollection of the dream started with me sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, hunched over as the doctor was about to put in an epidural. All of a sudden I realized that I didn't know what was going on. "Wait! What's happening here?" I cried out. I was alone with the doctor. "We have to take it out," she explained. Take what out? What's she talking about? There's nothing in me. There's no baby. What does she want to take out? "Listen, you have no choice here. We have to take it out." I began to sob. "I wish my husband was here," I cried as I hunched over again to let her put the epidural in. I didn't know what was going on. I kept thinking there was nothing there to take out. But just before I woke up I could see her begin to cut me open. And then I woke up.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Olfactory memories
We were busying about the house Saturday morning, preparing to host a retirement party for one of my co-workers that night. I had just gone outside and started setting up chairs and tables when a scent caught my attention. I paused and sniffed around and then went back to what I was doing. But no, that scent. What was that? I walked over to our bedroom window to see if it was open. Was something coming from inside? It was a fresh scent. Clean. I was feeling something churn inside me. Maybe someone nearby was doing their laundry. Suddenly I could not rid the picture from my mind of the two nightgowns I wore when I got home from the hospital. They were the same nightgown, but one was pink and one was yellow. I was flooded with the feeling of being incredibly weak and sick. What the heck was going on? And where was that scent coming from? I went inside to investigate.
"What is that scent?" I asked Jeremy who was scrubbing out the toilet in our bathroom.
"What scent?"
"The one in the guest bathroom. What is that?"
"Oh. That's the Febreeze," he said. I walked into the bathroom and took a deep breath. Yep. That was it. Mystery solved. I went back outside, but I couldn't go back to work. I sat down on the bench by the fountain and closed my eyes. I could see it all. I could see myself in the bathroom after my surgery. I could see myself emptying my ostomy bag. The smell from the bag was horrible. They made special drops you could order from the ostomy supply companies to try to help with the smell. I didn't think they worked so well. We used a lot of Febreeze back then, apparently, though I didn't remember that until that day.
I began to sob. I went back into the bathroom where Jeremy was, my face scrunched up in sobs, "That scent took me back. I'm so thankful I don't have a bag anymore Jeremy. It was horrible. I hated it. I'm so thankful," I told him. He wrapped his arms around me and told me he knew.
Sunday morning we took Django for a walk. "I'm still prepared for you to end up with an ostomy again Abby," he said.
"I know Jeremy. I am too. But for now I'm going to enjoy the time that I don't have one." It's not something we talk about a lot. But it needs to be said from time to time. We need to prepare ourselves mentally for it so it doesn't devastate us if it happens. And it won't devastate us. I just have this feeling though, that that part of my life isn't over. Maybe that's lingering fear talking, I don't know. Maybe it's my body telling my mind something the rest of me doesn't know yet. Maybe the feeling will dwindle with time. But for now, it's where we are.
"What is that scent?" I asked Jeremy who was scrubbing out the toilet in our bathroom.
"What scent?"
"The one in the guest bathroom. What is that?"
"Oh. That's the Febreeze," he said. I walked into the bathroom and took a deep breath. Yep. That was it. Mystery solved. I went back outside, but I couldn't go back to work. I sat down on the bench by the fountain and closed my eyes. I could see it all. I could see myself in the bathroom after my surgery. I could see myself emptying my ostomy bag. The smell from the bag was horrible. They made special drops you could order from the ostomy supply companies to try to help with the smell. I didn't think they worked so well. We used a lot of Febreeze back then, apparently, though I didn't remember that until that day.
I began to sob. I went back into the bathroom where Jeremy was, my face scrunched up in sobs, "That scent took me back. I'm so thankful I don't have a bag anymore Jeremy. It was horrible. I hated it. I'm so thankful," I told him. He wrapped his arms around me and told me he knew.
Sunday morning we took Django for a walk. "I'm still prepared for you to end up with an ostomy again Abby," he said.
"I know Jeremy. I am too. But for now I'm going to enjoy the time that I don't have one." It's not something we talk about a lot. But it needs to be said from time to time. We need to prepare ourselves mentally for it so it doesn't devastate us if it happens. And it won't devastate us. I just have this feeling though, that that part of my life isn't over. Maybe that's lingering fear talking, I don't know. Maybe it's my body telling my mind something the rest of me doesn't know yet. Maybe the feeling will dwindle with time. But for now, it's where we are.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A very good place to be
May 13, 2010
I've been enjoying the peace in my life lately; driving with the radio off, sitting outside in the hammock in the silence. I'm not afraid of my thoughts. I don't need to distract myself from my pain or sadness. I feel like I'm entering into a new phase in my life. A phase where I do not need to focus on me so much any more. I'm wanting to really enjoy myself. I don't think I've ever been as okay with just relaxing and enjoying things as I am right now. I find myself smiling frequently. Such a good place to be. Such a very good place to be.
I've been enjoying the peace in my life lately; driving with the radio off, sitting outside in the hammock in the silence. I'm not afraid of my thoughts. I don't need to distract myself from my pain or sadness. I feel like I'm entering into a new phase in my life. A phase where I do not need to focus on me so much any more. I'm wanting to really enjoy myself. I don't think I've ever been as okay with just relaxing and enjoying things as I am right now. I find myself smiling frequently. Such a good place to be. Such a very good place to be.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
2010 Take Steps for Crohn's & Colitis
May 9, 2010
Yesterday evening Jeremy and I, aka "Team Cashman," completed the 2010 Take Steps for Crohn's and Colitis walk. We raised $1025 for the cause and it was with pride that I wore the visor I received as a gift for reaching the $1000 mark. I would guess there were over 100 people there walking. There was "The Swollen Colon" team, and there were the "semi-colons" who of course had a large ";" on their t-shirts. There was a group of people walking in memory of a young woman who lost her life to one of the diseases with her picture on their t-shirts. There were kids and dogs, food, and music. It was quite an event for diseases about which there isn't much public awareness. One of the most funny parts of the experience to me was seeing the signs pointing to the restrooms everywhere with "Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America" written on them. Every sign we passed made me laugh a little harder. Okay, the game for the kids where they tossed toilet paper rolls into a toilet seat was pretty funny too.
There is nothing like the feeling that comes with doing something active to help make a change for the better in the world. Nothing like it! I said it before, but I'll say it again: Thank you so much to those of you who supported Jeremy and I with your financial contributions to this cause. Thank you!
I don't know how else to describe what I felt walking beside Jeremy other than to say it felt good. Down to the core of my being it felt good.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Gassy Gus
May 7, 2010
The night sweats are making me crazy. It's my understanding that night sweats are one of the symptoms that often accompany UC, so that's what I'm attributing them to, but I think I'm going to talk to my doc about them anyway just to make sure there's nothing else going on. But man, could I just get a little break from them please? I wake up in the night with my PJs wet and cold and I go through this little debate about which action would wake me up more - to get up and change my PJs and sheets (which would mean waking Jeremy up too), or to try to go back to sleep wet and cold? If you've ever had night sweats I'm sure you understand the dilemma. Ugh.
The lack of sleep is exhausting me. When I'm tired, it feels like everything is just a little bit harder for me emotionally too. Little annoyances bother me and even worry me more than they normally would. For instance, now I know this is going to sound funny, but I can't really pass gas anymore. Well, I can, but it takes some effort and is only done when I'm in the restroom. Granted, this does remove me from any public embarrassment, but sometimes I think I would trade that risk for comfort. Gas can be mildly painful you know. Fortunately I'm in the bathroom frequently throughout the day relieving myself on a regular enough basis that the bloating that's associated doesn't get too bad. And while there may not be public embarrassment, I do have to talk myself through the fact that it's okay for me to make noises in the bathroom. For the most part I've been able to get to a place mentally where I'm okay with just letting it rip. Hey, you have to have a sense of humor about this stuff, really, or there would just be no way to deal with it.
Okay, so writing this has actually been helpful for me today. Instead of feeling frustrated and worn out about the whole gas thing, I'm kind of laughing at myself. So for that I'm thankful. Any other colonless people out there who have suggestions or share this issue, I'd love to hear from you!! (Maybe it's not a result of having no colon, maybe it's more about the active UC in my rectum, I don't know. One of those minor things I'll talk to my doc about next time I see him.)
Oh yes! And I am so pleased to tell you that Jeremy and I have raised over $1000 so far for our walk!! I cannot believe it!! What generous folks you all are! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! If you're still interested in donating, don't let the fact that we've reached our goal stop you (smile). You can donate at online.ccfa.org/goto/abbycashman and click on "make a gift." Tomorrow's the walk. I'll let you know how it goes!!
The night sweats are making me crazy. It's my understanding that night sweats are one of the symptoms that often accompany UC, so that's what I'm attributing them to, but I think I'm going to talk to my doc about them anyway just to make sure there's nothing else going on. But man, could I just get a little break from them please? I wake up in the night with my PJs wet and cold and I go through this little debate about which action would wake me up more - to get up and change my PJs and sheets (which would mean waking Jeremy up too), or to try to go back to sleep wet and cold? If you've ever had night sweats I'm sure you understand the dilemma. Ugh.
The lack of sleep is exhausting me. When I'm tired, it feels like everything is just a little bit harder for me emotionally too. Little annoyances bother me and even worry me more than they normally would. For instance, now I know this is going to sound funny, but I can't really pass gas anymore. Well, I can, but it takes some effort and is only done when I'm in the restroom. Granted, this does remove me from any public embarrassment, but sometimes I think I would trade that risk for comfort. Gas can be mildly painful you know. Fortunately I'm in the bathroom frequently throughout the day relieving myself on a regular enough basis that the bloating that's associated doesn't get too bad. And while there may not be public embarrassment, I do have to talk myself through the fact that it's okay for me to make noises in the bathroom. For the most part I've been able to get to a place mentally where I'm okay with just letting it rip. Hey, you have to have a sense of humor about this stuff, really, or there would just be no way to deal with it.
Okay, so writing this has actually been helpful for me today. Instead of feeling frustrated and worn out about the whole gas thing, I'm kind of laughing at myself. So for that I'm thankful. Any other colonless people out there who have suggestions or share this issue, I'd love to hear from you!! (Maybe it's not a result of having no colon, maybe it's more about the active UC in my rectum, I don't know. One of those minor things I'll talk to my doc about next time I see him.)
Oh yes! And I am so pleased to tell you that Jeremy and I have raised over $1000 so far for our walk!! I cannot believe it!! What generous folks you all are! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! If you're still interested in donating, don't let the fact that we've reached our goal stop you (smile). You can donate at online.ccfa.org/goto/abbycashman and click on "make a gift." Tomorrow's the walk. I'll let you know how it goes!!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
No Colon & Still Rollin'
May 2, 2010
This past week Jeremy called me and told me he heard on the radio about a walk that was taking place in Tucson to help fight Crohn's and Colitis. "Do you wanna look into it? I think we should do it," he offered. So I hopped on-line and found out about the walk and signed us up right away.
On Saturday, May 8th, Jeremy and I will be doing the 2010 Take Steps for Crohn's & Colitis walk here in Tucson. So the funny thing about this, that just dawned on me today, is that the walk will be on the 2 year anniversary of the date I had my colon removed. How appropriate is that?! I can't tell you how excited I am about this. It feels so empowering first of all to be raising money that will help local patient programs and support research, but also to be doing something active, something concrete to fight against this disease that nearly took my life and really, did take the life of my daughter. I told Jeremy I was going to make a No Colon & Still Rollin' t-shirt to wear to the walk and he actually laughed. "That's the first time you've ever laughed at any of my colon jokes!" (And believe me, I've told my share of colon jokes.) Up until now, he has said he couldn't laugh. "I've seen too much to laugh Abby." But I got one laugh out of him. So maybe that means the visions and memories of the hard times are fading for him? I sure hope so.
Already people have donated more money to our walk than I anticipated. I'm deeply, deeply touched by that. If you would like to help in the cause, you can go to online.ccfa.org/goto/abbycashman and make a donation. Every little bit counts! I will for sure post pictures of the walk on my blog, so stay tuned!
(And thank you so much to those who have already given!)
This past week Jeremy called me and told me he heard on the radio about a walk that was taking place in Tucson to help fight Crohn's and Colitis. "Do you wanna look into it? I think we should do it," he offered. So I hopped on-line and found out about the walk and signed us up right away.
On Saturday, May 8th, Jeremy and I will be doing the 2010 Take Steps for Crohn's & Colitis walk here in Tucson. So the funny thing about this, that just dawned on me today, is that the walk will be on the 2 year anniversary of the date I had my colon removed. How appropriate is that?! I can't tell you how excited I am about this. It feels so empowering first of all to be raising money that will help local patient programs and support research, but also to be doing something active, something concrete to fight against this disease that nearly took my life and really, did take the life of my daughter. I told Jeremy I was going to make a No Colon & Still Rollin' t-shirt to wear to the walk and he actually laughed. "That's the first time you've ever laughed at any of my colon jokes!" (And believe me, I've told my share of colon jokes.) Up until now, he has said he couldn't laugh. "I've seen too much to laugh Abby." But I got one laugh out of him. So maybe that means the visions and memories of the hard times are fading for him? I sure hope so.
Already people have donated more money to our walk than I anticipated. I'm deeply, deeply touched by that. If you would like to help in the cause, you can go to online.ccfa.org/goto/abbycashman and make a donation. Every little bit counts! I will for sure post pictures of the walk on my blog, so stay tuned!
(And thank you so much to those who have already given!)
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