May Be Good, May Be Bad....

There is this Chinese Proverb that I've heard many times.  The first time that I heard it was in a family intensive out patient session.  The story is an important one for families of addicts and alcoholics to understand and more importantly, to accept.  I find myself stressing less and instead looking to each thing that happens with curiosity.  "I wonder what I am to learn from that?"

The Son lost another person he knew from his first rehab.  It was the second person to die in three weeks.  The Dad has a coffee drinking buddy who lost his son to cirrhosis of the liver this week.  We went to the visitation last night and as this older Dad sat and received each of us his soft touch extended beyond taking our hands as he tried to encourage us that our son still had such great hope. 

I misplaced a couple of things of value right after the Son's last visit.  My mind instantly went "there".  I tore apart my closet and other places trying to find the items that I had misplaced.  I was sick.  Even though I knew in my heart that our last visit was the most real of any visit we'd had in a long time, I knew that I had to acknowledge that items were missing and he had been here at the same time. 

So, I accused him and he denied.  I told him that I didn't believe him.  He told me to keep looking for them.  Nothing new.  I was so conflicted, this time.  Our visit seemed so genuine.  And then, I found one item and then the next.  Did I blow it?  Will he open up to me again after what I did?  What am I to learn from all of this? 

Have I mentioned how much I hate this disease?  I'm giving it to God.  I don't know how to restore what I have broken.  I promptly admitted and apologized. But, I hurt his feelings at a time where he was showing vulnerability......exactly what I didn't want to do. 

Time will tell but in the mean time, I praying for Henry and all of you.



 

Cussin'

Some people swear.  But, in the south, we cuss.  I have never really been much of a cusser (is that a word?).  My mother, born in 1923, NEVER cussed.  She actually wouldn't even fully spell a cuss word.  Doing so might actually mean that she'd cussed.  So, she'd spell exactly half the word and not one letter more. 

My dad grew up very poor and the son of an alcoholic.  He wanted more.  He would always tell me that it was easy to cuss but he was so proud of my Mama and what a "good" girl he'd managed to snag that he just felt like he could and would do better.  Instead, he made up cuss words.  "Dad dhasted" was among his favorites.  "Son of a Buck" was another...although I'm fairly sure that a buck is male, but I don't really guess that matters. 

My aunts used Sugar instead of that word referring to fecal matter.  I wonder why we feel such power when shouting out a term referring to excrement?  But, the one that is like nails on a chalk board to me is the "F bomb".  Did you know that "f bomb" actually made it into the dictionary this year?  It is a sad sign of our times, indeed.  Anyhow, I hate, hate, hate that one. 

In active addiction, my son, knowing of my adverse  reaction to that word once called after he'd been kicked out and he'd been drinking, and using his great creativity to use that particular word as a noun, verb, adjective and a host of other grammatical terms that I have forgotten the meaning to. 

On Friday, I confronted him about something that I thought he was lying about.  When he continued to stand by his story, I yelled from a place I was certain my parents were watching and shaking their collective heads in a "you know better than" motion, BULLSHIT!

If you really think about it, bullshit is like the plain ol shit on steroids.  I know this for fact as I live next door to cows.  Anyhow, I'm fairly certain that son swallowed his gum and his face went red and the whites of his eyes just about doubled in size.  He was so shocked.  Here was this boy who was obviously not shocked by much and yet me cussin at him almost knocked him over.  He could not let it go.  He brought it up 3-4 more times.

It kind of tickled me (after I felt guilty over stooping lower than I should have in a fit of anger).  It tickled me because even if I didn't realize it before, keeping my language clean, meant something to him.  You talk and talk to your kids but it's your day in and day out actions that are really who you are.  They are what they really notice.  It is a wake up call for me to build on that one good thing that I've got going.

Today, I am thankful for his standards for me.  I am thankful for great parents.  I am praying for all of you out there with your daily ups and downs and I'm praying for Henry.

Interior Change

There has been a change.  The inner change allows outward manifestations to  sneak out bit by bit defining a new person or perhaps illustrating  the real person minus the drugs or the anxieties of the past.  I do not know why it is happening or when exactly it started to happen but I am so thankful.

I've been reading some really good books regarding love.  Real love.  How we show love....how we perceive love and my only explanation for this change is prayer and a new understanding of how to love.

Prayer in and of itself is love.  It is a love of God and getting to know Him more deeply.  Prayer is love.  Not just of what we want but trusting God to know and give us what we need.  So I don't question, I just accept with grateful heart.

Love is the subject of many books, many songs and movies.  It is the theme of what we all live for and crave.  Hollywood has distorted our image of love in such a way that most of us don't know the first thing about it anymore. 

Today, I am so thankful for God's holy grace.  I am not worthy.  I am thankful.  I pray for each of you to learn as I am learning God's gift of love.  I pray for our addicted loved ones and I say a prayer for Henry. 

The Face of Jesus

Sometimes, when I stand back and pay attention, I  see things that I easily miss on any given day.  Don't you imagine that there are times that God is all of His glory in heaven sits back like any good parent shaking His head thinking, when will they get it?

Son is at home between jobs and sober.  I know this because when I thought he was using I said , "would you be willing to take a drug test?"  His reply was "yes ma am, would you like for me to pick one up?"  In days past this would have been all that I needed and I would have been delighted by such a response but older wiser Hattie was not falling for it so she said,"why yes, I would appreciate that very much!"

He was clean....clearly PAWS were rearing their ugly head his way.  He is of his own volition, doing 90 meetings in 90 days and met with a sponsor yesterday.  Before, this would have had me doing a happy dance.  Today, I figure it will work out or not.....holy indifference, a grace for sure.

Sunday, he went to an NA meeting and stopped at a convenience store to get gas on his way home.  There was a homeless guy outside who asked if he could bum a cigarette.  Son said sure and gave him 3-4 cigarettes.  The homeless man  was very grateful and asked how he was and what he was up to.  Son told him where he'd been.  The homeless man told him that he used to smoke crack cocaine but now substituted for alcohol.  He told him to keep it up.  He told him to take this chance and change his life. 

This encounter really touched my son.  He kept talking about it all day.  I think my son saw Jesus that day.  And, sometimes, the kindness of those who have the least still surprises me.  The marginalized are just dismissed.  But, if we pay attention, if we look them in the eyes with the hope of seeing Jesus.........we just might.

Later, the daughter had the Kardashians on tv.  Everyone that walked in the room made a comment about how we could not believe that she was watching that. And, like moth to a flame, we all sat there unable to change it because we could not believe how unrealistic these folks really are.

 Later, my son said to me that he thought the mom was a succubus......OK this is my son who was not sober for most of high school and all of college.  First of all, I had to ask him what this meant, then I could not believe it when my son told me that it was a female demon appearing in human form and that one of our earliest popes was corrupt in large part because of his liaison with one.  He thought this was true, then googled it and confirmed. 

Well, wonders never cease.  Wonder what God has in store next?  Everyday is a surprise.....

Today I am thankful for the gifts of God's generous heart.  I am thankful for the "least of these" and the lessons that they teach me, all of the time.  I'm thankful for the gift of faith.  I pray for God to heal your sons and daughters and mine.  I pray for wisdom and I pray for the soul of my grandfather, Henry.

Trust More

John Kavanaugh, philosophy professor at SLU and Jesuit priest, once asked Mother Teresa to pray for him to have clarity during his formation process.  She said, "I've never had clarity and certitude.  I only have trust.  I'll pray that you trust."

What a spunky gal she was....just getting to the meat of the problem.  I've been in a real funk...wanting to know what I was supposed to do with myself.  So, I bought this book , "God's Voice Within".  And, I'm learning (again) that I need to use today as a day of service. 

Enough Said.

Today I am thankful for the gift of books to help continue to guide me.  I am thankful for sobriety for those who have it and pray for it for those who still strive for it and I say a prayer for Henry.

Looking Towards Warmer Days....

Today is one filled with beautiful, glorious sunlight.  It literally changes my view of my life and the world.  The light helps me to hope for sunny, warm days by a pool or on a southern California beach.  It gives me hope for days of respite. 

Today I had a counseling session and the counselor kept asking me how I felt about certain things.  It was astounding to me how the twelve step program gave me a new view.  I was shocked at how I used to view things such a short time ago.  And, I was so grateful at how I have such a calmer, clearer view of things now. 

Funny, how something that turns your world upside down shakes it into focus.  Today I am grateful for this new world view.  I am thankful for the calm that a twelve step program gives.  I pray for each of you as you work your programs.  I pray for the beaches in all of our futures and I say a prayer for Henry. 

How I Met the Good Samaritans

I've heard that God will whisper to you to make you pay attention.  If you don't listen, he'll tap you on the shoulder and if you still don't listen then perhaps a brick to the head!  I think I've just received the third, loud thud.  I love to eat SUGAR!!!!  I think dessert should be a food group or the bottom of the pyramid, depending on how old you are.  But, I have diabetes and now high blood pressure and the third whack is that my heart is in a really big hurry.  It is in such a hurry that it often runs away with me until I become sick at my stomach and vomit.

So, I have begun this round of tests.  First, I had to wear a Holter monitor for 2 long, unable to bathe, days.  Yuck!!  I felt pretty good while wearing it and thought, heck I aced that one.  But, apparently, my heart rate ranged from 140-160 beats per minute at rest.  Crap...next, I had an ultrasound of my heart.  The young man who did it, sensed my concern and even though they aren't allowed to tell you much, made me feel as if there weren't any big blaring monsters on the screen (God bless him).

Then yesterday, I had the mother of all tests.  I was told that I would have a stress test.  I googled it and read about how you get on the treadmill and spend about 9 minutes at various speeds and inclines, while hooked up to blood pressure cuff and EKG.  Seemed like no problem, so when hubby offered to go I said," nah, I'll be in, I'll be out in 45 minutes to an hour, tops." 

Guess what, I was scheduled for a nuclear stress test.  This is a whole different ball game.  I was told no caffeine for 24 hrs.  This is a BIG, B-I-G, problem.  I love caffeine.  I love it hot, cold and in chocolate.  I take a big sip of Diet Pepsi in the morning and let the fizz burn down my throat and give a big ahhhh knowing that it will soon open my very sleepy eyes.  Can you say addict?  Well I know it, own it, accept it, but thus far have been unwilling to do a darn thing about it. 

Also, no drink after midnight and no food.  My appointment was scheduled for 11 am.  I have diabetes.  If you don't eat, you become very sick.  After waiting for almost an hour, they call me back.  I am beginning to get a very big caffeine withdraw headache.  They had me change into 2 gowns and put an iv in.  Then they pull out this very heavy metal tube of radioactive medicine that looks like something James Bond might carry around and inject me with it so that my heart will show up on a gamma camera.  Next, I must drink 3 cups of water on my empty, nauseated stomach and go to a separate radioactive waiting room and only use the radioactive bathroom.  No, I'm not kidding or exaggerating.

It is time to wait for the next camera.  There is an older gentleman in there who wants to talk.  My head is pounding, stomach churning but he is so sweet.  He tells me about running a feed store for 25 years after his father did it before him.  He tells me how 7 of his old employees passed away just last year and his voice begins to crack.  "Life is hard when you start to lose everyone " he said. 

After chatting for a while, I know that the inevitable is coming so I excuse myself to go to my "special" bathroom to hang with the porcelain goddess.  The 3 cups of water comes up first.  I cannot seem to stop retching.  And, all the while I hear my nurses and techs in the hallway, having a big time.  Finally, I get out and my old friend comes and gets them and tells them that they need to take care of "His girl".  How sweet is that?

The nurses get me wet towels and oj in case my sugar is low.  They put me on the bed with the camera and attempt to get this phase done.  Midway through, I yell for them to get me out and get me a trash can.  I am sick again.  They urge me to finish this portion and come back tomorrow for the next phase.  I make it through but am sick as soon as I get out. 

As I lay on this cold tiled bathroom floor in 2 hospital gowns and big baggy sweatpants, I listen to the tech laughing and having fun in the hallway.  I see all sorts of radioactive debris lying on the floor from those who have used this room before me but I no longer care.  I asked God to help me or take me, really I didn't care which. 

I had asked for phenagran.  That's all I need.  "No," they say.  A doctor would have to prescribe that.  I am in one of middle Tennessee's largest hospitals and I can't get phenegran or a doctor to give me some.  "The only option", they tell me "is to go to the ER".  Finally I decide that I cannot make it anywhere.  So, I stagger out into the hall and tell them to take the iv out and take me to the ER.

A nurse gets me in a plus sized wheel chair so that I can stuff all my belongings around me.  She wheels me through the bowels of this large hospital in order to get me and my radioactive vomit the heck out of Dodge.  She parks me in the ER waiting room, checks me in and leaves. 

I must look like some indigent person off the streets with my gowns on, puke bucket in my lap an wet towels all over me.  Then it happened.  What would normally be mortifying, no longer mattered.  I began retching again.  Right there in the middle of the waiting room.  I would have been embarrassed if I still wanted to live but I just wanted to die.  Two lovely strangers sprang into action.  One man ran to his bathroom and got wet paper towels for me while a woman picked up a magazine and fanned me until someone finally came to get me.

I got my phenagran...."Thank you Jesus" as a lot of little old southern women might say!  I finished my test today.  Everyone kept saying, "Oh my you look a lot better than yesterday."  You think? 

What is ironic to me about this story is that it was the strangers who showed the most caring and compassion.  Clearly, I'm not gonna die from vomiting, but I wanted too!!!  This only affirms what I said in my previous post.  Those other patients or families of patients cared what I was going through.  They tried to provide comfort.  Hubby was none too happy by the time he got there.  He was upset that we weren't totally prepared for what I was going through.  He was upset that they weren't really paying attention.  I think that after his questions, I became the squeaky wheel because today, I was first in and out!!  Have I said "Thanks be to God?"  Well, just in case I forgot, " Thanks be to God!"

Today I say a prayer of thanksgiving for phenegran, compassionate strangers and completed tests.  I pray for those who battle this "machine" that our hospitals have become.  I pray endlessly for our addicted loved ones, their families and Henry.

Day 15

 "Just cause you got the monkey off your back doesn't mean the circus has left town.”

I remember feeling such relief when our son entered rehab.  I imagined him detoxing and coming home all shiny and new and perfect.....(yes I know, I am a fool idealist).  Identifying a problem is huge but addiction is but a symptom of a problem.

Addiction, I have read is merely a method of anesthetizing pain.  The real task is uncovering the source of the pain and dealing with it.  I read more and more the importance of "attachment" in healing those with a host of different mental and emotional problems.

Learning to really love is my new challenge.  Today I pray for understanding to learn to love better.  I pray for healing for all of our addicted loved ones and I say a prayer for Henry.

You learn to speak by speaking, to study by studying, to run by running, to work by working; in just the same way, you learn to love by loving.
~St. Francis De Sales