Is it only Monday?

Friday I flew into St Louis with my mom. My Aunt has been having heart problems nearly as long as I can remember. She had a bypass surgery when I was in my early teens. Four years ago she had to have a pacemaker/defib. Then... last year her heart, well it pretty much gave up. She spent countless days in the hospital and we weren't sure she would pull through. She did, miraculously.

Since that time she has been on the heart transplant list, technically what is considered the second list. These are the people that aren't severe enough, but still need a new heart. Last week her heart had another episode of just not wanting to work. She was rushed to Barnes-Jewish Hospital in STL (one of the top place for heart transplants). The outcome was grim. She would either leave with a heart or not leave at all.

My mom decided to come out, see what she could do. No one really knew what was going to happen or how quickly it would. All we knew is while it was horrible that she was in such bad shape, it meant she went up to the first list. She was actually number 2 on that list.

Sometime on Thursday she moved up to spot number one, still we had no idea how long of a process this would be. When my mom and I arrived late Friday we went into see her. She looked better than expected and actually was doing so well that they were thinking of sending her home Monday(today). That was a scary thought but all we wanted was what was best.

We had a late dinner and then proceeded back to the apartment. My mom and I, still on Utah time, didn't get to bed until after midnight. I was half-awaken by the sound of some phone but didn't fully register anything until my mom came running into the room "They have a heart, THEY HAVE A HEART". I shot out of bed before she could get the second part out. I threw on a bra and shoes and we were ready to go. The call came in at 3:03am. We were at the Hospital by 3:15. I was able to get three woman, well over the age of 50, in the car and to the hospital in less than 15 minutes. Let me tell you, it is no easy task. Especially since I had never driven to the hospital before.

It was a potential heart and we didn't know until just before 5am that it was a match. She was in surgery by 5:15am and out almost 7 hours later. The surgery went as well as could be expected. Things have been slow since. At first the heart wasn't working like they wanted, so they kept her sedated, to give her body time to do it's thing.

As it stands today, she is doing well. They just took her off the ventilator and plan on slowly weening her off the pain med, which she apparently wasn't very thrilled with (and who can blame her). Her kidneys and liver aren't doing 100% (which is actually pretty normal). So the news isn't stellar, but it isn't horrible.

I would like to thank:

Jennifer at BJH, for being a wonderful case-worker. She has put us up in a temp housing unit for people pre & post transplant. It cost next to nothing, is fairly close to the hospital, and has a kitchen.

Barb and Daniel, two of my Aunt's nurses. They are extraordinary people and make me question whether I should have been a nurse (I thought about it, a lot, when I was younger)

The STL police, or hopefully. I ran a few lights on the way to the hospital, and you happen to have cameras out here (stupid!). So when you see that license plate... try to refrain.

And to all the people who have sent me thoughts and prayers. It has been a long few days (feels like a week) and it makes it a little easier to here from you.

Hugs and kisses!

DONATE ORGANS! ;)

Dear Lord

I know that it has been more than a few days since I last took the time to speak with you. I think the most recent conversation we had was me begging for your help and guidance as I went through the many trials of my ex-husband. You pulled through, you gave me the support and assistance I so desperately needed. I cherished the insight and reflection you helped me achieve.

Since that time I have come closer to understanding exactly what defines my relationship with you. I learned that it isn’t defined by me going to church every Sunday or giving you a certain percentage of my salary. You don’t truly care about those things. You are interested in a personal relationship with me, one that signifies that sacrifices that you made. And I understand this and treasure it.

You don’t cause me to feel guilt or regret. You help me learn from my mistakes and seek the forgiveness I need from those who can give it to me. You don’t expect me to be perfect, but hope that I will lead by example. I don’t feel that you judge me to the harsh level that those around me do. You love me for who I am, no questions ask. You may not agree with all the choices I make or the paths I chose to follow, but your love for me never falters.

I never question whether or not you will be there for me the next time I need you. I never worry that I haven’t done enough good deeds or bowed my head enough times. I know that there aren’t specific requirements for me to be worthy of your love. I just have to be me and believe that you are you.

You don’t fault me for not being perfect, in fact, you relish in the small imperfections that make me who I am. You have never expected me to be someone else. You love me, every moment, without hesitation, just for being the person I am.

Jesus, I don’t hate you, but I am having a hard time loving those who use your name to spew hate. I want so badly to believe that there is good in every one, but the words spoken with true vindication make this task near impossible. How can I love a person who uses your name to sponsor their war of hatred and animosity towards another one of your children? How can we, as a race of humans, not love all of our brothers and sisters?

Lord, this is why I have moved away from religion speaking in your name. The message has been tainted; the seed is no longer growing. This world is using your name in vain, in the worst way possible. You love all of your children, with out question. But there are many people out there using your name and your word to rationalize violence, bigotry, and inequality.

I know, in my heart and the deep sorrows of my soul, that this is not your intention. I know, with severe strength, that you love everyone and ask us to do the same. I will continue to believe in you and the message that you have given this world. However, I can no longer support or believe in the people that use your name and word to substantiate their negativity and abhorrence upon my sisters and brothers.

The wonder of it all

I came on to myspace quite late in the game... and even later with facebook. Sure there are wonderful things about this whole social networking craze... I met the wonderful BFF and found some friends that I hadn't seen in years (MLo).

But these sites, where we can find people we haven't seen in over a decade, well the have a sense of wonder about them. I am now talking to people I haven't conversed with since my mouth was full of wire. These are people that I had completely written off, people I actually wouldn't give a passing thought to.

It is a normal part of life to move one. Talk to your parents, you might be surprised at how few people they went to high school with are still in their lives. But these days it is normal to have a weekly "wall-to-wall" with some guy who was best friends with the guy you dated when you were 15.

I am a nostalgic person, I actually enjoy this. And part of that may come from the mass amount of friends I had growing up. I moved around, a lot, and found myself meeting new people and making new friends more often than the average teenager. So in my life time I have known more people than your average Jane. And for the most part, after I moved I moved on.

And if it weren't for the wonderful world of the Internet, chances are that I never would have spoken another word to any of these people. Instead I get that opportunity, the chance to say "remember when we were 14 and..." with out the internet, or with out online social networking, I wouldn't have that chance.

And with this comes the obvious wonderment of where would I be now if I hadn't left. Would I be in a different place, would I be a different person? Am I better now then I would've been. Would I have married a loser? Would I have taken ten years to finish school?

All these questions run through my mind. Thankfully I can say that regardless if I am here or there, I have a life to be proud of. Part of that is thanks to the people that have graced me, then... and now.

The List Begins

Currently I am taking my last official class for my MBA. I say official because I still have two more classes so I will have a certification for Master Level Marketing... But those classes, I will love, I will cherish. The current class which I have deemed HELL, I can't wait for it to be over. I shouldn't have saved Advanced Managerial Finance for last, I just should have bitten the bullet.

So I am going to start the list, the list of things I will do when I actually have free time. Top of that list, Don't sign up for more shit that takes time. I tend to over-extend myself, I like to be busy... and seem to be incapable of finding the line between busy and crazy.

I also want to do nothing educational. I want to read what I want to read, not what I have to read. I want to finally finish painting my room. I want to get the kitchen remodel done. I want to paint away all the ugly ass colors in this house. I want to fix all the half-assed shit in this house.

And I want to have time to spend with the people I love... uninterrupted time. Time where I am not worried about what I have pushed aside. I just want to breath.

And possibly drink, lots.

The Missing Iron

For the last few weeks I have been slowly going insane looking for my iron. No, I didn't hit the BFF in the face with it. I just coulnd't find it. Which is weird since my ironing board is right there.

Last night I woke up from a weird ass dream and looked at my dresser. There it was in plain fucking site.

So either A) I am going crazy or B) The Trolls are back.

I vote for the Trolls. Fuckers make my life misreable.

Position Downgrade

BFF no more.

I can't refer to him as a best friend forever any longer. He is now just a best friend.

It is tragedy. Shakespeare couldn't have wrote a better one. I am not being dramatic at all. This is a life changing event.

The former BFF (as he will be referred to going forward) and I tell each other everything. And when I say everything I don't mean discussions about bowel functions, well at least not on a regular basis. When I say everything I mean all of the important things. This includes are love life. Actually our love life is one of the major things we discuss.

If you know me or the former BFF you know that the trials and journeys we have experienced are stories that may be impossible to top. Regardless of how embarrassing something is, we share it.

There was one time I didn't want to tell him something. Once. And holding out lasted all of five minutes. All he had to do was say "friends don't make secrets and secrets don't make friends". I caved quicker then a hooker looking for a fix.

I know, through a series of short texts, that he is dating someone new. Now, normally within a few dates we have full disclosure. I know everything he knows about the person and vice-verse. The first person a potential significant other meets is the BFF and again, vice-verse. We have both faced battles with partners. Apparently some people don't think a man and woman can be just friends, but that is another story for another time.

So... I was talking to him the other night and asked about her, since he had neglected to tell me about her. And guess what. HE WONT TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT HER. I know, gasp! Nothing. Not a single small insignificant detail. Sigh.

This is unexpected and unacceptable. I even tried the "friends don't make secrets and secrets don't make friends" technique. Nothing. So I decided to play the guilt card.... "I hope I don't die tonight and you have to live with the guilt of not telling me". He didn't cave. Nope. Instead he made ME feel guilty with "If you die tomorrow I will have more worries than guilt". Sigh. Fine. He loves me blah blah blah. Fucker still won't tell me.

Now I think it is a game. He won't tell me because he knows it is driving me closer to mad. Which is a nice play.

So until he tells me... he is the former BFF.

Thinking

What do you do when you love someone but have to say good bye? Is there an answer to that. I will apologize ahead, blogs for the next little while will be reflective and depressive.

Only one other time in the history of my dating life did I manage this extrodinary feat. I was very young and I think that made it easier. You'd think these things come with age.

Love is such a great thing, an experienced that makes all the pain in our lives worth it. But love can't be forced, it can't be manipulated. It has to be given freely, and without strings. Love with condition is not healthy.

Sometimes that type of love isn't there anymore. So how do you say good bye to it, how do you walk away?

I don't know how. I don't know how to walk away with out losing part of myself again. And I have worked so hard to get to this point in my life. Maybe in that work I did something wrong.