Sick Days

I had different plans for what I would post today, but fate did not swing my way. Today is a sick day. In fact, as I am on medical leave from my job, I guess it would be more appropriate to call today a sicker day, since I am pretty much always somewhere on the spectrum of sick.

Today I've traded pajamas for sweatpants, the bed for the couch and sleeping with an uncomfortable relaxed looking pose that is filled with dread. It sucks here and I wish my body would just tell me what the heck it wanted, what it needed to feel, finally at ease. This hasn't been the greatest week, health-wise for me and I'm starting to feel a bit beat up about it, so it is time that I recall what strength can be drawn from the fight through this poem from Douglas Mallock:

Bold Tree by zachstern

The tree that never had to fight,

For sun and sky and air and light,

But stood out on the open plain,

And always got it’s share of rain,

Never became a forest king,

But lives and dies a scrawny thing.

The man who never had to toil,

To gain and farm his patch of soil,

Who never had to win his share,

Of sun and sky and light and air,

Never became a manly man,

But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow in ease,

The stronger the wind, the stronger trees

The farther sky, the greater the length

The more the storm, the more the strength,

By sun and cold, by rain and snow,

In tree and men good timbers grow.

Where thickest lies the forest growth

We find the patriarchs of both.

And they hold counsel with the stars

Whose broken branches show the scars

This is the common law of life.

                     Douglas Mallock

So, here's to the wonder of my good timber growth and to the days in my someday futur where I can hang a swing from them and just be!

An Impulse Done Right

The sun was high in the sky, the schedule was free and clear and the bikes were free from their dangerous overhanging hooks in the backyard shed. We were in the living room, on the couch, still in our PJs and deciding what to have for breakfast. "Let's go bike riding to the park today," I suggested hoping that my husband's yes would be all my muscle-atrophied body would need to make the trip a reality.

"OK, if you want to..." he responded, I think realizing that this would be one request that would haunt him every weekend until he finally acquiesced.

In an hour or so, we were finally out on the road. My shins were burning, my butt was aching, I was already panting harder than my overweight beagle after a mid-day walk around the block, but I was riding my bike - something I hadn't done in nearly 10 years! It was awesome, and I just hoped I wouldn't kill myself in this short ride.

When we reached the park and I could bask in the serenity of the lake before me, I knew it was all worth it. I needed this. I needed to be free, to be outside, to be moving and to be with nature on this beautiful day.

Sometimes I find myself in the throws of impulse when in the grocery store and I wonder, when I get home, how I ended up with so much stuff. Other times I find myself impulsively following someone on twitter, only later to realize that the one brilliant tweet I read of theirs that led to the follow was the beginning and end of their readable tweets. It becomes such that impulsiveness starts to grow a negative reputation, and yet this bike ride - a completely impulsive act made my Memorial Day Weekend!

I'm not really a planner, so impulse is a big part of my day to day. It feels extra special when one goes so perfectly right.

Someone Stole My F-ing Car

Here I am locked in this office
chained to these keys
staring into a screen swearing it is my fucking window to the world...

But I know someone else is driving my car,
out on the open road
with windows down, music blaring and winds blazing through his hairs.

What the hell happened?
That's my car. That's supposed to be me.
Running from the fury and enjoying the freedom of the outside.

This is abuse of the worst kind - it is self-mutilating.
I handed over the keys, I said, "Drive for me, please."
And, at the time, I meant it. At the time, I needed it.
But honestly I let this shit go on too long.

I want to fucking DRIVE.

Now we've had a fight and HE gets to flee?!
Oh NO... that is simply UNacceptable.

Stuck here with my limited vision,
my god-damned limited health
and with it I can't even express fury the way I used to.

Justice is lost...

I am limited even in my humanity.

Is there anything else that can be taken?


The tears flow hot and heavy.
I lost this battle, but it's not with him.
Now I know it was never with him.
I still hurt over my body's betrayal to this soul....

So much more to heal,
still battling with the fact that, "I can't drive,"
Go on... say it again, the dogs aren't listening,
"I CAN'T drive."

You know why, too, of course.
"...it isn't safe..."
But, Nicole, that doesn't mean you can't LIVE.

Now remember why you love him,
remember what the hell HE'S been through.
He's just about the last person on the planet you should be fighting with.
Let him drive,
he'll be home soon
and he'll be bringing back your car.


This post was written for the Red Riding Hood Prompt. This week's assignment was:

This week, we want fightin' words.

Write a piece about a fight. What happened? Why? Who "won"? What were the repercussions? 

I actually had half of this written raw, in the middle of a fight (as you can probably tell) with no intention to post it, but when I saw this prompt I thought it must be kismet.

Think IH on Rare Disease Day

I was in high school when I read Flowers for Algernon and the story absolutely broke my heart. I've seen the movie, but film seemed unable to capture what Charlie's broken down language could convey. Yesterday, I had a "Charlie moment." I've decided that's what I am going to call them now, since a "senior moment" doesn't quite fit a 34 year old, or the nature of the event. Nope, I gained a great knowledge, used it, flourished in it and now, sit back, helplessly as I watch it all slip away...

It began earlier this week when my husband and I were watching the movie 127 Hours in preparation for the Oscars this weekend. My husband asked, "127 hours - how many days is that?" This is a simple question. He may have even had an answer before I said anything, all you have to do is divide 127 by 24, or decide through multiplication (or even repeated addition) how many 24s it takes you to reach 127. I said, "It's more than five days, but maybe even more than six. I don't know. Let me think about it... Could it be seven? I don't think it is seven. I think it is more than six, though."

I honestly don't think my husband even cared anymore, but throughout the movie I was multiplying 24 by six, then by five, then by seven... all in my head and never able to get an answer. I gave up and watched the movie. A day passed. Then last night, while we were driving home I said, "127 hours is five days with seven hours left over. It is not even six days. What was I talking about?" I couldn't believe this was happening to me again. I continued, " I feel like Charlie, from Flowers for Algernon."

My husband is an English teacher, so he didn't need much further explanation. You see, by career, by passion, by life calling, I am a math teacher. I have been since I graduated undergrad with a BS in Mathematics and Education. I have taught pre-algebra, algebra, geometry, trigonometry and advanced placement statistics over the course of the last twelve years. On my desk here in my office is an article from a 2001 edition Congressus Numerantium a Canadian Mathematics journal, that I was a co-author on. It goes without saying then that I should be able to tell you how many days pass in 127 hours, and I should be able to tell you quickly. However, in the last year, simple calculations seem to elude me.

It should come as no surprise to you that I am on medical leave from my teaching job, or that yesterday I began the process of filing for disability benefits. I can no longer do my job, because like Charlie and Algernon before him, I am losing the great intellectual gift that was once bestowed upon me. Whether it is due to the medication I have to take to keep my Intracranial Hypertension in control, or it is as a result of any damages the pressure may have had on my brain before I was I diagnosed, I have difficulty with some of the most benign tasks related to my profession.

This is merely one of the personal obstacles that IIH has placed before me. There are numerous others and every patient with IH has their own story to tell you. There are a lot of us out there, not as many as some other diseases and, at times, that puts us in a precarious situation. For this, IIH is deemed a Rare Disease and, in turn, does not receive as much attention as other diseases. The type of "attention" we patients desire is not necessarily some sort of media-blitz or lots of people suddenly knowing what IH is - the most desperately sought after attention we seek is that of the researchers. We would like the men and women in medical research to take some time out for IH to find better treatments, preventions, or, we hope, someday, to find a cure.

This picture was created for IHRF Wall of Hope Project for Rare Disease Day 2011.

So while you may have never heard of Intracranial Hypertension (IH) before reading this, you can know at least this for now:

• IHave it,
• IHate it, and
• IHope for a cure.

It's not great, it is life-altering and can sometimes, like all chronic conditions, be a bit lonely. You should also know that February 28th is Rare Disease Day, an annual, global event to raise awareness about all rare diseases. I kindly request that you take a moment to spread the word about some rare disease close to your heart this year, and if you have none, then tell someone about IH. If you want to learn more about it, check out the Intracranial Hypertension Research Foundation - the only non-profit dedicated to raising money and awareness about this disease.

Just think IH for Rare Disease Day!

If you are a fellow IHer, well then, my friend, I know you will already be thinking IH for Rare Disease day, so I'll leave with something more: I wish you a pain free today and tomorrow!