Crazy!

My oldest son turns 35

Today, New Years Eve, 35 years ago I became a 16 yr old mother. 

I see pictures of me at that age, 9 months pregnant and I look like a baby myself. 

What an amazing, challenging, beautiful, struggle, journey, adventure we set out on! 

This birthday, this one out of them all feels like my immortality slapped me in the face. 

I’ll be 52 in March. My mother died at 52. There’s an entire new adventure ahead in this chapter, I can’t imagine my book being closed at 52. Cheryl gone at 51. 

We throw away so much time. Think that we have so much more time. I’ve really been thinking about life, my life, the time I spent stuck in fear, sadness, regret. I wish that I’d been better equipped to move through those emotions in a healthier way but, then again, what happens when you waste too much time wishing rather than doing? 

35 years ago I started a chapter that gave me the true understanding of love.

What a blessing!

Me

Whining...

First world problems...

I got a new laptop and microphone for podcasting live. My “Producer Jeremy” has a job that isn’t  conducive to live podcast times when I’m dealing with UK time and the oldest boy’s life has come to a screeching halt with becoming a father. So!!! I’m learning the podcast operating system to become.... host and producer! Look at me bulking up that useless resume! 

I also spent so many hours trying to get my new phone to pair with my watch that I thought they might both still be in my hands while my eventual autopsy was being performed. I finally broke down and called Verizon and that only took us two hours. My watch had a mind of its own which reminds me!!

I was singing a made up song to the youngest boy because, don’t you sing made up songs? And Siri says .... I don’t know you.

I looked at my wrist and said... That was fucking rude. And laughed until there were tears in my eyes. How does Siri shade?! Sassy girl!

I’ve not been well. My body sleeps when it’s not well and have I ever been sleeping! I feel better tonight though. 

I’m not supposed to get the cath out for 1.5 more weeks. I’m holding on by the tips of my fingernails at this point. It’s very difficult to explain how hard it is to both be in pain 24/7 and not be able to accomplish a task that other people take for granted every single day. The husband says it was rough last time as well but, I do not remember it being this rough mentally. This consuming. This overwhelming. This much like a raging forest fire in my brain.

Maybe I just blocked it out. I do that sometimes. But one would think that this would be something I will never forget. 

Anyway. I’m gonna go do something productive like learn an operating system. 

Love,

Tracy

Yup, I’m here.

How was your Christmas?

I think that mine was in my top two Christmases!!

The kids got here early Christmas Eve and it was hectic and loud and fun!

We played a game called Wink Murder( google it. ) and it really helped spouses and boyfriends to relax and have fun. We laughed a lot! 

The big hit? Everyone loved the waffle bar. Amelia has this love rage reaction that was so adorable! Clinching her tiny fists and growling.... I love wakkles!!!!!! Omg my heart!!

The best reaction to a gift? My youngest son who could not grasp what it was.

I bought him and the husband Six Flag passes for all six flags and water parks, free parking passes and free lunch, dinner, snack and drinks all day. The boy thought there must be a catch :-) he loves Six Flags, we live close and they can go every weekend until dive season starts and even then!!

He’s been very bummed because he’s had to take this season off due to injury. I mean, he’s been in the dumps sad! So I knew that I had to do something to help him be excited about weekends again. 

He was fitted through USA Volleyball for Nikes that will help take pressure off his knees and also therapy to help. Start out pounding a court a 6 and by 16 your knees feel like grandpa’s knees!

I hope that you all had a great holiday!

I am beat!!

I had a dream a couple of nights ago. I was 18 and had given birth to the baby that in real life I had not given birth too.

I have never since that pregnancy dreamt of that baby. Never.

But here he was...He was blond, his hair fuzzy, blond eyebrows, round little face and body. The father and his mother came to see him and I said.... I’ve named him Thomas.

I have never, in four pregnancies, ever considered the name Thomas. The name hasn’t even come up as a possible option. 

So why in this dream I named him Thomas is a complete surprise to me.

I immediately woke up after announcing his name and I can’t stop thinking of it. 

This blog was a little all over the place!!

Much love to you all

Tracy

Monday!

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!!

Want me to answer some more questions?

1. why did you close Fluffy Chick?

       It’s not feeling like me anymore. It’s more than a decade old, nearly two decades old, in fact! And it’s heavy. There’s a lot of history in that blog and while I love it and sometimes even read from it, it’s weighed down in memories. Good memories and some not so great memories.... you know, like life! But in this case, I can cast it off and start this one and..... this is not going to be spunky and quirky or funny and fun all the time or even most times. I mean, let’s be real, I’m still me! But it is a different time of my life and therefore!!! Different chapter.

Are you still planning on writing a book?

Yes, I’m actually writing it and have been for awhile. I’m going to incorporate some of my previous blog’s posts in the second one. Right, I already have a sequel in mind! The working name of the first is That Girl.

Have you been able to pee?

Ha! This is the first time I’ve been asked this on my blog!!! You know me, of course not!!! It took nine weeks last time. I’m on week five this time. In fact I have a doc appointment today to get a foley for over Christmas. I’m not sleeping and I’m in quite a bit of pain so I get a bit of a Break although I’m not sure that most people would call a foley cath a “break” but it’s been a difficult two weeks.

Who or what is “Bear”

Who or what is up with the moon references?

I get this a lot. I’m puzzled. Whatever do you mean? 

What are you hoping to get for Christmas?

I never really know what to ask for.  I love Maison Margiela “Replica” Jazz Club which I’ve been wearing with By the Fireplace and so I did ask for something lighter to change things up and that is the same designer’s Sailing Day which is soooo good and even the little I sprayed on in the store lasted all day long!

Also I need some new makeup brushes. Soft thick ones like by It Cosmetics.

Tobacco scented candles are always wanted as well!!

Ok, I have to run! It’s very early in the AM.

Night luvs.... And Bears :-)

Tracy

Christmas

If I’m being truthful, I used to hate Christmas.

I know this is a looking at now and the future blog but, you know, our past forms us and I’m going to bore you through that process today.

When I was a kid Christmas wasn’t celebrated with Santa. And that was ok because I was enveloped by a Christian Christmas experience that I dearly miss today.

Then, before Christmas took a turn, it was still just as magical as Santa, maybe even more so. My holiday was spent in hymns that I cherish to this day. 

Oh come all ye faithful

Silent night

God rest us merry gentlemen 

Little Dummer Boy

It came upon a midnight clear 

Oh holy night

Angels we have heard on high

Adeste Fideles

Gloria ( oh, so damn hard to sing! Key change after key change!)

Hark! The herald angels sing

O come o come, Emmanuel ( loved the name Emmanuel so much because of the feeling surrounded around this song with choirs and voices of all ages that I wanted to give this name to my first born son. My mother informed me that while it is a great name, it’s almost exclusively used by Hispanic peoples and they might look at me oddly)

The first Noel 

You’ve gotten more than an idea by now.

Lowered church lights, holding candles in our hands, patent leather Mary Janes, a beautiful new Christmas Dress and long wool dress coat with a thick belt, large buckle and a collar that made me feel like an age old Queen Victoria.

The communion, the cookie exchanges, traveling dinners where you start at one home for appetizers and continue on until dessert.

I loved that. I loved the snow and snowmen and standing under a tree to shake the snow off onto our heads! I loved wonder bread sacks over my feet and stuffed into boots. Balls of frozen snow stuck to my mittens.

Going to my grandparents home, the marble entryway lit by candles. Two Christmas trees. Bright red, green, blue bulbs strung all over. Sledding down the big hill behind their house with my cousins or skipping that whole childish nonsense when my best friend cousin and I were 12 and 13 and would rather drink punch, eat home baked cookies and candies covering table after table and talking grownup talk about how unpleasant BettyJo ( yes, that was her name) was to be around and I adore your new shoes. 

Then there was a space in which Christmas was beating me over the head with just how poor I really was. Waiting for my $25 Christmas bonus so I could buy J gifts for Christmas and his New Years Eve birthday. $12.50 per event. A lost day of work which meant I’d make less than my usually $100 per week. The fear of that. Hearing about what everyone else got the next day at work. I didn’t get gifts. Not from my parents. Wrapped up with new partners and lives. 

I loved December 27th. Christmas was over then.

Things started looking up not long after that. I’d have someone I was seeing and began making more money and by the time I got married and started having more children my parent’s lives were back on track and I could breathe a sigh of relief.

Now, again, I’ve been able to love it. Not for myself but through my children’s eyes and now the gift of grandchildren’s eyes.

Last night we were doing some wrapping and I said... “ I want this area to stop the kids dead in their tracks. I want to see A take in the “ beautiful” Christmas and have other A know that he’s loved here and has gifts for him under there as well”

I gave Robb and his girls gifts and I know the girls are going to be so excited! I’m excited about that too!

By the way, sending something from the US to the Great Britain through Amazon is  quite the pain in the butt! You would think that AMAZON in nearly the year 2020 would have dealt with this before but....

Anyway!!

The plan is that my children, their partners and spouses and children will all be coming Christmas Eve and staying the night. ( not the oldest and his family, sadly but you get the idea)

We will start Christmas morning with a waffle bar set up on my ridiculously large bar and have food planned throughout the whole day!

I can’t wait! I also have my hymn play list ready to go :-)

Love and cattails and trips to the moon!

Tracy

Q&A

Questions!

Have you talked to your brother?

Nope. It’s been.... over three years now? Ya. Three years. Feels pretty good not having his drama. I wish he was “ Normal” but, it is what it is.

You seem much happier where you live now. No question. Just thought I’d say that I’m happy for you.

Thank you! That’s sweet. I am much happier here! In fact I feel happy about it every day! It’s exactly what I was wanting and so much more. 

I loved your posts about the stories of your life. I really had no idea about much of it and I think it’s great that you shared. It was brave to write a lot of that down in public. Did you release everything you’ve dealt with? Do you regret it now?

First, thank you. No I don’t regret it a all. I left some things out. Which is ok too. It felt like therapy and it was a relief to verbalize why I may think about or react to different subjects and circumstances the way I do. Why I do have some black and white and grey opinions. Like we all do. I wanted to stop feeling afraid that if people really heard my story that they wouldn’t “like” me. The reality is that our story makes us. Our scars or happiness are our building blocks. I have some really good personality traits that have been born from my story, at least, I view them as good. I’m proud of that. 

How is being a grandma?

First, I am the furthest thing from a “grandma” lol!!! However, the healing and wonder that comes with grandchildren is better than I could have ever imagined!!

For YEARS I was against the entire idea of being a grandmother. No. Just do not want that. I think I felt like it would somehow take away “me” my quirks my sense of humor my youth. And while it has made me feel my own mortality in a way I never have before. This whole year has! I’m not different. I’m who I am and these little humans like it that way. Pretty cool.

You’re almost an empty nester. Many people get divorced when their kids leave because they are strangers to their spouse. Do you worry about that?

I have anxiety. I’m busy worrying about things like, will I ever pee again. I can’t worry about one more thing.

I’ve been a full time parent for 35 years. Seriously, a child in my home for 35 years. I’m ready to put my time card in for the day to day parenting when the boy is fully grown. I’m good with that. 

What are you watching now?

I’m binging Homeland. I love it. 

Ok, more questions soon!!

Luv,

Me.... I wish you could see this in person! All metallic shimmery paints and it’s soooo pretty catching the light with its shimmer. Love it.

Maybe I was an IRS agent in a past life and this is my punishment...

If you have a working bladder drop to your knees and thank God. If you can’t do even that much for Jesus then I don’t know you.

Some day you will use a catheter. It’s a fact. Maybe you have a baby and their rushing you to pee like your house is on fire and it gives you stage fright and before you know it.... catheter.

Maybe your prostate has been bulking up and you find yourself in the ER one night explaining that you can’t pee.... catheter.

Maybe you have surgery and can’t get out of bed.... yup.

Maybe your bladder is taking it’s own fucking time or has simply, Had. It.

Uh-huh. 

Anyway....

What does that drug do?

Ok, for most of us it helps us feel woozy and cuddly. I looooove you! You might yell to a nurse you think looks like your favorite elementary school teacher. 

Ah...... if I die, you might say..... I want to be a tree. Trees are nice. Birds like them and squirrels and treehouses made in my dead corpse of a tree would be lovely....

Occasionally...... well, there’s this sneaky little demon that’s bound a bit by rotating dilaudid and norrco every two hours. But you will be released and you will go to sleep and when you wake up..... surprise!!!!

I woke up screaming and trying to get out of bed. Luckily, and I do feel lucky about this, I had a huge incision in my abdomen and surgery through my vaheen and those two things kept me from going anywhere.

Why, because that thing in your brain that thinks..... what if you stepped in front of this moving car, which is then switched off by that other thing called, common sense, fear, self preservation stops you?

I lost those other things. All I had were the... what if you....

I woke up from a nightmare into real life which was quickly becoming a night terror. My husband ran in faster than I’ve ever seen him and I cried.... I can’t stop myself. It’s dangerous, husband’s name. I’m going to kill or hurt myself.

What if you took a knife and pushed it into your stomach? And my body needs to get the knife. Good news... I’m in a wheel chair that I can’t use yet....

My husband seems to grasp very quickly what I’m saying but he takes me to the balcony doors because it’s 32 degrees outside and cold calms me down but.... you’re so close to the balcony, what if you ...

And I literally put my hands up on the door frame and yell.... help me!!!!! Shut the door!!!!!!!!

Pain meds, two, anxiety meds, two.... now! Now!!!! And I grab a decorative pillow and put it over my face so I can scream. I warn my husband first.... I have to get it out. I’m gonna scream... he looks out the shut balcony windows..... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.... I’m sobbing.... I’m sorry.....

And the meds start that numbness that I need badly....

Def making a call to the doctor about this, we think and say! 

Oh, ya. That’s the med that helps you forget. 

Huh?

Ya, the one we give before you go in.

Never take that again. 

He calls in more numbing pain meds.... stay medicated for a couple days.

Me: no fucking problem.

So.... here’s the thing. Up to 60% of people who have that reaction commit suicide. No shit!

But not because they want too!!!!!! How many people have had surgery and killed themselves a few days later, the hospital doesn’t know it, if they do do they report it? And their family’s are left totally confused and in pain. That is scary!!!!

Shouldn’t we be warned that five days from now you might want to lock yourself in an empty room.... you know, to be on the safe side.

And I’ve never experienced that before. Thank god I know what panic attacks feel like because at the very least, I recognized that this was a monster rollercoaster related to panic and I could ask for help from someone who could get what I was trying to say.

Questions next time.

And I know that sounds crazy and it felt fucking crazy but can happen to anyone. 

Haven’t been able to paint lately but I am today. Yay!

Tracy

So...

I had a doctors appointment today to get my catheter removed to once again play the..... Can she or can’t she!?! Game. 

The issue is that my bladder is “asleep” ya, just the laziest organ in your body. Has a little surgery, a few slices here and there and can’t be bothered to work again. So when well meaning friends and family tell me to “ relax” or “ just do it” that has no effect on a sleeping lazy organ that is simply pouting like a small child. I can’t relax that sob into waking up. He has a timeline that only he knows( my organs are he’s?) and he’ll get to you when he’s god dammed ready.

I’ve gotten to a bar so low that I had to go to the restroom with no clothes on from the waist down with only that enormous paper towel they give you to go over your waist wrapped around me. I flew past the guy who was unfortunate enough to be fixing their computer system and on the way back with a tear streaming down my face, passed him again and I didn’t care

Bonus, my panic attacks have elevated to involve throwing up. Which I also did in front of him. Something tells me that he may not come back to that office.

So..... the question of the day????

I peed a minuscule amount which is still way better than nothing.

I got to chose between foley cath ( stays in) or SELF cath with involves a whole lot of shit that hurts.

I chose strait cath. 

The nurse grabs a mirror to help me navigate where the urethra is and she was going to teach me how.

This is not my first trip to the cath rodeo so I used my adult voice and asked “listen please give me a fighting chance to do these things on my own first before I fail and need you.”

She was ok with that. I closed my eyes, did some deep breathing, talked to MYSELF saying “ you got this. Muscle memory you know how to do this. Do it”

First time! Boom!

I’ll take my motherfucking Star now, thank you!

Then I barfed all over the nurse who was in a precariously low position in front of me and... I tried to warn her. I said

M: I have to stop. 

Her: Just a few more seconds

Me: I’m going to throw up

Her: just a few seconds

Barf

But as a silver lining, in this hospital is this incredible Italian restaurant! Josh had the best pizza I’ve ever had. I love thin thin crust, pepperoni, basil and cheese and this place rocked it!! The best Chicken Parm ever!! Who would have even imagined that? Oh, and they make homemade bread. Holy shit. I’m not even a bread eater and I could live on that bread. Silver lining!!

The husband bought a new truck and I drove that. The 17 year old boy and I played music that I used to listen to on repeat like, 4-5 years ago and literally haven’t listened to since and we were singing like a Baptist choir! :-)  

The boy and I had a great day which are few and far between these days. Everyone bitches about the terrible twos but no one ever mentions the terrorizing teens. 15,16,17.... the fucking worst!

But today..... blissful.

All in all, it was a great day. Now if I could pee!!!!

Ok, I’m going to have to get to questions and tell you guys about that pre-surgery medicine next time.

Isn’t this blog fun these days? Ugh.

Cattails to you,

Me

Post coming today!!

Stay tuned!

My Surgery ( typing this in my phone. My bad if there’s typos)

So,  my recent surgery was to correct and re-do a surgery I’d had done 5 years ago.

I had a prolapsed uterus and bladder. The doc used a mesh “sling” to pull up my bladder etc....

It never worked. For five years if I went on a road trip it was a guarantee that I’d get a uti. 10 hour road trip, 2 hour road trip, it didn’t matter. My urethra, as it turns out, would.... kink, is the best description and this leads to a clusterfuck  of uti then antibiotics and then sometimes one round would work, sometimes I was stuck for a month in a circle of the above.

It finally got to the point that I was simply in the circle for over a year. Uti, antibiotic, uti, antibiotic until sepsis and kidney infections joined the party and by then it was literally becoming life threatening.

Can you even imagine dying from a uti? How embarrassing!

Long story longer... we see inside my bladder. Check for cancer or maybe a tiny little hole letting in bacteria.

My bladder is a beauty! Looks great! Does have a growth though..... not cancer. Just there from all the trauma. Cool beans. Let’s remove the old mesh, as much as possible as it does grow into you... nice, sounds lovely, let’s do this!

I had this.... feeling... every day since the day it’s scheduled.... something will go wrong. 

I’m not a fan of anesthesia. It scares me, to be honest. It can go south fast. 

I know that’s what it will be.

I’m not worried. I’m not... “scared” that I could die. I think about it a lot.

I say what I want to say to everyone. I would do that anyway but I tell the kids to take care of their dad. He’s gonna need them. Let him remarry. Encourage it. 

The anesthesiologist comes in, sees my odd throat shape and says over and over.... I won’t let you die. 

This is like this man is reading my mind. He looks at my ekg.... it’s been funky for at least eight years. It shows massive heart attack, subsequent tests show that I haven’t had one... maybe an “event” when I was like, in my 20’s...( I’m pretty sure what that could have been caused by. Not my job to tell anyone so I don’t) but it’s fine now etc...

He isn’t super comfortable with the news but my cardiologist has sent my records stating that I’m good to go.

I tell my family specific instructions on what to do with my body. Who to talk to. How to cremate me. Where to go. Stand there, do not let them put other people in there with me. Take me and even though I want to be a tree my family is highly opposed to the idea. They want me at Pine Cemetery so they can “visit” and eventually we will all be there. 

Doc comes back in, gives me the shot that relaxes you and... in case you do not know this, that shot is really medicine that causes you to forget anything you might see or hear during your surgery!! 

You aren’t suppose to remember much about the lead up either but I make this a contest and remember anyway!

I win!

PS: I’ll tell you how I know this in another post. It has a wicked side effect and for the first time ever, I was blessed with getting it. It hits you after surgery and it’s a motherfucker. I can’t use it ever again. Stay tuned!

So doc says... Tracy, I’m going to put you to sl....

I lost the contest after that.

However!!! At some point I feel as though km flowing through tube and particles of be enter a room.

It’s not really a room. It’s all black. But the knowledge comes to me saying it’s a waiting room. I “know” that this term is used simply because it’s familiar to me and I can understand the concept.

I feel the presence of other beings in the room. I also feel four large “figures” which come to my understanding as four large carved-like heads.

I’m not scared. I’m not worried. I understand that I’ve died. I even “think” I’ve died. And am given the understanding that I have but I’m not staying. I don’t worry about my family. I’m given the understanding that everything is fine.

The room very much feels as though the others will be reincarnated, which I, sitting here now, and before, don’t believe in.

But I understand it there. I’m given information which is me seeing myself have a conversation with the anesthesiologist. We are talking about my heart and my ekg and suddenly I’m aware that it’s not the same result as I usually get. It’s something else and I must get my heart checked out.

Then I’m waking up after surgery.

The doc sitting with me slowly bringing me back like he said he would if I had complications. 

I heard him, my doc and a nurse whispering about my complications and as drugged up as I was I thought... holy shit! I did die! I could then and can now remember it as vividly as I’m typing this.

They took 2.5 hours to bring me out of the anesthesia. It took that long for me to have the tube removed from my throat. A hearty shot of Pain meds and that went just fine.

My surgeon had gone and told my family that I was out of surgery, that there were complications, what happened and that I was unable to breathe on my own at the time. They would not allow even my husband to come back to see me.

The first time I saw my husband and two of my children after surgery they looked petrified. I kept saying... I died. I died. I have to tell you about it and then passing out.

And me, being me, when I did tell them I also mentioned that I got ripped off with my near death experience!!  No meeting God or having my life flash before my eyes!! I got to see a flashback of someone I’d just met! LoL 

Ps: the mesh that was going to be removed? They couldn’t find it. It wasn’t there except for a tiny microscopic piece. My bladder was halfway removed and sliced two inches deep in several places just to look for it. Nope.

My doc called the hospital I’d had surgery in previously and demanded the surgery notes and it was in the notes that a mesh sling had been placed in there.

Gone.

Well, that’s not weird in any way......

He says it would be more dangerous to open me up to find it than to let it be. I’m not a doctor but I’m not real sure about that......

Can not answer questions tonight.

Be back soon

Me

Let’s touch base

It may feel as though in some ways I’ve changed the tone and feeling of this blog. Not as.... connecting, maybe, as the previous and in many ways I have.

I don’t want this blog to be that blog. I very much want this blog to be present. 

I want to focus on now. I bared much of my soul in the final months of the last blog and I don’t want to rehash or linger around sadness and pain.

Life is good right now. I’m happy. I love where I live. I love having just three of us in our home. I’m loving having grown children with families of their own. I love grandchildren which is a shocking turn of events! I am not a small child type person, with the exception of my own. I’ve never liked being around children. Thank God my house has always been the house to have the kids hanging out and sleepovers and running in and out the doors......... ( how did that even happen?) and so I thought... probably not gonna love being a Gi-Gi( don’t you call me grandma) I’m probably going to pat their dirty little heads, say “ aren’t you just the boyest boy ever?” And “ my how you’ve become such a girl with... hair” and meander by.

But guess what? I love them until my heart hurts. I want to hug them until their heads pop off. I love their voices, the magic in their eyes when they see the Christmas tree, the tiny way the girl one sings Let it Go as though she’s feeling every word from the deepest warmest parts of her tiny little heart.

I love the littlest boy one when he recognizes me on FaceTime and I’m teaching him how to blow raspberries ( No! Not motorboating!)  and he tries his hardest to do it back. How he grabs the phone to kiss his flat gi-gi in the talking box thing and then maybe try and chew on her too.

I can’t stop buying them things. Like, seriously, I can’t stop. I need a meeting. 

It’s fantastic and brings me more joy than I thought possible. In fact, it’s been in the last few years or so that I’ve wondered if I’ve ever truly felt joy. Joy! 

When my new psychiatrist asked me the question about feeling joy I told her, honestly, I think I’ve faked joy. I know what it’s suppose to look like. I know what things or events should spur on joy and so I act out joy. But later when the girl one said “ Gigi, look, Christmas is pretty” and she silently ran her finger down a tree decoration and leaned in to kiss the tree my heart ached with joy. 

I’m not forgetting. I’m not leaving. In fact I had a dream about bears recently and in the dream I asked “ how can life be if I never see or hear a bear again?”

I won’t entertain the thought.

It is however, good here. In this day. 

I’m healing. Getting the catheter out on Wednesday. Crossing fingers that that works out well and I’m human again! 

I’ll answer some emails this week and talk about the fact that I died during my operation. I’ve been processing that. You know me, analyzing the shit out of everything!

Night

Me