Water jugs...

Today I threw away, well recycled, my “hospital” water jugs. Most of you know what I mean…the plastic water glasses that they give you while in the clink, that you take home and eventually have a plethora of. Well today, I let them go.

This was a big deal for me. First of all, they’re terribly convenient. They have measurements printed on them so you can tell how much water you’ve consumed. Which, for me, is important. I have to consume an obscene amount of water, being sans colon and all. Second, they represent a horrible time in my life. They “conveniently” have the name of the hospital printed on them, so every time I look at one, I am taken back to that time when life seemed at it’s worst. I am reminded of the pain and uncertainty that took up my days.

It’s funny, I had never even thought about it before. They were just part of my life. But, as my family and I are getting settled into our new home and life, I looked at them. I was going to wash and stash them as usual. Then, I thought, why? I don’t NEED them. Why am I hanging on to them? That period in my life was over 3 years ago, and it’s NOT my life anymore. So, I let them go. I want to leave that chapter in my life behind me.

I’m amazed at how something that seems so insignificant can actually mean a great deal. I wonder what other “things” I’ll discover that remind of that time?

For those of you who are wondering if I have a new water jug, I indeed do! I bought it at a gas station in Washburn, WI. It has “Holiday” printed in bright red letters on the side. Even thought it’s the name of the gas station, I find it a nice reminder that each new day that I am blessed to live, it’s a jolly holiday.

So, today I finally got to see my pain management specialist. It was good to see her, but frustrating because I had to recap the last 8 months for her in about 5 minutes. After dishing it all out to her, she came to a brilliant conclusion about my pain. I am under too much stress. She kinda chuckled when she told me this because it always seems to be her answer. 

Me? Stressed? How ever did she figure that out? Was it the fact that I am in horrid pain 24/7? Or the fact that the hubs has been without a job since the beginning of January? Or the fact that my jpouch has never acted right, and causes problems in my daily life? What was the dead give away on that one? I had even told her that I have one foot in the ER door because the pain and pouch are so bad. She told me that going to the hospital would only add to my stress, and I should stay home and rest. Rest? At home? Good one. 

She also suggested that I go to therapy or their yoga for pain patients. Those are both great suggestions. There are a couple problems, however. One, I am broke. Two, when I am this tired, I am terrified to drive. Not only am I tired from lack of sleep, but I am also narcoleptic. I have fallen asleep behind the wheel before. It's very scary. So, I am a prisoner at home for more than one reason.

I feel like I am in the midst of this cycle that I can't escape. I can't plan for anything. I try not to look forward to things. I am stuck.

Quitting cold turkey

   I had this brilliant plan to quite Paxil...cold, frozen, turkey. Why? Well, I didn't want to refill my prescription and I really want to be done with it! And I'm sure a small ounce of insanity comes into play. It hasn't been the easiest thing, I swear I could quit smoking smelly old cigarettes easier! 

   I know you're supposed to ween yourself off over time, and even though the side effects are less sever, they're just there for longer. The odd thing is that my side effects are nothing like the ones most people seem to experience. Could it be because I'm sans colon? Ya know, for an organ I can live without, it seems to have a large effect on the way my body works. Last night, for example, one minute I was knitting and the next, it's 6 hours later and I have no idea how or when I fell asleep. Normally I wouldn't mind, but I was sitting with the boo boo, and I really hope I didn't frighten her. 

   Yeah, I know I'm kind of rambling. One of the more interesting side effects it total lack of concentration and a "fuzzy" brain. That's all my already over worked brain needs...

It's been a while...

and I wish my first post in months could be a happier one. Sorry, folks, not today.

    Ask anyone who knows me, I try and stay as upbeat as possible. It doesn't help my disease to be melancholy all the time. But this past week hasn't been a good one for me. Between pain, sleepless nights, and lovely surprises in my pj's for several nights, it's wearing. Not to mention that I have no energy, and the simplest tasks leave me feeling pants and bed ridden all day. I don't know if it's the weather, after all, the Midwest is the land of no sunshine in the winter, or that I haven't left the house very much, or all the Christmas presents I'm knitting aren't turning out the way I want, or the fact that I really want to reach out and help others with IBD, but every effort has been denied, I'm trying my hardest to not be down in the dumps. Yes, that pun was intended. I usually try and keep outside frustrations away from my disease frustrations, but this time, it seems as if it's all just blending together and I feel trapped.

   Don't get me wrong, I'm not shuffling around the house in my robe and slippers, muttering things to myself. Okay, I'm not wearing a robe, but all the rest is just normal for me. It's just that my frame of mind is a little shadowed.

   I will say one thing, I am going to try and start writing on here regularly. I just don't like "blogs". For the most part, they're just people talking about themselves and not really contributing anything worthwhile...forgive my snarkiness, I'm just not Suzie Sunshine today.

Why fishing is the perfect sport for gay men...*

*Now, before you go gettin your panties in a budge, I am not trying to be disrepectful in any way. I find humour in everything, especially myself. So, if you can't read certain things without getting your Schwartz all twisted, move along.....

As I tour the many bait shops and watch all the boats up here in northern Wisconsin, several things have occured to me.

#1....fishermen LOVE shiny things. The more sparkly, the better. Ever looked in a fisherman's tackle box??? We're talking feathers, shiny metal lures, and all sorts of other shiny objects to attract fish.

#2....their boats are fabulous! I saw a boat the other day that was HOT pink and grey (which happen to be my favorite colours right now). It was amazing! And who should happen to be in said boat? An 80 year old man! But, bright colours attract fish. So, there you go.

#3...talk about accessorizing! These fellas have some of the best gear around, particularly the hats! One of the main rules of fishing is you have to have a fishing hat. I even have one. It was $7 at Wally-World, complete with camo and pink embroidery. I look quite smashing in it!

#4....even the terminology works. You've got 'drag', 'rod', 'fish nets', 'jig', 'anal fin'...there's a million of 'em!

Get my point yet???

Bloody knuckles....for real!

I woke up jazzed about "hitting" the heavy bag again! Then, I washed my hands after the morning trip to the loo and let's just say it was not a pleasant experience! I literally hit the bag so hard, bare knuckled yesterday, that I took skin off my hands! Making a fist hurts, so I can't imagine wrapping them and punching with the sparring gloves the hubs found. Merd! I really wanted to get some aggression out. 

Then, the OTHER thing hit me. Exhaustion! The thing about living in the Rizzo (Arizona) is that when it's humid, even just a bit, it's like hell. I seriously think hell is colder! I worked out between 8 and 9 am. No sun hitting me yet, just good old fashioned heat and sweat. I made sure to drink lots of water during the work out and the rest of the day. I rested and napped after my work out, showered, and ate a decent sized lunch and supper. I went to bed at the normal time, slept like a log. And woke up DEAD ASS TIRED!!! *insert swear word*

I wanted to get upset and mad and curse this lame body of mine. Then I told myself that I have NO muscles....except the ones I use on a daily basis. Not to get into my whole story, but I was in a bed for basically a year, then recovering for a year, and I haven't truly exercised for more than a few days for about a week or two. But....every time I got this fatigued, I'd get discouraged and stop. That's where y'all come in!!!

I am going to rest today. My eyelids are tired, that tells me my body needs a break for today. BUT, just for today. I will get some form of exercise tomorrow. I think I'll try the heavy bag again, even if my hands still hurt. I like hitting it. I won't lie and say I don't have some pent up anger about how my surgeries went. I'm not going to dwell on that any longer. I have wasted too much time being pissed off. I think I'll use it to my advantage. Maybe I'll take some boxing classes when I get some muscle definition and stamina back. Who knows? Maybe I'll become professional boxer and spread IBD awareness that way.

As I look at who I am inside (I may as well, heck, tons of doctors have!), I realize that the outside does NOT match. For 4 years, I've been dreaming of the day when I can start being active again. What the hell have I been waiting for?! I am a firm believer that if you don't like something about yourself, CHANGE IT! Why wasn't I living my mantra? Perhaps it's fear, or just being comfortable with what I know. I'm sure it's both. I had to live a certain way for a long time, and I don't have to anymore! I know that I'll never look or act like the 23 year old version of myself that the hubs fell in love with. And I am perfectly fine with that! I like me, and I want to love me!

 Anywho, after the third day in a row where my thighs rubbed together so badly that I chaffed, I decided to take charge of myself! (Isn't that what I went through everything for??) I need to fix what I don't like and fine tune what I do. I changed the situation so it benefits my whole family. Isn't the old saying if mamma's happy, the house is happy? Well, I am a VERY happy wife and mother, but not jazzed as a woman. I've always wanted to do crazy type things. For one of my birthdays, the hubs sent me sky diving. Check that off my bucket list. Other things I'd love to try: roller derby, race car driving, bungee jumping, cliff diving....to name a few, AND boxing! I have always wanted to get in the ring and kick someone's ass, and then hug them afterwards. Well, we have a bag hanging up in the back yard. And, it's great for aggression. So, to make this LONG story a tad shorter, I dug out my sports bra(s), the girls have blown up thanks to weight gain, took my laptop outside, kicked my flip flops off, and went to town. Incidentally, if you plug Rob Zombie into Pandora, you get kick ass work out music! (Of course, zombies are some how involved!) I couldn't find the wraps or gloves, so I bare knuckled it. Hey, I'm Welsh, we like to scrap. 

So, I've decided to pick boxing as my work out of choice. BUT, I NEED HELP!!!! So, those of you who read this, bug me about it everyday. Email me, IM me, text me....whatever. There may be some days when I can't do it because I don't have a colon and water loss is a worry. Hey, I live in the desert. No colon and 100+ weather are NOT a good mix. Not to fear, I won't use that as an excuse. I never have and I'm not gonna start now. 

So, without further ado, here are the pics from day one of "Jackie's boxing transformation".