Betsy says hello!

From the Cleveland Clinic:



She is doing okay so far, I'm happy to report!

-Maggie

From a family member

This is Elizabeth (Betsy)'s sister, Maggie. I am posting on her blog today because her illness, which she has mentioned here in the past, has intensified recently and she is not responding to medication as we hoped. She has been admitted to the hospital (I believe for about a week) while her condition is examined and the doctors try to get her symptoms under control. At this point there has not been a decision made about surgery. Please pray for her and for our family. I know she would want everyone to know what was going on lest they think she had abandoned her blog :)

Today Is Memorial Day

My little brother is currently in Quantico, Virgina, training with his Marines.

When I was very young, I did not believe there was anymore war. Of course, I knew about Saddam Hussein, and the oil fields he was burning at that time. But he was an anomaly; a shock. (One country invades another? What a nervy idea!)

I really firmly believed that my grown-ups out grew war-making long ago. Alas, it is not so. We are not grown up at all, only pretending. Just as tantrum-prone, afraid, and vulnerable in our world as toddlers in the sandbox.

Where's the Beef?

Here's the beef. The thing my puny weak iron deficient body likes best is fresh, well-cooked cow on a bun. Just recently I was allowed to eat one; I tell you, it was better than narcotics.

Other people think the same way, you know. Kayla Kromer made a Hamburger Bed out of an old mattress and some re-purposed panty hose (they make great sesame seeds.)

You can visit her site to learn of the origins of the Hamburger Bed and what you'll need to make your own. (Ms. Kromer's creation is not for sale.)

Fighting Blog Fade

You know, I don't think this lull in posting constitutes blog fade. It's not that I don't plan interesting things to talk about ... just that I've been way too out of it to sit still and upright for 15 minutes and do it. Things seem to be looking up, however, since yesterday I enjoyed a burger and a slice of yummy Unexpected Chocolate Cake ( the best kind,) donated to the cause by a lovely friend.

I look back at the last two months and am very grateful that I have not missed a single day of work. Although there were periods where I definitely was not performing my duties at 100% capacity, I was able to make it through. This tells me that I am still not being controlled by the disease.

Since surgery is a possibility at this point, I've been doing my research. There are a lot of support groups out there; I was particularly amused by Shaz's Ostomy Pages.

Since I am young, my doctors have always strongly recommended the "J-pouch" surgery, which makes it possible to go through life without being attached to a poop bag. I am not and have never been particularly hung up over the idea of an ostomy, however. Perhaps I am strange, but to me it seems little different from having an artificial limb, and who'd be embarrassed by that?

Sorry. Sick Again.

How tired I am. There are 115 messages in my mailbox and I cannot summon the power to open any of them.

My doctor talks of this experimental stuff; she can teach me to give myself injections at home ... I thought that would be interesting, sort of a go at playing diabetic.

It is remarkable to me. Because I am not doing anything which requires so much energy. But somehow I am too tired to hold open a book.

On a Bookmark Found in a Picture Book

"If I had My Child to Raise Over Again"

If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later,
I'd finger-paint more, and point the finger less,
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
[...]
I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often.
I would be firm less often, and affirm much more [...]" etc.,

~ Diane Loomans

The point of Ms. Looman's poem may as well be: "If I Had My Child to Raise Over Again ... I'd turn him into a horrifically neurotic, self-absorbed mess."

Evil Prednisone

I have not updated recently because I became rather violently ill this past week, and so was forced to mostly lay in bed and watch my father dismantle the room around me. (It has to be taken apart so as to be painted.)

I have just this past evening took my first dose of Evil Prednisone. Already the poisonous, bone-leeching little steroid has given me a happy burst of energy and appetite.

So, hopefully I will be more doing more around here the next few days.