Shift Happens

Forcing myself to push outside my comfort zone is hard. This week I did just that, though, on several levels. My week began with a second treatment from my new acupuncturist. I've decided he's fine. He makes me laugh, and that laughter is healing in and of itself. The pain I've had for a year in the top of my left foot is now gone after one laser treatment. I am very impressed with that. When I walked in and relayed my physical ills to him, I followed-up with, "My chocolate addiction is out of control!" He treated that too, and I haven't craved or eaten chocolate or anything more than honey all week. Not eating sugar or chocolate feels really good for a change.

The only break here is that Larry and I tried a new restaurant (for us) in Westport, MA called Marguerite's last night. The food was fabulous. It was very simply prepared; seemed pretty low-fat, and tasted fresh and healthy. We shared steamed mussels in broth with garlic. He had salmon and I had Sole Piccata (Panko breaded and lightly fried with a lemon sauce and capers -- delish!). The asparagus was perfectly cooked with just the perfect little crunch. He liked the mashed potatoes and I liked the rice pilaf. The "piese-de-resistance", however, was the grapenut custard that tasted just like Gummy (my maternal grandmother) made. I felt like I died and went to Heaven. We will definitely go there again.

Thursday night I went to the first "open sing" of the spring season for the Tiverton Community Chorus. I was scared to death to go, but forced myself there. Larry volunteered to go with me for support, but I said, "No, you don't have to. I'm a big girl now." We laughed and I trudged out the door. I couldn't find my way into the church building until I walked around to the back. Then I couldn't get up to where a gentleman told me I should go because there was tape across the steps leading to the main Sanctuary with the strong smell of stain permeating the air inside the entrance. He ushered me downstairs and I followed the "registration" signs with arrows through the kitchen and up the other side; picked one of the three closed doors following singing and found a packed church. I was embarrassed to be the last one to arrive, and I thought they had just started. Later I learned the sing started at 7:00pm; not 7:30. Oh well. It must have been my nerves that read the newspaper wrong.

A woman from the back row at the farthest corner of the Sanctuary came to greet me; signed me in; gave me a packet of music that I was instructed I was only "borrowing"; was not to write in, and had to return it to her at the end of the night. I sat where I was directed, and saw a neighbor in the row in front of me who lived four houses down. Seeing her friendly face made me feel a lot better. The music director seemed to be more friendly when she was performing than when I called her at home last season about joining. I realized that night that she was just a professional, and I was approaching this as a "fun" activity. Although I let people around me know at the break how intimidated I was, they all assured me there was no need. "I lip sync when I lose my place," my neighbor said. Don't worry. And, the music director assured the five to six of us "newbies" that if we thought everyone in the room just read that last piece of music easily, we were sadly mistaken. I lightened up a little more.

As the evening went on, I realized how difficult the pieces were. I have not really read music since I was in the All Newton Chorus in middle school. This season's music will be hymns from all types of composers. There are several songs from Broadway: Godspell and Children of Eden (not produced), and Shaker songs. It was very interesting and not the kind of music I would be exposed to in any other context. I found that I had trouble following along because I was always a soprano (top line). I now designated my self an alto, and by the end of the night confirmed this was the correct choice for me now. But that means I have to sing the second line, and quickly finding it for each stanza down the page and turning pages is hard. By the end of the night, I decided I really wanted to do this for the challenge, for the brain exercise, for the social experience and for the wonderful music. I had forgotten how beautiful singing harmony with a hundred or so people in a room is. My soul filled up with the music and I got emotional at one point. I really wanted to do this.

Then I realized that the concerts are May 5th and 6th, and Larry and I had been casually talking about going to the lake house in South Carolina for the month of April. I invited my sister to come and a girlfriend. I can't join this chorus and not only go away for the month of April, but take another two weeks off when we go to Hawaii for ten days on March 7th. I was devastated to realize this scheduling conflict once again, and to also realize this would always be the case. I couldn't join last season for the Christmas concert because of a planned trip south. I realized later that I could have been part of it, since our trip got cancelled for multiple reasons. Then I got mad and yelled to myself, "This just sucks!"

I dumped all over Larry the next morning when he said, "My family will be disappointed," if we don't go in April when we said we would. I yelled, "I can't spend my life pleasing everyone. It's MY life!" It got uglier from there, so I won't humiliate myself or my husband by expounding it here. Suffice it to say I stormed out of the house to go meet my personal trainer for the first time and we talked in a calmer tone at dinner.

My trainer is a handsome young man, who was very chatty and very nice. He eased me into free weights and the machines. He stayed with me and counted as I did the exercises, "Two more now, then...that's it. Good job." We got to know each other a little as I worked out, and he was very conscious and considerate of my bad knees and made sure I let him know if anything hurt when I did it. We talked about my expectations of a trainer and he assured me that's what he did: push me when I don't want to and challenge me when I fight it. The time flew by, and it felt really good. I appreciated the one-on-one attention, the conversation that made the time fly by, and the small (a little too intimate) atmosphere. I didn't chat it up when others came to work out; just when the two trainers were in the room. I was alone to start and it helped with the "getting to know you" part of my experience. I signed up for ten sessions and have two scheduled for next week. I feel pretty good today. Nothing hurts. I just have to discuss the lack of stretching space there with my trainer. I didn't stretch at all when I was done. I know this is not a good thing.

I felt a little nausea when I was done working out, but happily I remembered to bring a TLC granola bar to nibble on with my water before heading home for a sandwich. After lunch, I went to meet my new massage therapist. She was just what I had hoped for: a hippy-dippy young women after my own heart. We both knew in our first telephone conversation that we'd hit it off, so our conversation was just right. She gave me a wonderful deep-tissue massage, and my body so needed it. She also alerted me to two ribs being "out" just below my clavacle, so next week, I'll have those addressed. She thinks they are contributing to my shoulder pain.

I also talked with her about connecting with a "spiritual" group in town, and she let me know her mother did holistic workshops. She shared a flyer for a women's workshop starting next week focused on the second chakra that sounds great. I'll probably call and sign up. I'm not sure what will happen with the chorus yet. I really want to do it and go to South Carolina in May. This will probably happen. I will probably also take the workshop that will end the day we leave for Hawaii. I need to call my neighbor and talk more about the chorus. We exchanged numbers that night. Another good thing.

Everything falls into place as it should, and time will tell how this all plays out.  I'll keep y'all posted. Thanks for listening.

Getting Moving

Outside Amicable Congregational Church

I read in the Sakonnet Times this morning that the Tiverton Community Chorus is starting up again. I wanted to join this chorus last season.  I thought I'd be away for five weeks during it, and the music director encouraged me not to come because I'd miss too many rehearsals. Even though the invitation in the newspaper seemed open and welcoming, she seemed strict and rigid. She reminded me of the nuns at St. Catherine's elementary school in Norwood, Massachusetts. I was afraid of them, but couldn't wait to carry the bag of my favorite each morning as we anxiously waited for them to come down the hill towards the school from the adjoining convent.

I still want to join the chorus, but I realized I am afraid. What could I possibly be afraid of? I love to sing. I used to be able to read music. If someone asked me to sing a "C" note, I couldn't, but I can follow a music sheet if given the starting note. I know what a whole note is, a half note and a sliding note. I can follow along quite well, and I would be part of a chorus after all. I can follow along with the section to which I become assigned: soprano or alto. I think now I am more comfortable as a alto, even though I spent my life as a soprano.

This is the display every Christmas.

And, joining the chorus would be an excellent opportunity to meet new people and make new friends in my town. The Amicable Congregational Church is not very far. It's just on the edge of Four Corners. I could walk there in nice weather. It meets every Thursday night from 7:30 to 9:30. Not bad. Is it that I don't want to make a commitment? Is television so important to me that I can't leave the house? That was the case periodically in my life. I want to move on from that reality in my retirement. Of course, my greatest wish remains to find something Larry and I can do together. But, other than attending plays through our subscription at the Huntington Theater in Boston and bowling every Tuesday night, that was the last time we had something fun to do together that brought us out. We stopped doing both because of the distance, and can't seem to find anything else right now.

I think the "chainsaw" artist did these.

I remain hopeful that I'll succeed in finding something eventually. Doing the chorus alone just reminds me of all the times I did things alone as a single woman. One of the reasons I got married was to not do everything alone again: chorus, exercise; whatever. We go to the movies occasionally. We had a movie date on New Year's Eve. We saw the latest Sherlock Holmes movie and it was fun. I guess I need more than the occasional outing, and feel a little guilty saying that out loud over and over again. Sorry, Larry,


Our social needs are just different I guess. I used to be such a "social butterfly". Now, my life is much more isolated. Country living is wonderful, but unless one gets one's butt out of the house, one spends way too much time alone. The problem is home is very comfortable, and I have gotten very lazy. It all seems like work, and I can't even get myself to clean. I just feel lazy. How long will I allow myself to stay home like this? I don't know. But now, Thursday night, the first night of Open Sing of the Chorus is looming large and weighing heavy.

Doing something I enjoy and getting out should be a light and enjoyable experience. Maybe I just have to shift my thinking and get my butt out the door at 7:15pm on Thursday. Maybe I have to make that call to get an hour with a personal trainer. More exercise would help elevate my energy level. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Stickin' Up for Me

It is very difficult finding new medical people I can trust. It is especially hard finding new "alternative" medical support. It is important to find someone who will allow me to feel safe and nurtured, while trusting their professionalism in order to be truly vulnerable, willing and able to receive the benefits of said treatment. I am mainly referring to acupuncture and chiropractic treatments.

I was introduced to both modalities by my physical therapist turned therapeutic massage therapist many years ago. I fought her gentle prods towards opening up to these treatments "tooth and nail". They were weird. They could hurt me. They were foreign. They had a bad "rep". They weren't covered by medical insurance. They were expensive. I was afraid. I talked with her over and over again about various styles of treatment. In chiropractic, it was "the crackers" versus "the healers".

I met my first chiropractor on a "singles" web site and had a couple of dates with him. After getting lots of information about chiropractic from him, I became his patient for about a year, and we stopped dating. His style of cracking me was a little off-putting at the time. I particularly didn't like when he crossed my arms over my chest while I laid flat, and he pounced on me with his full body weight to crack a difficult area between "my wings" in my middle back. I have since learned from other practicioners that this style has different forms: standing up or beginning in a sitting position and having him lean me back slowly to a lying position before applying pressure. The treatment works best if my muscles are not tight. At that time, they were extremely tight. I was not receiving regular massage therapy to help loosen me up and I was not stretching. Over time I discovered that the majority of my physical pain and headaches was/is due to tight muscles.

Since that first doctor, I have received treatment from at least a half-dozen more. Only one was female. I realized I prefer cracking with deep tissue massage or Active Release Techniques (ART) to "the activator" solely. My current new chiropractic doctor uses the former and the activator. He knows about ART, but I don't think he practices it. My former chiropractor did regularly perform ART on me, and I found this in addition to regular cracking (vertibral manipulation) works best for me. Now that we are living full-time in Rhode Island, travelling an hour and a half for an hour's treatment or fifteen minutes for chiropractic, just does not make sense anymore, especially with gas prices as high as they are. I like my new chiropractor and he seems to be doing a good job stabilizing my crackly, weak-feeling knees. My headaches are gone and my sinuses feel better. Chiropractic is now covered by insurance, and I only have a small co-pay.

It took me much longer to open to acupuncture. My last acupuncturist became my good friend. She has treated me for several years and became an emotional/spiritual counsellor as well. She has such a healing, nurturing, calming nature that I feel better just walking in her treatment room. I miss her dearly, even though she's a friend on Facebook, so finding a replacement for her will be much harder. I found a man with a practice I drive by a lot. My intuition kept his sign in my mind, and after calling around to practitioners from the Blue Cross web site with only one call-back (who was a woman who moved too far away for me), I found my car turning into his driveway last week on a whim. I got an appointment the next day and the treatment was very different. I have to pay $50 per treatment after the $75 initial treatment, but I will be filing forms to try and get some reimbursement from insurance. My ultimate goal is to find treatments that are mostly covered by insurance. Larry and I already pay over $800 per month for health insurance. I can no longer afford to pay huge amounts above this for my healthcare.

First of all, I am not used to being treated by a male for acupuncture. My whole orientation to it has been female. His style is more brusque, but he is very funny. We are of similar age, and talked about being from the same generation a lot. Without telling me ahead of time, after putting in the needles, he added a low-level laser block that he taped to the top of my left foot. I have a joint that has been bothering me for a year now, and nothing so far has helped the pain. It is difficult to walk with foot pain. It is best if one does not move after needles have been inserted, but I needed to see what was on my foot. Not only did he tape the block to my foot, assuring me that with two to three treatments, my foot would be so much better, he added electro-stimulation to one of the needles in my shoulder.

I looked to see what was causing my shoulder to jerk up and down more violently than I cared for. It was more like a strong muscle jerking motion, that I found disconcerting. It was an electrical clamp on the needle. I never saw what it was connected to, but I didn't like it very much. When I asked him what he was doing, he didn't give me information. It felt like he was pulling a male/female power trip: "You don't need to know. I know what's best for you." I don't deal with this behavior well anymore. I also picked up on what appeared to be a little arrogance when he said, "I am published. You can look me up on the web later for my work on "Naeser's laser" to relieve carpal tunnel pain." I thought he was making a joke with the "Naeser's laser" thing, but I did: http://www.gancao.net/acupuncture/laser/carpal-tunnel-syndrome-243. I need to find out more about the electro-stimulation he did to me before I allow it again. I have to admit, though, that both my shoulder and my foot feel much better.

I am seeing him again tomorrow. I will have a discussion with him about his non-communicative style. If I don't get a satisfactory reaction from him, i.e., he acknowledges it and gives me more information when I ask for it; thereby showing me more respect, I will just leave and look for another practicioner. I asked my old acupuncturist friend if she thought this behavior was a male/female power-trip thing or just a style difference, and she thinks it's the latter. I think the jury is still out on this one, but I'm opening to exploring it further. I have learned over time that acupuncture works for me. It removes pain and anxiety. It helps me sleep better and sweat less during the night. Often times, I am reminded of this fact when I stop going and the symptoms I forgot I had return. Acupuncture and herbs is how I successfully got through menopause without hormones.

Combining Eastern and Western medicine alternatives are key to my continued good health. Of this I am certain. I just have to add regular massage therapy and get it all mostly covered by insurance. The latter will require more research. These alternative medical options are focused on my body healing itself. I like the whole idea of that. I hate taking medication. I don't like the side effects, or the long-term implications of powerful chemicals' affects on my body. If I have to take them, I will. I'm taking Simvastatin for my high cholesterol now, after fighting the idea of it. It's no big deal. I still think of the long-term ramifications of the drug on my liver, for example, but for now I take it and shut up about it.

At least I am finding my health support system locally now, and I feel really good about that.

And in the beginning, Light was created.

It's that time of year again, when I have to decide: to Resolve or not to Resolve? Resolutions seem more like a process one continues throughout the year than a life-changing decision to make on New Year's Eve or Day, whichever means more to you. When does one begin again? The first day of the calendar year, the Spring Equinox, my birthday? I usually talk about new beginnings on all three occasions. I am a believer in "do-overs". And as a believer in re-do's, I keep re-doing all year long!

At the start of each day, I resolve to go for a walk, eat healthily and drink more water. I resolve to take a few minutes to meditate and to write. Some days I do it all. Many others, I do not. At this phase of my life, I am granting myself more Grace in these times of struggle. If I achieve my daily goals, I give myself a quiet pat on the back. If I do not, my old self starts bringing out "the big stick" to beat me with, but my new self quietly holds the other's hand back and gently says, "No, no. This is not required anymore. Thank you, though."

Life is a process. It's a journey. It's about enjoying the ride. It's about having fun and laughing out loud. It's full of singing and dancing. At least, this is what I keep reminding myself that it is. When that old voice pops up in my head to bring me into "stinkin' thinkin'" again, I encourage, no, I plead with my new voice to silence the old. I am tired of feeling guilty for not doing what I know I should be doing to be healthy and happy. I am healthy and happy. I have to keep reminding myself I have succeeded, and I don't have to try anymore. I can just enjoy the ride.

So, as you walse into this new year, say, "Thank you" to 2011. Say, "Bye, bye and have a nice day" to it, once and for all. Every day is a new beginning; every breath we are granted in this life is a Gift. Enjoy all the gifts you are given: large and small. It's not just about the Kindle I got for Christmas, it's also about my knees that are still working so I can walk on the beach with my puppies every day. At least, that's what I am resolving to do today.

Happy New Year and Peace be with Us.

.."An apple, a pear, a plum and a cherry..."

I just love the ancient folk song, "A Soul Cake", I recently heard it sung by Sting on the radio. It made me want to "bake my brains out". So last Thursday and Friday, I did just that. Not the baked brains part, but, well, you know what I mean.

I was assigned to bring bread and salad to the family Christmas party on Saturday, so I decided to make "Gummy's Bread". I grew up in my maternal grandmother's kitchen watching her bake molasses bread and rolls often. One of my fondest memories of childhood is baking for something to do. We baked pies, cookies and made boiled fudge when we got bored. I still love to bake, but I discovered that, like anything else, you have to stay in practice for it to come out right.

I went to the local store for flour and nutmeg. A young woman behind the counter with a Santa hat on said, "Gonna do some baking?" I said, "Yes. I'm making my grandmother's bread." She asked, "Do you have a bread machine?" I said, "No. I do it the old-fashioned way with a mixing bowl and kneading dough." She exclaimed, "Oh wow." I thought, young people today, and smiled to myself.

Gummy's bread takes all day to make. There are two risings for two or more hours each time, and the kneading hurt my carpal tunnel right wrist. But the smell of yeast and molasses as I kneaded the dough brought me right back to Gummy's kitchen. I bought a couple of new Christmas CDs this year: Yo Yo Ma and Friends and one with a variety of contemporary women, like Beyonce, singing songs of the season. I also had some of my favorites queued up like Clay Aiken. I just love his "Mary's Baby Boy", and Sarah McLaughlin's, "River". My all time favorite is Emmylou Harris's, "Light of the Stable". There was another variety CD I bought at StarBucks a few years ago called, "Santa Baby". As I sang along to my favorite Christmas songs, I happily kneaded bread and smelled my memories wafting through my mind. It was such a calming and healing festive activity.

While the bread was rising, I began measuring brown sugar, flour, cinnamon and nutmeg to make the "Cranapple Walnut" cake recipe from Moosewood. It is my favorite cake recipe, and after making one for Larry and I to eat with coffee every morning, I made one for each of my siblings. I had leftover festive holiday, ceramic baking dishes that I made the cakes in and gave one to each of my siblings. It made me feel good to give them something, and reminded me once again, that in the future, I want to get back to making presents instead of buying them. Making homemade gifts is totally doable, it just requires some planning.

The problem with multi-tasking, is paying attention. While making sure the cake came out moist, I over cooked the bread. I wasn't used to making it in muffin pans, especially mini-muffins, so my lesson there was, "Don't use the time according to the recipe." Pay more attention, and bake it in shorter intervals. I still overbaked it, and the rolls came out dry. I made white rolls the second day, and they also were dry.

I was very embarrassed and disappointed by my efforts, although my family was very kind. Brother Jimmy was honest at my encouragement. He took a bite then trashed the rest. Sistah Margie said it was delicious and just needed butter. Niece Tricia exclaimed, "Why don't you let me taste it first before you discourage me from trying!" I couldn't help it. I slaved over this food, and didn't want to imagine whispers behind my back of how dry it was. I just wanted to fess up and declare my failure. But it wasn't a total failure. I loved making it, and some people ate it. That's good, right? The point is, we all enjoyed a good laugh and I had fun. Isn't that part of the "holiday season"? Merry Christmas and Happy Chanukah to all. Love and Peace.

Sunset; Moonset

After spending the last couple of weeks in a dark emotional and spiritual place, I woke up to a full-moon set early this morning and felt saved. The full moon sitting over the river with hues of soft pinks and blues soothed my aching heart and head. My spirit was uplifted in a moment. I went back to bed after letting the puppies out to pee, but didn't stay there long. I got up and dressed. After feeding the pups and making coffee, I took them for a walk to the beach down the street.

They towed me forward in the crisp cold air, and I just breathed it in. It was the first cold morning I was out, and on the "loop" road, puddles were coated with ice. I got excited for winter to finally arrive. I never thought I'd ever hear myself say that, but this unseasonal weather (while very nice), is a little creepy. Sixty degree weather in December in New England is "just wrong"! Winter's arrival was also confirmed when on our way home, we saw "the oyster guy" cranking his boat up onto the trailer to be launched next season. His dingy sat on the mooring looking very lonely indeed. Winter is coming!

Last night, I went to a very sweet Christmas musical play in Oxford, MA at the Oak Hill Bible Church with my friend, Joyce, at her invitation. I had no idea what to expect, and really didn't care. I was open to anything. I love musicals and live entertainment, so whatever it was going to be was okay with me.
The story was set in the fictional Valley Haven Nursing Home. The main character was a crotchity old woman, whose character was so dead on, she reminded me of my late mother-in-law while she resided in a nursing home. It was a little too familiar, but opened my eyes to the loneliness and bitter hopelessness experienced by many of our elderly whose children can no longer care for them safely at home. Her rants of wanting to stay in her room; protecting her pocketbook, and accusing everyone of stealing from her rang a little too true. But, my heart went out to my poor late mother-in-law because this character showed me it wasn't just her: that anger and bitterness can happen to many who feel left behind and alone or left out. The play had a happy ending and Joyce and I sang along quietly to the familiar Christmas songs like, Joy to the World and I'll Be Home for Christmas.

For the first time this season, my heart opened to Christmas and the Joy I have always felt at this time of year. It was open and ready for the moonset this morning that put me in a whole new spiritual Light.

Bring it on! The radio is set to a channel that is playing round-the-clock Christmas songs. I can listen to them now and let the happiness heal my heart. Thank you Jesus!

Circling In The Fog

Larry and I were sitting on the sofa with our two puppies enjoying our first cup of coffee and the view out our beautiful windows, as we do every morning. Fog was thick on the Sakonnet River this morning. A lobster boat came up river and began to circle around slowly searching for its buoys. While the boat circled, I thought about how I've been feeling lately. My mind felt like that circling boat searching with its lights; feebly trying to break through the thick fog to find each buoy that represents a Life pleasure, one by one.

I know that just being alive is a Blessing. I also treasure my good health, my wonderful family and friends, and every other blessing I enjoy. They are all buoys on the River that is my Blessed Life. But, even people who are lucky enough to make choices that create a charmed existence get caught in the current or rip-tides of Life from time-to-time. I feel a current carrying me down river quickly these days, but I depend on the ropes that anchor my buoys to slow down my flow. I click on my high beams to find my way to the Christmas lights shining through our windows to call me home and to safety. I don't feel afraid or unsure, I just feel really tired and weighted down by Life events. I struggle each day to buoy myself up.

I am grateful I am not struggling with cancer like my sister. As she fights to recover from the intense surgery she had a week ago tomorrow to remove her retroperitoneal sarcoma, the recovery process seems more difficult than the surgery itself. I feel badly that she must endure so much pain. I wish I had a magic wand to wish away all her suffering. Then, I wish I could wish away the heartbreak my son and his wife continue to endure from the sudden death of their sweet son inutero: my second grandson. The first was lost just sixteen months previously. Although I am doing better emotionally than they are, I remain weighted down by sadness. I can intellectualize it all, and I can ignore or exercise or meditate to a lighter state of being, but then the current catches me again.

My heavier mood is causing me to behave unpredictably. I get major stress headaches from minor incidences, like drivers pulling out in front of me in traffic or puppies who insist on going out yet again, when I want to enjoy my cup of hot tea to relax. I have no role in the sad life events I listed above, and that is causing me stress. I've always had a role: I am the oldest of twelve siblings. I am a caretaker and a nurturer. I had a primary role in taking care of Larry's mother and sister when they were sick and dying. I was a primary caretaker for my mother when she was sick and dying from breast cancer. I held vigil while my maternal grandmother lay dying. But, I can't help or fix my son's broken heart. I can't hold vigil on their sadness. My sister chooses to approach her disease and recovery independently, like the Warrior Woman she is. I applaud her choice, but where does it leave me?

My sister-in-law has been using me as her information resource about my sister. Initially, I complied with this role, but then I realized I began to resent it. After her third phone message to provide her with a status report, I got very angry. I didn't want to be in this role.  I was already driving our friend staying with us three hours round trip each day to the hospital, and was feeling weighted down in general. After the first phone call, I felt annoyed, but bit my tongue and gave her the information she needed. I also encouraged her to just go see her sister-in-law and find out what she needed instead of my trying to answer her question of "What should I bring?". With the second message, I felt more annoyed and did not call her.  When I received the third message to report, I felt like I was being treated like a personal assistant with no consideration from her for what I was already doing, and could not understand why she just did not make her own phone call to my sister to find out her status. She told me she had the day off on Friday. If she couldn't go see her after all, why couldn't she just call herself? Why did she need me to keep her informed? I didn't want to take care of her anymore. I wanted her to take care of herself.

When I first saw her in the hospital, I realized I could not keep my feelings to myself. I made the mistake of telling her how I was feeling. I tried to provide as complete an explanation as I could when we were alone,  and thought I had succeeded in explaining myself. But later when I received three text messages from her, I realized I had failed, and I hurt her feelings. I left her a long rambling voicemail, but I'm sure all she heard was my irritated tone. I'm sure she didn't hear the repeated "I'm sorry" or "I love you" or "I'm in a really bad place right now and not handling this well". I still can't talk to her. I am lost in the fog.