Tag Archives: mental health

Early Morning Pain Diary

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It is 3:37am and I am overthinking pain and I am sitting in my sewing room and writing here, hoping it will dissipate and I can go back to sleep. It is my niece’s 15th birthday tomorrow and I am hoping to go to her celebratory breakfast. On the table beside me is a pill bottle with Oxycodone in it, the pill that works but that I don’t like; I feel it makes me edgy and nervous, and I am already edgy and nervous now.

I found something on the internet last night that said to write when one is overthinking. I find it helps, if only to track the racing thoughts and feelings of pain so that I can reflect on them later. This pain is wild: it starts in my back just below my shoulder blades and goes down near my kidneys then wraps around to the soft parts of my belly, which are swollen. I don’t think I am digesting food well: it feels stuck. I miss enjoying eating and drinking things, and I miss not being in pain every moment of every day. My legs and feet are so swollen with edema, and the swelling stretches all the way into my mid-belly now, misshaping my hips and my tummy and making me feel like I am sloshing around with extra water, 17 pounds of it at the last check. It all feels insane. How has this happened and why is it happening?

It is impossible to feel comfortable almost anywhere. It feels like my body is rebelling against me and I don’t know what it is trying to tell me except that many of its systems are angry, riled up, inflamed, shrieking! I had to leave work earlier today because my legs were so swollen and my back was hurting so much that I couldn’t concentrate and I was worried about being able to drive safely in my mental state. I hustled out the door in tears, apologizing for something that I cannot explain.

I just took one Oxycodone 5mg: I guess we are getting a play-by-play this morning. I keep wondering what this experience is supposed to teach me. I am so confused and clouded by the symptoms of pain and physical discomfort, that the only thing I can pay attention to is how much my friends love me and communicate with me and wish to help. It is so wonderful: I feel like I am in this pink cloud of love, made of all these people who love me and want me to feel better. I can’t believe there was ever a time when I worried about being alone. I have been reflecting on my post from last week when I wrote about my experience in the hospital when I was in high school. Something in my body knew something was up: I was in the ER the next day and now upon this journey which appears to be just beginning.

I worry about how I am going to pay for things now that I am not working very much. Do I call the credit card company and tell them what is happening and ask them to pause for me for a month? What about the student loan company? It seems worth a try as there is no way around how this feels: debilitating. I wish pain pills helped instantaneously and I wish they didn’t mess up my stomach. I can’t figure out if all of these medicines are helping at all. They must be? It is so confusing.

One of the other things I am able to focus on reflecting upon is how many things about health that I took for granted: walking long distances at a fast pace, munching on delicious food that made me feel good inside, sleeping through the night now that I have an Estrogen patch, and drinking a glass of rose with friends on a beautiful afternoon. All of those things are on pause. My work is on pause, and by that I mean my creative work, as I can’t focus on it and have no follow through and not much strength to do anything. It feels scary, it feels lonely, and I cannot get comfortable. My sweet husband has been doing everything, and I feel bad about that, too.

My doctor tells me I have to let go of all of those feelings and be willing to accept help. I am, I think. I mostly feel guilty about Cody having to do everything. But so far, at least to me, he is willing and not too exhausted. Right now, as I sit here typing, I am moving my body back and forth in the chair in a vain attempt to alleviate pain, to stretch something that is taught, to do anything to help. No luck.

Dear Universe, please help me move beyond this pain state, and may the surgery being done Friday be safe and go well and remove some samples that can help us understand what is going on so that my body can heal itself. This is hard, y’all. Love.

Lyme Diaries – Hot Showers & Tummy Aches

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I started having symptoms of what I thought was anaplasmosis on Tuesday, June 24th: my half birthday, no less. Turns out it was anaplasmosis and Lyme disease, and I have had a stomachache since that day, every day, without fail. It is becoming frustrating and demoralizing. A monthlong stomachache!

In good news, I followed my doctor’s advice and started to use heat to help with pain and have been taking very, very hot showers. Almost immediately they stop the nerve pain, as if my body gets distracted by the heat from the pain and all the attention goes to it observing, “wow it is hot and that feels good!”.

I woke up at 4am this morning with a stomachache. I also have edema, as of two days ago, which either means the bacteria is causing it, or one of the medicines I am on is causing it. I tried and failed to not take any pain medicine last night, even though I have to say that the pain is much better than it has been.

This is a journey, and a difficult one at that. No one seems to know much and every time I ask they all say, “everyone is different?” and while logically, biologically, I understand that, it is a very annoying thing to say to someone who is just looking for answers as to why her stomach has hurt every day for a month, and why now her legs are swelling so much that squatting down is uncomfortable and feels like I am wearing a pair of tight pants.

My doctor also told me to keep a positive attitude so here goes:

  1. Super thankful for Cody cooking dinner last night. We made polish sausage and cabbage and I wonder if the cabbage has made my tummy upset. But it was so delicious and our first cabbage from the garden!
  2. Super thankful for my devoted doggo, Oscar. He never leaves my side.
  3. Super thankful for my cute and sweet and not stressful job. I could not teach and go through this at the same time, no way.
  4. Maine summer and the garden, even though I can’t go in the sun.
  5. Flowers! Stars! Winds of change! All of the natural processes that go on around me while I wonder when this will feel better.

It is now 5:58 and I am wondering if it is worth it to try to go back to bed, but my stomach says no. I hope you’re well out there and helping me ideate a tiny bazooka for all the ticks.

Lyme Diaries – Weird Thoughts

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This is my fourth week of antibiotics for Lyme disease. It appears that I have chronic Lyme and may have had an infection years ago, or months ago, or who knows, that is now flaring up with all sorts of weird symptoms.

One of the big ones is appetite related. My stomach hurts almost all the time, and so I don’t want to eat. Not wanting to eat oversimplifies the feeling; I think my body is telling me not to eat because I feel so sick. But if I tell it no, and eat food, I feel better.

Here we are in the mind-fuck part of Lyme disease: it is like it is trying to trick you into doing things that aren’t good for you. I know that other diseases and conditions can do this, so it isn’t a huge surprise but also — it is? How can this be caused by a tiny spirochete bacteria named Borellia bugdorferi?

Right now I am drinking water with a splash of bitters in it. It is late on a summer night. My back hurts alot but I am hoping a hot shower will help (learned that trick last night). I am trying to not take anti-nausea medicine as it really messes up my digestion, which is already messed up thanks to antibiotics (doxycycline). My solution? Keep taking the Doxy and start to carve small, life-sized charms of Doxy pills. You gotta laugh.

My husband and I are having issues as he can’t do anything about my illness and so is becoming irritated at its longevity. I keep telling him that it bothers me (probably) more than him, but … I just don’t have any energy for anyone even myself right now, and for that, I feel very bad. I feel that it is a major accomplishment that I get an outfit together (with jewelry!), get some food together and get to work. I also feel accomplished that I am able to fake it at work every day, sort of; I am able to maintain and get things done. I hate to feel this selfish, but when he gets frustrated with it, I either get frustrated back or just get so tired I just kind of shut down.

The mind fuck of it all. What IS Lyme disease? No one knows. So many people have it. How is that possible. When might there be a vaccine? When did life get so complicated? Is our country changing irrevocably? I lost another friend to pancreatic cancer last week; why isn’t there a screening tool for it when so many people die of it so young? This life is so mysterious and makes less sense the more time I hang out here.

Sending love to you – I hope you are all right. Hang in there, baby.

I love this sweet song – I am not a super Taylor Swift fan (don’t tell anyone!), but this one really struck me today.

Ho hum

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Here are the difficulties of mid-life. I will be 45 in a few months, and my husband will be 47. Today I was telling a story about jewelry school; a short story about a stone seller on a motorcycle with a backpack full of gemstones, and I realized how much I missed a sense of freedom.

Here I am, almost 45. I “own” a house, which means I pay a mortgage on it every month, and insurance, and taxes. I pay the same in my own life, and try to save money. I work at a friend’s gallery in the hopes of taking it over in a year or so, but all the while knowing that I am not earning what I need to earn to have the life I want. I feel like sometimes I am living in a limbo of the future: waiting. Why am I doing that when I could be actively pursuing the present? But I am doing that, too, going to work every day and enjoying it despite a greatly reduced salary. It feels unsustainable, and like something will have to shift. It’s like I want to live here, but living here is so difficult because there are so few people to sustain the place. So few good jobs, and a seasonal culture that tempts you to participate in it because you have so much time to yourself in the dark and cold days.

I don’t want to complain, and don’t think I am doing that, exactly. My husband who used to be happy and silly is hard and angry now, so upset about something I don’t understand. It’s like the last year has changed him into a stranger; someone who seeks to find something wrong with things. I seek to find things that are right, and to be ok with things if they aren’t. I get mad about the big issues, but all in all, I am happy with my daily home life. I don’t understand why he isn’t, and I don’t understand what is making him so angry.

His coworker was murdered a year and two months ago, and that has something to do with it, although I won’t know what for a long time; that kind of thing takes a long time to process. He became so emotionally entangled with his boss, a man who outwardly seems friendly and engaged, but inwardly has no capacity to talk about hard things. It is as if C feels that he is responsible for his boss’ emotions, when that is impossible. When he said he wanted to go to another, different job, the man asked him to stay repeatedly, and non-sensically, saying things like “I will make all your dreams come true!”. What does that even mean? Why would he say something like that to his employee; it is so manipulative. So is never speaking about the employee who was murdered, acknowledging her death, or offering support if support was needed.

I feel compassion and care for my husband, of course I do. In some moments he seems clear again, with a plan. Sometimes it seems like he wants the future to be exactly what he wants, and doesn’t think about what I might want, and how those things can go together. Sometimes, I wish we had never come here, and sometimes, I am thankful that all these things are coming out. Most of the time, lately, I am just very confused about the state of the big world and the state of my world, and how my world feels so different and off. I am thankful for the experience, but wish it could be different than it is.

Bah! An impossible want; to know what it is one is supposed to do with one’s life!?! How do you ever know?

Tick-Borne Illness Discoveries

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Current diagnoses: Lyme disease and anaplasmosis

Current feels: meh? The mornings are usually ok as long as I follow —

Current regimen: Get up, drink water, eat something and take medicine

Current prescriptions: Doxycycline twice per day, Ondanestron/Zofran once per day in the morning, Gabapentin 100mg up to 3 @ 3x day, 1 Advil with 2 Tylenol twice a day, probiotics one hour after Doxy, Grapefruit Seed Extract, Fiber, Chasteberry & Cat’s Claw

Conclusions: Tick illnesses are whack and you have to pay very close attention to them.

I have been suffering from extreme pain, weakness, and fatigue especially over the last 10 days. I started antibiotics 11 days ago, so I should be feeling better but by two days ago, I realized I was getting worse and not better. I called my wonderful doctor and she talked me into taking Gabapentin (“But Maddrey I don’t want to take a whole bunch of drugs dude!”) and it helps, so much. The pain I am feeling is in my upper back, from my shoulders down to the bottom of my rib cage. It is such a strange and specific pain and very intense, like burning beneath the surface of my skin, all through my tissues. I hate it!!! I had shingles about 13 years ago and the fatigue of this reminds of shingles, but this is not shingles.

I have often said about my self that my brain/mind is strong and good, my heart center is good and loving, I am working on my emotional health and my tendency to copy parental patterns of controlling codependent behavior (what a challenge! But I think it is getting better), but my bod! My bod sure likes to get illnesses and I am hoping we can work on that as well. I am not sure why I am so sensitive to illnesses, but here we are.

Signing off to go water plants. xx P

Up Out of a Deep Well

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Waiting.

Time.

Circumstance.

Change.

The decade of the 40s has been interesting because I have experienced many moments of clear reflection. I like to think of them as plateaus of understanding; it’s as if my mind’s eye is climbing mesa after mesa, seeing clearly out to a horizon that, beforehand, I could not see.

Maine has always been a place where I am an artist, first. In Texas, I was always a teacher, first, and had been for years. I am beginning to appreciate the practicality of that choice of vocation, as i am really struggling here with earning a lot less than what I earned in Texas. But, I digress. As an artist, first, I am embarking on an adventure of making more work, finishing a writing project, and hoping to take over a friend’s longstanding artistic business. It is a time of big leaps, and I am waiting for my confidence to catch up.

The deep well, I think, is a series of experiences that have emboldened an already highly-developed struggle with self-confidence. People tell me this struggle isn’t obvious to others, but to people who know me really well, it is clear. The deep well of circumstances like: teaching under-resourced students for almost twenty years, moving a lot from place to place, being afraid of commitment and how that impacts decision-making, focusing more on achievement over joy and balance and contentment, the death of my dad, the death of one of my best friends, teaching during the pandemic, discovering two half-brothers at the age of 45, and landing again in a place that I love but is very challenging to make a good living, have all resulted in this moment of clarity. Ah ha! Here I am, after all these years.

I find it hard to internalize that we are where we are because of everything that came before. But, to me, standing on tonight’s metaphysical mesa and staring at a new horizon, this explanation is the only one that makes sense. What now must be is a decision as to what to do next. I feel in some ways that I am taking huge risks in waiting and seeing if the jewelry store dream becomes reality; most of these risks are financial and right now, financial risks seem bad. On the other hand, with our country in the throes of the changes it is experiencing, maybe this is the time to grab the dreams by the hands and jump. I don’t know? I know what I want, which is to own or co-own the jewelry store, be able to save money and pay for health insurance without total panic every month, take a month or two off in the winter and go somewhere nice and sunny, to be able to buy the land around us and run a campground for people in the summer, to pay off our house within 15 years; all of these are the dreams.

But the waiting, the realizing, the digging oneself out of a series of experiences to find meaning within them; it is hard and it is drudgery sometimes, and sometimes it is joyful, like tonight.

I am still sick with anaplasmosis and Lyme disease. I think that something about these illnesses forces me to think about a lot of things while I am sick; they are thoughtful illnesses, to be sure. This experience reminds me of when I got sick my senior year of high school and could do little else but be sick and hope I would get better sometime. I spent a lot of time sitting on the back porch, thinking about the meaning of life. I think I have some sort of understanding of the meaning of life, for now anyway, but I am thinking about a lot of other things. I think about the preciousness of life and time, how fast it all goes, what I want the next ten years to look like and be like, and what I can do to make the world a better place, a little at a time. It is an active time, this thinking time.

Last year, one year ago yesterday, the world lost an amazing person in Kate Shuster. She was a mentor and a friend and a shero and an inspiration, and she is very missed. She left behind lots of memories, photos, and writings, but her death impacted me so much and especially reminded me of the precious nature of our time on Earth. She made a mark, a series of them, in fact, and she left Earth very quickly after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. When she died last year, I went and sat on the edge of the ocean and thought about her, and Mary Ann, and Ken, and John, and Meredith; all the friends who I had lost before I wanted them to go. Sometimes I see them or hear them or feel them around the edges of this reality and I wonder what they think or want us to see or understand. I guess we will never know that, and just have to keep on doing the best we can.

A Tick-Borne Summer

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As I listen to my surroundings, I hear the song of many birds, the hum of summer traffic on the road, and the wind moving through the thousands, millions, of trees on our land here in Maine. Every year, later than I would like, the leaves come back to the trees after months of absence. One day, they are tiny speckles of lime green, and the next, there are millions, billions of lime green leaves dancing in the air. Just before that, the birdsong comes back with the birds, and the silence of a wind-whipped winter is over. I love sitting outside in the wind, in the sun, in nature, in this tiny sliver of peace and paradise: a small house, green, with a nice porch, and plants all around.

I started feeling really crummy two Tuesdays ago, but couldn’t place the feelings; was it bad hummus? Had I drunk pond water on my Monday swim when it was so hot and clear the only thing to do was to swim? Or perhaps I had done that on my Tuesday swim, when conditions were similar only cloudy? On Tuesday evening I started to feel like there was a rock in my belly, or a beach ball, or something that was taking up all the space that I usually fill with tasty things like roast chicken or tacos or muffins in the mornings. My belly also became swollen out like a little kid’s. Usually my tummy is fairly flat with its fair share of mid-forties curves and wrinkles. I have been exercising alot on my elliptical and feeling proud of being stronger and my tummy flatter. But no longer. On Tuesday evening I tried to eat dinner as normal but barely ate half of it, saying I didn’t feel super well. I thought: tomorrow will be better.

Wednesday came and went and the stomach trouble became worse: it hurt very much and was very uncomfortable, and with it came this weird back pain across the whole top half of my torso. I had a hard time standing or sitting for long periods of time. If I could lean back, I was ok. If I could lie down, that was better. I was annoyed.

On Thursday I thought I caught the chill of a cool day that followed a few hot ones, but as I drove home from the gallery I recognized the familiar feelings of a fever. By the time I made it home, I was shaking, cold, and feeling rotten. So began my days of spiking 101 degree fevers (high for me as my normal temperature is about 97 degrees), breaking fevers into crazy sweaty messes, and the realization that something was wrong with me.

On Friday I managed to get in with a random doctor who told me that she thought I had a stomach bug that was roaming around. I asked her if she would run a tick panel just in case, and she said yes, so we did. I took the rest of the day to chill out, thinking I might be feeling better til the fever started again.

On Monday, I went to my regular doctor and told her I was worried I had a kidney infection and she said she was worried I had Lyme disease. Luckily, the tick panel was already being processed, and on Tuesday, she called and gave me the gross and terrible news that I have anaplasmosis and Lyme disease, together.

Blech.

She also told me I have to take antibiotics for at least 30 days and they are these fun ones that cause you to sunburn so easily you can’t really be out in it. She apologized for ruining my summer (I blame the tick, personally). And since Monday I have been taking two types of antibiotics, twice a day, and probiotics 1 or 2 hours later. I felt better on Thursday, and then yesterday I felt bad again. Today is Saturday, and I am very tired. I wonder if I am now feeling tired from not eating enough, because one of the things with that stomachache from Hell is that my appetite has gone on vacation. Somewhere good, I hope.

One of the strange emotional responses to these illnesses is that I am determined to not sweat the small stuff. That feels good, like I am doing something right in a situation that I cannot control at all. Anaplasmosis is super scary and can kill you in various ways (spooky!) if not treated early, so I am proud of myself for going to the doctor. So in the vein of not sweating the small stuff, I am trying to be a nicer version of myself, more understanding, and quieter. I am trying to spend time thinking about what I think about the state of the country, but not react to it as much as maybe I have been. I am thinking about the importance of creating art in times of dread and sadness, and trying to be participatory in that process.

The energy level is the challenge. Fatigue is real with Lyme and anaplasmosis. I haven’t felt this fatigue in a long time, but I am not unfamiliar with it; legs made of lead or concrete, not strong, dragging through space. I would like to go swimming or maybe just sit in a lake. Today is hot and I hope to fill up our cowboy pool with the cold, cold well water that comes from deep within the earth. I plan to put it on the leechfield, on top of the septic field; I think it’s mostly harmless to that process going on below. Last year when I filled up a giant pot to dip in on the hottest days, the water was so cold it was shocking! (There are photos to prove it!) This year, I will fill up the stock tank and let it sit for a day or two to warm up before I dunk myself in. Over by the leechfield I have planted lots of medicinal herbs and witchy plants, as MOFGA told me I could plant shallow-rooted perennials. Over there we have hops, madder, weld, motherwort, marshmallow, thyme, yarrow, blue vervain.

Ho hum. One of the good things about having peaceful, slow hobbies is that when you are slow yourself, you can still do them. Today I want to work on jewelry, so I am about to head to the studio to do just that. I am working on a series of rings, and I need to order some materials for a custom project I am working on. One of my recovery plans is to wake up early and write in the mornings, as I have much more energy when I wake up than when the afternoons roll around. By then, I feel quite ploddy, like I am going through mud, mentally and physically. These illnesses don’t make me sad, exactly, just tired and a bit disappointed. I like having lots of energy, high vibrations, and excitement. I am sure those will all come back; I just have to let this ride out.

Current projects are:

1.Working on the second edit of the book and finding all the photos that go into it

2. Power rings of various interesting stones and two pendants for a show in August

3. Finishing the third quilt in a series, photographing the three, and sending them to their destinations. The third one has no home, so I wonder who will claim it?

I am drinking coffee now, still listening to those same sounds but the wind is stronger, the sun higher in the sky, the air is warm and dry. My living room is orange and bright with sunlight. We are on new journeys in this life, new career paths, so much exploration! We asked for an adventure and we got one! Who knows what the future holds, but we have managed to pay for everything so far, and I can only hope the blessings continue and continue to grow. Every night I look at the vast spiderweb of stars and ask them to keep helping us, protecting us, guiding us. The Big Dipper right now is just above the driveway and, every night, reminds me that “my cup runneth over” and ain’t that the truth.

I hope you are well, wherever you are, and if you are not, that you can figure out some ways to make it work while you are sick.

xxP

A Special God for Children

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There is a little girl who landed on our doorstep about a month ago named Krystal. Krystal is in 3rd grade by age, but cannot read or write. Krystal is deaf but does not know American Sign Language. Krystal cannot eat but is fed via a gastro-intestinal (GI) tube twice a day at school by her mother, who is having a hard time getting on Medicaid in Texas. Krystal is always happy.

Krystal’s hair is parted beautifully every day in a centered, zig-zag pattern and every day she wears a clean bib with some paper towels folded in the pocket to catch her drool as she smiles at us, nods, and gurgles throughout the day.

Every time I see Krystal, I say “Hi!” with bright eyes and a full smile, and she nods to me and says hi in her own way and gives me a hug. The children love her and have brought her into the school in the most amazing ways; gently tossing a ball to her in PE, looking after her at recess, and asking sweet questions about her when she cannot hear them (they don’t understand deafness). They ask: “Why does that little girl not speak? Can she hear us? No hearing?!?” They are mostly unaware of life’s greatest mysteries.

The other day I was walking with Krystal out to the Special Education room, which is where she spends most of her days. Her paperwork that came from California is out of date and it looks like she hasn’t been in school for about three years. Her mom was living in Orange County and said it was hard for her. Our district won’t use the old paperwork as they claim it is too out of date. This is a way they can keep her at our campus despite our lack of a Life Skills classroom. They say they have to follow policy and that until Mom gets doctor’s orders for Krystal, there is nothing they can do to help her. So we help her, every day assigning someone to walk around with her, hold her hand, and take her to meet her mother.

I was just watching “Fried Green Tomatoes” tonight. It is an early spring night and it is very cool out. When I was walking with Krystal the other day I thought about the part of the movie during which Ninny mentions Ruth’s belief in there being a special God for children. When I am with Krystal and she is smiling at me and gurgle-laughing, or when I am drawing with Jade and trying to get her to talk to me about why she is so violent, when Zoe is screaming at me over and over and over again, when Tara is able to calm down and come out of her hiding space and walk off her upset feelings, I think about that God. There are few mercies for little children who are in the dire straits of poverty during late-stage capitalism, parents who are under-employed, houses that aren’t sanitary or safe, in a school system that is only designed for children who would make it even if the system just went away.

Right now the stool holding up society isn’t steady and it’s because we are missing a huge part of its structure: the children. I wish it was as simple as praying to that God and asking her/him to step in and help us. For now, it seems that no one will help, and no one knows how, anyway. For now, we will walk around with our Krystals and try to soothe our Jades and try to figure out our Taras so we can make it through the school days. It seems so strange for a country to, over and over again, ignore and leave behind its children. Just as in the Pied Piper of Hamlin, we are trading so much for our children. What happens when the Piper comes to call in his debts?

In the Dark

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In the dark, I sit in my room; lamps glowing on the newly white walls. This week I will sell my house to someone new. I love this house; it has been a wonderful 5.5 years here and I will miss it.

In the dark, I sit in my room and reflect on this year of growth, learning, and heartache. I think about how heart broken I am on the one hand, and grateful on the other. How is it possible to have both?

The other day I had to send a child to the mental hospital. She became so upset that she cut herself and made herself bleed and she rubbed blood all over her face and hands and she looked like a doll or as if she was wearing a mask. She required sedation three times before she left campus and two more times in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Someone asked me afterward what I was thinking about when it was happening and I didn’t know the answer.

After that happened I went on a walk to the park that is down the street from the school. It was a beautiful spring day and, as I walked, I began to notice flowers and spring leaves: neon green baby spring leaves. I arrived at the park and smiled and felt the wind flow around me; it was almost saying to me, “don’t worry as you are on your way away from here, I am carrying you away”. I could see the ocean in my mind’s eye and smell the salt air. I smiled and realized how much I love that park and all of its trees and the way its gravel always gets into my shoes somehow. When Oscar was a little puppy this was where I trained him to walk on a leash. This is where I ran into Paola the custodian who retired (she walks each day).

On Friday I had a meeting with the director of Special Education and she was very angry with us and criticized us and told us we would get used to these things and disassociate with time and experience. She mentioned the importance of running through scenarios with the team so that we could know what better to do next time. I looked at her as if she was insane, remembering my morning the day before and thinking there was no way in hell I would ever run through that scenario with anyone except the people who happened to be there at that one, specific moment. She mentioned that when she was lifeguarding this is what she would do with the other guards to anticipate things happening. I sat there, in my mind saying “lifeguarding?” and asked, over and over, for help, training, ideas, solutions. I was batting zero.

I love this beautiful place. I have loved it every day for 5.5 years and now it is on its way to becoming someone else’s and I can just sit here, remembering, feeling the heartbreak and hearing the song and understanding it is two sides to the same coin of life. There is pain and gratitude: bewilderment and truth all at the same time.