The Awakening....

During one of our later sessions, Dr. Grant asked me what I was going to be doing in 5 years. The question took me by surprise, since for most of the year I'd spent all my energy just trying to make it to the next day! After a few moments thought, I told him I had been more focused on what I wanted to do after retirement. "Ok", he said, "What are your plans after retirement?" I told him my dream of wintering in North/South Carolina and spending the summer in North Idaho. He asked me how I was going to make that happen. (He obviously didn't get the part about it being a DREAM). "Well," I said, "first and foremost, we have to pay off our bills!" He asked me how much I owed, and, ashamedly hanging my head, I told him - "Almost $50,000.00". A slight grin came over his face and he said "Do you know how much debt my wife and I have right now?" (Mind you, the man has attended school for the majority of his life and his wife also owed on several student loans. They also had property in North Carolina, along with various other debts they'd acquired.) As he spoke however, I was thinking "So what? You're a doctor! You can afford to carry that debt load and have it paid off in a few years!" Then he told me how far in debt they were. I nearly passed out right there in the chair!! Unfazed, he explained how he and his wife decided to make getting out of debt a priority. They set about a plan. He listed all of his debts, then graphed the whole thing on paper. He chose to pay off the debt starting with the single lowest amount. When that debt was paid, he took the payment and placed it toward the next lowest. When that debt was paid, he took the amount of the two paid debts and threw it toward the next. This produced a snowball effect. He updated the graph from month to month, so he could see his debt shrinking. This gave him a sense of accomplishment and spurred him on. "Hmmm", I thought, "I wonder if I could make that work for me?" Dr. Grant suggested that I give it a try. And so was born my first Action Plan. My wildest pipe dream was becoming a goal - to be bi-coastal - a way for me to be near my beloved kids and grand kids and to also remain rooted in the place I knew and loved dearly - the place my ancestors homesteaded before it was even a State.

After my session that day, Josh and I went over what Dr. Grant and I had discussed. Josh said "Sure mom, that is the same technique I used to get Tia and myself out of debt! It's a great system!" He agreed to help me crunch some numbers, which was good because well, I can't figure out a microwave - you take it from there! I listed all my debts, we made a few phone calls to get exact figures, and Josh went into the other room. Within about a half-hour, he returned with a big grin and announced that he had it all figured out. He'd even graphed the whole thing for me. We sat down and he explained to me how it would work and what he discovered - I COULD BE DEBT FREE AND BI-COASTAL IN ONLY 3 AND 1/2 YEARS!!

THAT is when it finally struck me. All of pieces suddenly fell neatly into place. THIS was REALLY GOING TO WORK FOR ME! This cognitive thinking was all I'd hoped for and so much more!! The weight of a million bricks fell from my shoulders like so much dust. I WAS ECSTATIC!! I WAS FREE!! I had my life back again!! For the first time in longer than I could remember, I HAD CONTROL OF MY LIFE!! I can't even describe to you the feeling I felt! A million thoughts rushed into my head. I had it within me to realize ALL of my hopes and dreams (most of which I'd convinced myself would never come true). The list was endless! I could finish school! I could study law and even get a Juris Doctor (not that I desire to practice, but just because I love the law). Kelly and I WEREN'T going to be stuck struggling for the rest of our lives. We can have a wonderful retirement - One we can truly enjoy!! I came as close to soaring that day as any person could hope to do without the aid of wings or planes. The joy comes back to me every time I think of it!! I felt 18 again!! The world was my oyster! I best way I can describe that feeling (as odd as it sounds), is to compare it with the feelings of Frank Cross in the movie "Scrooged", after being forced to follow 3 ghosts around and finally realizing that he had a second chance to "Get it Right" - To become TRULY successful in life. Although the character Cross' and my situations differ considerably, we've both come away from our experiences with similar feelings...

(paraphrased)
"Everybody's gotta have this miracle! It can happen tonight for all of you!
If you believe in this pure thing, the miracle will happen and you'll want it again tomorrow!
You won't say "it's a fraud." It's NOT!
It can happen every day! You've just got to want that feeling!
You'll want it every day! It can happen to you!
I believe in it now!
I believe it's gonna happen to me, now. I'm ready for it!
And it's great. It's a good feeling.
It's better than I've felt in a very long time.
I'm ready..."

A Growing Cognition...

I saw Dr. Grant again on Tuesday. We continued to hone the skills he'd taught me and he recommended some additional books he thought would help. Several of these books are listed on Dr. Grant's website.

We spent some time in each session just talking, and by doing so, more and more "issues" came to the surface. As they surfaced, I began to question how simply working a thought record or completing an S.E.A.T. was going to make everything ok every time. I asked Dr. Grant about this growing suspicion and he understood. He explained that there were many "tools" I could use to "test out" the balanced, or alternative thoughts I derived from the thought record or S.E.A.T. For instance, I unknowingly conducted an experiment of sorts when I decided to "clock out" and take to my bed. "Did it work for you?", he asked. "Well, most definitely NOT!", came my reply. However, I learned from that failed experiment that going to bed for the rest of my life was NOT the solution to my problem, and as tapped out as I was mentally, I continued to search for a solution that would work. I didn't realize I was "experimenting" at the time, but in fact, I was.
"You decided to fly across the United States for help, didn't you?", he asked me. I said, "No I didn't. Josh decided that I needed to do that, and he made it possible for me to get here." "But", he said, "YOU were the one who ultimately made the decision to go, correct? YOU were the one who packed your bags, got on the plane, and flew down here. Josh had nothing to do with that. YOU were the one who ultimately decided to give it a try. You didn't know if it would work, but you decided it was worth a chance, and you took it. And did that experiment work for you?"
Did it WORK for me? Are you kidding?? In the 6 or so days I'd been there, my mood lightened considerably; I felt that I was beginning to think clearly again, and I hadn't taken (or even really cared about taking) one single drink! I was even learning to successfully work Josh and Tia's microwave. Why yes, I believed it WAS working for me!

Dr. Grant then explained that I could conduct experiments on any of the alternative or balanced thoughts I derived from the completed thought records. As my belief in the balanced or alternative thoughts increased, my improved mood became more stabilized. And if the experiments did not support my new beliefs, I could use that information to to create different beliefs that more accurately reflected my experiences. Dr. Grant explained that I would likely have to do a number of experiments before I shifted my old beliefs. The workbook told me that it was important to keep a written record of experiments in order to track results that would accumulate over time.

The whole idea of an experiment is to discover what really happens when we try something new. When experiments don't turn out as we hope, it is time to problem solve, not quit! Sometimes you can tweak your experiment by adding or changing a few steps.
Sometimes a thought record or S.E.A.T. will help you realize and identify a problem that needs to be solved. In these cases, you make an ACTION PLAN.

I practiced working several thought records on past, recurring experiences that evoked negative emotions in me. In some cases, I realized that I was actually making mountains out of mole hills, and I determined that I would conduct experiments to help change my way of thinking so when these experiences happened in the future, I wouldn't make more of them than they really are. In other cases, I realized there were problems that need to be solved, and I knew I could develop Action Plans to solve the problems. It was interesting and a bit exciting as I realized more and more that I really could control the way I felt on a daily basis. I was really beginning to believe it would WORK!

A Bird's Eye View of Christmas...

The other night, when I let my birds out for their nightly visit with the family, Rosie decided to check out the Christmas tree. She flew right onto it, and there she stayed for the majority of the evening! Rosie's first stop on the tree landed her face to face with a glass cockatoo. They look equally surprised to see each other!

"Are you kidding me? Do you actually think that a penquin qualifies as a bird?"

"I'll show you how a bird is SUPPOSED to look on a Christmas Tree!"

"I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille!"

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!"

Take a Seat!

Monday arrived and it was time for my next session with Dr. Grant. After meeting with him 2 or 3 times, he gave me a long list of questions that he asked me to complete. After I completed this questionnaire, he used it to determine my "maladies" and gauge their extent. The results? I was suffering from severe depression and severe anxiety. Wow! I was a worse mess than I thought!


I, however, felt like I was definitely making progress. I was learning how to understand my problems and was beginning to realize that my thought patterns (some of which I didn't consciously realize) were contributing to my actions along with my overall mood and feeling of well being. I was also learning about core beliefs and the huge part they play. But I knew I still had work to do because on this particular day, I just wasn't feeling "right". I was also still hacking and coughing 24/7. When Dr. Grant asked me how I was feeling that day, I told him "OK I guess". He asked me just exactly what it was that wasn't OK. After a few moments of thought, all I could come up with was that I was having a BAD hair day. His response? "That's OK...I have hair too". While I had to chuckle at that remark, it failed to erase my sullen mood. I still wasn't feeling really GOOD. It was then that he invited me to "take a seat".
S.E.A.T. is a method that was developed by Dr. Grant. It is very similar to what is referred to as a "Thought Record", something that he'd presented to me the week before. However, S.E.A.T. is simpler to master. While the Thought Record consists of 7 steps, the S.E.A.T. method consists of just 4. Once you learn to understand a little about thoughts, feelings and moods, you have some tools with which to complete a S.E.A.T. And once you master the S.E.A.T., you gain the ability to change the way you think, thus changing the way you feel! It's an amazing concept, but I questioned whether it was something a person could master in a short period of time....

Side Roads...

Wiser and More Distracted
27 May 2008, by marciamarciamarcia

Older Brain Really May Be a Wiser Brain
By SARA REISTAD-LONGPublished: May 20, 2008

New research suggests that memory lapses that occur with age might be a sign of a widening focus of attention. When older people can no longer remember names at a cocktail party, they tend to think that their brainpower is declining. But a growing number of studies suggest that this assumption is often wrong. Instead, the research finds, the aging brain is simply taking in more data and trying to sift through a clutter of information, often to its long-term benefit.....

There are at least 10 other things I should be doing right now besides blogging. It is Saturday for heavens sake, the day I should be cleaning house, doing laundry, or any number of other things any responsible woman would do on Saturday. Oh, don't get the wrong idea! Most of the time, I actually enjoy responsibility and I commit to the responsibilities I'm given. Sometimes, however (like now), my brain seems to become uncontrollably distracted, and when this happens, I have no choice but to roll with it. It's not something that happens regularly. Sometimes I actually welcome it because it can be rather cleansing. All the garbage that has managed to enter my brain is somehow released, leaving me able to think much more clearly. It's not unlike freeing up space on the hard drive of your computer. Sometimes I wish I could make it happen on command and other times, I wish it never happened because I can't get any one thing done! The only way I can explain it is to allow you to climb inside my head and take a look for yourself...

(Typical thought process in distracted mode)

Hmmm, I really have a lot to get done today. Get the house cleaned so you don't have to worry about it on what should be a day of rest. Finish making the Christmas gifts and oh, go get some wrapping paper and ribbon so you can wrap the gifts you have finished....Is Walmart open all night? Wonder what's on TV? Cool! "I Love Lucy"...I LOVE Lucy! I could watch it all day...Oh, what's this? A Christmas movie! I LOVE old Christmas movies. And BONUS! Jimmy Stewart is in it. I just love Jimmy Stewart...

Well, are you just going to lie here all day? What about your blog? You actually have 2 followers now! You really need to keep updating regularly so they will continue to follow...Geez, I'll be glad when I get through telling about my sojourn through the hell of depression...I need something to listen to...I'll turn TV onto the satellite station with non-stop Christmas carols....Wow, this coffee table really needs dusting and who keeps moving stuff around on here? I put these things in a certain place for a reason, you know!

Hi birds! Hi my birdas, how are you doing today? Need some water, Rosie? Ok, mom will get you some water. Hi, L.V.! You need some water too? No? Well! You don't need to hiss at me! I promise I'll let you out later, buddy...Don't get so mad at me! Ok Rose, here's your water - Your food looks good....Well, not "good" exactly, it's just seeds after all...Must look good to you though, huh? Ok, guess I'll go blog. Check out your favorite blog sites first to see how they're doing...Oh look, CW's doing a Christmas alphabet (wonder how she'll deal with 'i'?) And look at CR's site. That picture she's got at the top is so cute and it's just how I remember her! In my mind, she'll always be 4 years old! Funny, since she's actually become quite accomplished, with her wonderful husband and 3 lovely daughters, her work and all that. I'll link over to RP -GEEZ, he hasn't posted since Nov 23rd! What the heck? Yea, you're the one to talk, mtnmuddah! Get posting...

Wait, I need to get a soda. Man, every dish in the house is dirty, what's up with that? Wonder what's going on at Huck's website....Oh look! Carly has some new photos of herself and Carson on her MySpace page...Geez, that guy in front of her has curly hair...wonder if she knows him...BLOG, DAMMIT! Oh, I can't think. Do something concrete...Start the clothes....Colored first...Hey look, Cody threw all his dirties out here this time. That kid is really shaping up for his Aunt! Colors first...Hmm, not too much laundry this week. Better look under the bed....BLOG!!! Ok, new post. See if you can get your comments to work...Nope. Boy, I really like that ostrich at the top of my page...or is it an emu? I want it to be an ostrich...Tia thinks it's an emu....Maybe it is...What's the difference between an ostrich and an emu? Must be like a wallaby and a kangaroo, or a whippet and a greyhound....

And on it goes....The day is gone and nothing is done yet! Do you ever get into one of these modes? Please tell me you do! I really haven't made any progress on this blog, either! I still have to write about my second week with Dr. Grant and let everyone who cares and doesn't know yet how things turned out. But first, I need to get those clothes in the dryer, and OMG! you're watching Christmas Vacation!! Can you start it over so I can watch it too.....?

Down Time

The weekend arrived and it was time to relax. Some of the best therapy I received was during these down times, when I could just relax and visit with my son and daughter (technically, she's my daughter-in- law, but she's REALLY my daughter). You can't be around these two and not laugh. I so enjoy being around them! Here are a few pictures of that first weekend..

Here's Miss Tia gearing up for the football games!

I'm not a football fan, but watching those two watch football is a hoot! And they yell and cheer for their respective teams like they were sitting in the stands!

Here's a picture of their boat...(wanna buy it? It's for sale!)

I was absolutely fascinated by these little chameleons. These little guys are very common. I took so many pictures of them, it seemed like they actually came out to pose after a few days! (I loved them, but rest assured, I would have had a coronary if one of them actually fell on me!!)

My Joshie, kickin' back

On this night before Thanksgiving and the kick-off of the holiday season, I find myself thinking about my kids even more than usual. I am so very thankful for all of them, and while I miss them terribly, I take comfort in the fact that they are ALL wildly successful in their lives and for the most part, happy. They have made me so proud. What mother could possibly ask for more than that?

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy....

...is a psychotherapeutic approach that aims to influence problematic and dysfunctional emotions, behaviors and cognitions through a goal-oriented, systematic procedure...CBT treatments have received empirical support for efficient treatment of a variety of clinical and non-clinical problems, including mood disorders, anxiety disorders, personality disorders, eating disorders, substance abuse disorders, and psychotic disorders. It is often brief and time-limited. (Taken from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

My 2nd visit with Dr. Grant was a brief review of our previous session, then we quickly moved on. In these 1st visits, I learned an amazing number of things: That there are 5 components to any problem: environment, physical, moods, behaviors, and thoughts. Each of these components affects and interacts with the others, so small changes in one area can lead to changes in the other areas. If I could learn to identify these 5 components in my own problems, I could better understand them, making it easier to see what areas I could target for change. It's really not as complicated as the books make it sound!

I learned the difference between feelings and moods, which was enlightening because I always looked at the two as being more or less the same. In fact, feelings are shorter and more fleeting - moods can go on for long periods of time. It's important to realize that your thoughts influence your moods. I learned ways to look at my problems from all sides - the positive, negative, and the neutral. Doing this enables me to look at my problems more objectively and helps me to open my mind to discover several (yes, SEVERAL!) solutions to my previously "unsolvable" problems. I can then choose the best solution to resolve that problem. When I learned a little about the theory behind cognitive therapy, it sounded so simple that in my head, I kept thinking "DUH!" However, when I committed to learn about the theory and methods behind this therapy, I realized that I would have to open my mind far enough to block the preconceived notions and openly learn to understand and apply the methods Dr. Grant was attempting to teach. THAT is not as easy to do when you are in as dark a place as I was during those first few visits!

Post "War"

Despite the Great Honeybun Wars of 2008, the time came for my first appointment with Dr. Grant. I'd been greatly anticipating my first visit with him, although I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I knew Josh had been researching different religions and ways of life in his quest to "live the dream", so I wasn't sure whether I'd be meeting a buttoned-down man in a 3-piece suit or a guy in a Nehru jacket! Would his office consist of Corinthian leather and rich mahogany or tinkling windchimes and the smell of incense wafting through the air?

We pulled into the parking lot and I saw a modest, one-story building. We got out of the car and walked up to the door. I felt rather like a child who was being escorted to her first day of school by her father. Josh tugged at the door, only to find it locked tight. I looked over at him, wondering if locked doors were standard in these places. After a moment of standing there staring at each other and wondering why we had been greeted by a locked door, the doctor appeared. He opened the door and welcomed us in. Josh and the doctor exchanged a few pleastantries, then Josh turned to me, promising that he WOULD be back, and departed. Dr. Grant smiled, asked me how I was and invited me back into his office.

I was pleasantly relieved and for some reason surprised when I saw Dr. Grant. He was not at all what I expected! Just a typical guy in a polo shirt and slacks. No stuffed shirt and no New-Age "tinklings" or "wafting" going on at all! I fully expected to be shown to a couch, but was instead invited to sit in a wonderfully comfy chair that I seemed to just sink into, not unlike I imagine sitting on a cloud would be. He introduced himself to me and I to him. He seemed intrigued by the fact that I had traveled across the United States to see him. I also learned that he was a former Catholic priest, which was fine with me, because I was a former Catholic!

We began right away by discussing the topics covered in the book he had asked me to get prior to our first meeting. No "you are sick and making yourself sicker", no "tell me about yourself and what you're feeling". It was refreshing! This man had a mission and I soon realized that he had no intention of dwelling upon my "problems". He was there to teach me, if I wanted to learn, how to heal myself! It was time to get with the program, there was no time to lose! I actually had a double session with him that day. It was interesting and a bit overwhelming to me, but I really felt that finally, I just may have hit PAY DIRT!

Rescue, 911!

As I mentioned earlier, I was hopefully anticipating meeting this doctor that Josh had told me about. I woke up after my first night in Myrtle Beach. My appointment was at 1pm. A glance at the clock told me it was about 10am Eastern time, but the clock in my head insisted that it was really 7am PACIFIC time. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I am NOT a morning person!! In fact, I'm never tracking on all cylinders until about 4 in the afternoon, and that's when I actually have some tracking ability! Despite this, I was excited (as excited as I could be considering my state) about what lay before me, and I fervently hoped that this guy could/would help me get back on track. I crawled out of bed and wandered down the hallway into the kitchen.

Now Tia, or 'T' as I call her, has what I consider to be a beautifully clean and tidy house. She works full time, but comes home each evening after work and dutifully tidies things up. She sweeps the floors, cleans up any stray dishes and generally makes sure things are in their rightful place. Her house SMELLS wonderful. Keep this in mind as I relay the following:

(Cut back to me, stumbling down the hallway.)

I wander into the kitchen and decide I need to eat something. After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and I'm beginning to think that possibly, this might be my first day on the road back to mental health and wellness. I need to make a good first impression. I choose the most nutritious, delicious breakfast I can find - HONEY BUNS. Of course, any person who's ever eaten a honey bun knows that the only proper way to consume one is to heat it up first. I find a saucer, trip over to the microwave and toss my first meal of the day inside. Now I have been using microwaves since about 1984 and I feel pretty adept at it. I close the door, hit 2-30 on the keypad and "start" it up. I look up and realize I've just ordered this time-saving device to cook my honey bun for 2 hours and 30 minutes!! I find the 'stop' button, open the door (I guess to see if my "meal" was still in there (?)), then close the door, stare at the keypad for a few seconds, hit the keypad and then 'start'. Once again, I'm nuking my bun for 2 hrs and 30 minutes!! "Oh well", I say to myself, "I'll just watch the darn thing and pull it out in 25 seconds". (No rebel microwave was going to get the best of me!) I thought it was a great plan, however I "forgot" that my brain had the attention span of a 5 month old child. I almost immediately walked away from the microwave to glimpse out the window. After gazing out for, oh, probably 5 seconds, it occurred to me that I had left the charger on my cell phone all night and OMG, I'd better go unplug it before the charger becomes the monster I had heard it could be and suck all the chargie-ness back out of the phone!! Down the hall I go. I locate the phone right away (which in itself was a feat). I grabbed the phone and jerked the charger out of the wall, saving the cell from impending death. Of course, I had to check it to make sure my phone was in working order, so I hit the power button and stood there staring at it until it connected with its mother ship (or whatever it is that cell phones connect to that makes them spring to life). Feeling satisfied and just a shade heroic, back down the hall I went, ready to receive my just reward, the breakfast of champions, my honeyb---!!! OH HELL, MY HONEYBUN!! I hightailed it out into the kitchen (meaning I walked as fast as I possibly could to avoid a prat fall). I looked up at the microwave and what I saw was not pretty. I threw open the door and a HUGE ball of smoke, shaped not unlike a mushroom cloud, came rushing out the door at me! Waving arms and hands as furiously as I could, I tried to dispel the smoke enough to check the status of my honeybun. Now, you know how great cinnamon rolls or honeybuns smell when they're heated? Well, this was SO NOT THAT SMELL!! And the honeybun itself? A smoking, steaming pile of goo. I stood there in awe, looking at it for a few seconds, then grabbed the plate to remove it. Oh, the stench! Oh, the smoke! JOSH AND TIA ARE GOING TO KILL ME!! I inhaled, my olfactory lobes desparately searching for the clean, beautiful essence of the home I'd entered only one night before. My mind goes into self defense mode, and for a fraction of a second I think 'well, maybe they'll think the dogs did it'.

"Think, THINK!" I pleaded to my brain. "You've GOT to cover this faux pas before one of the kids find out what you did!" Out I went to the garage and trash bin to destroy the evidence, smoke and stench trailing behind me as thick as a vapor trail. I get to the garbage, honeybun still dripping with smoke, and attempt to dump it in the trash. But the damn thing wouldn't dump!! It clung to that saucer for dear life, not wanting to be banished, uneaten, to a landfill! (By this time, I'm pretty sure the thing was not even a food product anymore. It was as hard as a carp and a whole lot darker than it was when I put it in the nuclear oven). What to do....What to do? I grabbed a knife and tried to get under the thing, but somehow the chemicals in the bun and the saucer had melded to form the strongest super glue known to man!! I chiseled that bun off the plate in record time though (along with just a little of the plate's pattern - SERIOUSLY, it was barely noticeable!), and raced back into the house to find some air freshener. I looked high and low and couldn't find anything resembling any kind of freshener! I did what I knew I had to do and called Josh at work. Certainly HE had to have incinerated something in that devilish microwave! Of course! He would probably just chuckle sympathetically and let me know where I could find some air freshener to mask the ODOR FROM HELL. I grabbed the phone and began dialing...............

After just a few rings, the phone is answered and I hear a cheery "Quantum Talent, this is Peg". In the most casual tone I could muster, I said "Hi Peg, this is Dawn, Josh's mom. Can I talk to him for a minute please?" After a few moments of dead air, Peg stammers "Um, well Dawn, I thought he was with YOU!" Upon hearing these words, I realize that Josh must have stayed home with me and was somewhere in the nether-regions of the house. It then occurred to me that Peg had become a tad bit, well let's say, concerned? Before I could say "Oh, sorry Peg....", she was verbally trying to reason that possibly he'd just gotten a late start and would surely be arriving momentarily. "Well if he's not there, I'm sure he'll be here shortly and I'll have him call you right away, Dawn". "Thanks, Peg" I manage to stammer in a raspy voice and hung up the phone. As I turned around I found Josh casually walking down the hallway, hair still dripping wet from the shower. As he turned the corner, a look of alarm came over his face and he, not so casually, flew through the dining room and into the kitchen. "Je_ _ _ Ch_ _ _ _, mom, what in THE HELL did you do?!!" "I tried to cook a honey bun", I said, in the most pitiful, sorrowful-sounding voice I could muster. Josh surveyed the damage, grabbed a fresh honey bun, tossed it in the microwave, and pushed ONE button. He looked back at me and said "Haven't you ever used a microwave before?" "Come here and I'll show you how it works". I shuffled over, tail between my legs, for the tutorial. "Oh, ok!" I said, trying to sound convincing (I still didn't have a clue). He looked at me for a few seconds, his frown began to fade and, shaking his head, let out a little chuckle. In an embarrassed and dejected tone, I squeaked, "Do you know where the air freshener is?"

After a few moments, Josh walked back into the kitchen and plucked a perfectly cooked honeybun out of the microwave. He walked me to the dining room table and sat my breakfast in front of me. He then disappeared around the corner in search of the air freshener. As I ate my honeybun in silence and rejection (even the dogs were keeping a safe distance), I remembered that I had made an odd 911 call to Peg and that it was quite likely that by now, she had deployed the National Guard on a search and rescue mission to find Josh. "Oh my GOD", I thought to myself, "How do I explain THIS?" Smoke still slowly evaporated into the air, filling the house with that horrible stench. Moments later, Josh re-appeared and announced that they didn't have any air freshener. He quietly moved to couch in the living room and sat down. I realized that my only hope was to open some windows and pray that the smell would filter out by the time Tia got home. Ten minutes later, I bravely stood up and walked toward the living room, carefully maintaining a safe distance from the couch. "Josh", I called out, "I think I'll go take a shower and get ready to go to the doctor". Josh made a half-turn toward me and muttered "ok". As I rounded the corner for the bathroom, I said "Oh by the way Josh, you might want to call Peg so she'll know you're all right". Before he could process what I had just said, I was in the bathroom behind a securely locked door.

UNSUNG HEROES

This is a reasonable facsimile of what my sweet kids looked like when I arrived....

I was scheduled to meet with my new doctor the day after I arrived in Myrtle Beach, and since I arrived about 9pm the night before, it sort of felt like I stepped off the plane and into the doctor'soffice. It was OK with me though, because I was anxious to hear what this guy had to say and what approach he would take. But not before I got to see my sweet 4-legged grandpuppies and their wonderful parents!

The handsome dude on the left is Robert, better known as Bob. Actually, he has quite a variety
of names, some of which include Bobby, Bobbo, and Bobbolicious (his father has some particularly special names for him sometimes. For instance, the time he ripped the water pipe right out of the ground.) He's 104 lbs of slobber, love and fun!

The princess on the right is Susan. She has other names too, but she wouldn't allow me to list them here. Unlike her "brother", Susan has a definite countenance about her and she does not suffer fools lightly. She is THE queen diva in every sense of the word and if she knew I posted this picture of her, she'd probably find some way to kill me. You can't even see her tiara in that position! ANYWAY............

This is what they looked like when I left.....

Lost in Space

I can't tell you what happened after my trip to the "Bates Motel". I can't tell you because I honestly can't remember! I know I felt totally hopeless. I felt like every possible door back to normalcy had been slammed shut on me. I'm sure I went back to bed. I just don't remember. It's like someone changed the channel during a recording. My brain is just missing that particular part of the adventure. All I DO remember is that Josh (my son) wanted me to go see him in Myrtle Beach. I didn't want to go. Didn't he know that I was sick? I didn't even know if I could make it! Face it, I fell down quite often between my bedroom and the bathroom and those two rooms are connected!! I didn't particularly want my kids to see me this way, but then I really didn't care about anything anymore. I didn't have the money or the time for a "vacation". I needed to stay home and focus on getting better. Josh was not thinking of this trip as a vacation. He told me he thought his doctor might be able to help me. He bought me a round trip ticket and arranged the entire trip. How could I not go?

I boarded the plane for Josh and Tia's on September 16th, feeling nothing. Priority 1 was to obtain a glass of White Zin. I may as well celebrate while I can, right? WRONG. Upon inquiring, I am told that yes, they do have White Zin, and it's a bargain at $7.00 PER GLASS. Even I, in my fogged and addictedly-labeled mind, was not willing to spend $7.00 for what couldn't be more than 3 oz. of wine!

It's a long trip, going from Idaho to South Carolina. In healthier times, I was not one to sit still for more than about 20 minutes at a time, so normally, the thought of a long plane trip did not appeal to me. However, in the state I was in, I figured if nothing else, I could get some good sleep time. That was not to be, thanks to my fellow passengers. I must have realized that I may not remember what went on and curiously, I seemed interested enough to write down the events on each leg of the trip. This is what I wrote (Please don't allow the following to offend you. Remember my state of mind -clearly absent!)

I'm on a mission this year. It's all business and I'm going to work on getting my old self back in shape again. I just want to note a few incidents, as I find them a bit amusing, "warped as I am".

1st Leg, Spokane to Phoenix:
Sat by a very interesting couple. He is very much a larger (and older) cowboy.
Wife (?) was of the Asian persuasion. Once we were in the air, "she" commenced to climb all over him with the highest pitched, whiniest little voice!! OK, you've made it abundantly clear that you want something from that man! We hear you!!

2nd Leg, Phoenix to Charlotte: Yea baby, I'm almost there! Mind you, I coughed almost all the way, but no meltdowns. As I stood up to depart the plane, a kindly older gent from a few rows behind me pats me on the shoulder and shouts "You sound just like I did!" After I relayed a brief synopsis of my saga, he said, in a slight Bronx accent, "You just make 'em keep lookin', girly, and they'll find it. Took 'em 6 years to find mine". "What was it?" I eagerly asked. "Cansuh - 'Bout the size of an egg". Thanks, mister. YOU have a fine day.

I didn't write anything about my final leg of the trip - the one from Charlotte to Myrtle, but I do remember looking down on the City of Charlotte after takeoff and getting a distinct feeling of melancholy. My oldest son, my daughter, and their families live not far from Charlotte and I wasn't going to see them at all. I became extremely sad, and tears welled up in my eyes. Why can some of the people you love the most be so close and yet, you're not quite able to touch them? (Those of you who know me understand that I consider crying extremely sappy, and I just HATE to cry. But cry I did, right there on that airplane, right in front of all those happy travelers).

I arrived in Myrtle and climbed off the plane. I wondered what was going to happen next. I felt lost, helpless and alone. I was afraid. I walked along slowly (because I couldn't do it any other way). I finally looked up, and at the end of the concourse stood my sweet baby Josh and his wonderful wife Tia. I felt redeemed!! I wasn't alone!! People I love were right there to help me! For the first time in a long while, a little spark of light came shining in and kindled something in me that I had not felt for some time. There was HOPE!!

A Warm Welcome....

It's been 10 days since my last entry. This is a post I have no interest in recalling or relaying....My first (and only) visit with the shrink. I call him this not to belittle or degrade the profession. It's just that, as I sat there with the doctor, I felt myself shrinking. If I could have shrunk completely out of sight, so much the better. I learned instantly that there was one word to describe the man - BLUNT. Maybe I needed to hear what he said. He laid things on the line to me (although all he knew about me was what my G.P. had told him). I was told in no uncertain terms that I was sick, I was making myself sicker, and there was no way I could get better without becoming an "inpatient" in his 14 day program. In my state, I became easily convinced that he must be right. All the same, something inside my shrunken head kept telling me he was full of SHIT and yes, he does bear a strange resemblance to Dr. Phil. I DON'T LIKE DR. PHIL, (and I liked this guy even less).

As I looked around the "facility", I soon realized that this place was no celebrity rehab!! No palm trees or gourmet food here! In fact, I quickly determined that this place more resembled the Bates Hotel. Quickly tiring of the dressing down I was receiving from Dr. Bates, I allowed my mind to wander and I envisioned Anthony Hopkins in an old woman's wig, sitting in a rocker in front of a window at the Bates Hotel. I saw Janet Leigh in the shower with some sort of red substance running down the drain. I was rousted from my daydream when Dr. Shrink announced that he was going to check to make sure my insurance would cover my stay in this lovely establishment. I returned to the waiting room.

It wasn't long before the doctor re-appeared to announce that the insurance would only pay for an 8 day stay. The program was 14 days long and no, I couldn't just stay 8 days. However, he decided that it would be no problem for me to pay for the other 6 days myself. I knew then that he definitely WAS full of shit (and crazier than I was). I promptly left the building, the shrink, his "nurse" and Alfred Hitchcock to themselves.

The Adventure Continues....

It was one week later and time to return to the doctor. I crawled back out of bed. After a cursory brushing of hair and teeth, along with a haphazard "spit bath" (see how depressed I was?), I headed out. This time, my doctor told me they had scheduled a session with a psychiatrist and I was to meet with him 2 days later. I asked the doctor if there was anything she could give me for my cough. I honestly don’t remember her exact response, but I think it was something like “ Well, let’s do something about your drinking first. I think you will then see a marked improvement in your cough”. It seemed there was no serious concern about my cough or any desire to consider my theories that the damn cough was what LED to the drinking and depression. I made my way back home and crawled back into bed.

Two days later. I’m looking for the psychiatrist’s office. The directions I had received were “It’s the building right behind the hospital”. I drove directly behind the hospital, parked my car and walked up to the door. I believe the sign on the door said “Panhandle Health”. “Interesting”, I thought. “Why would a psychiatrist have an office in the building that housed health inspectors? Perhaps the good doctor was moonlighting.” My fogged mind somehow came to the conclusion that this was most likely NOT the correct building, so off I went, on foot, to find the man my doctor seemed certain would change my life. As I walked, my mind began to “speak” to me. “Oh wonderful”, it said. “Not only are you lost in this maze of practitioners, you are now going to be LATE for your first appointment with this guy. Way to make a positive first impression, girlfriend!”

After a few more minutes of aimless meandering, jumping across a few berms and climbing a small fence, I found the building I was looking for and discovered that his office was housed in what I believe was the local "rehab facility". I gave a fairly agressive tug on the door handle and immediately felt my body being hurled forward against the door with my head following milliseconds later. When my brain quit slamming itself against my skull, I realized that by golly, the door was locked! Only fairly dazed, I noticed that next to the door was a sign indicating that if I wanted to go to “area A”, ring the doorbell. If I was headed to “area B”, I was to stand there until someone saw me and came to the damn door! I considered my options and patience level (on a scale of 1 to 10, I am about a –5). I selected option #1. I did this because I knew that if I chose option #2 and stood there for more than 30 seconds, I would begin to dance, make faces or start swearing like a sailor to get someone to notice me and let me in. I further discerned somehow that option #2 would most certainly land me in an area consisting of rubber walls and a straight jacket. I rang the bell.

Momentarily. a stern-faced woman appeared at the door. “Are you here to check in?”, she asked. As I was forming my response, which was “oh HELL no”, she said “Oh, you’re here to see Dr. Phil. YOU rang the wrong bell”. I was beginning to wonder why on earth they ever let me out on the streets at all – EVER. (It also occurred to me that I was quickly earning eligibility to ride for free on a short bus, which would have taken me right to the front door of the building I had just run the gauntlet to find. (Note to self...check this out. You might be able to save a little money at the pump!)

The Adventure Begins....

My, time flies when you're having fun! Let me give you an update since I last posted to this blogsite (you might want to get a vessel of your favorite beverage & some snacks before you begin reading).

I went to DS for a second time. Upon greeting me, she mentioned that she had thought a lot about me since our last meeting, which immediately set me to wondering about HER. After chatting for awhile, she decided the best thing for me was to make an appointment with my physician, tell her everything I told my counselor and go from there. Since it was pretty much lights out in my head at the time, I agreed, went home and made an appointment. A few days later, I crawled into the doctor's office and after they called me into one of the "rooms", I slithered and collapsed onto the "table" to wait.

After what seemed to be a few months later, my doctor (not actually a doctor, but a P.A.), came bouncing into the room, all cheery and almost very pregnant. She asked me how I was doing and I proceeded to tell her the sordid details. I explained that my chronic cough had developed into the pulmonary equivalent of the elephant man, sending people screaming into the streets each time I had an "episode". For this and other reasons, I felt I was becoming more than a bit depressed (This idea occurred to me when I realized I'd been in bed so long the seasons had changed). Finally, I confessed that I had developed the ability to chug 5.5 liters of Peter Vella wine every one and one-half days. When I looked up at her it occurred to me that she may have been in a mild state of shock, since her mouth was open as wide as humanly possible. She managed to stammer something that sounded like "o...k", "I need to go talk to the doctor" and immediately fled down the hall.

Another couple days passed and she reluctantly re-entered my room. She announced that she thought I may benefit from a 14 day stay in the "hospital" and that she needed to get some blood work on me. She left the room again, this time informing me that the nurse would soon be in to draw my blood. Things began to move swiftly now and after only a few hours, the nurse waltzed in, laden with her little tote full of needles and vials to take my blood. She was a friendly older lady who attempted to strike up a conversation with me until she saw my face. Leaving the room immediately then became priority one for the poor thing.

As I was finishing the epic War and Peace, the doctor returned for a third time. She reported to me that the blood tests revealed my liver count was way up, my kidneys weren't doing well, and I was suffering from anemia. Did I want to go to the hospital right then, she asked with a fervent hope in her voice. I replied that I really did NOT want to go to the hospital. I had a few things to tie up (not the least of which was calling Wall St to inform them that profits in the Vella Wine Corporation were about to take a serious downward spiral). I pled with my doctor to give me one week to try and end my affair with Peter Vella on my own. She reluctantly agreed to let me do this, put not before she wrote out a prescription for something to reduce the number of pink elephants I would surely see while carrying out my little "experiment". I made an appointment to return to her office in one week and unceremoniously crawled home.

The First Step?

August 12th was my first visit with a "counselor". DS was remarkable. After the first session, I walked through the door of my house to my husband, whose first words were "I thought you were going to counseling!? YOU WENT SWIMMING INSTEAD, DIDN'T YOU?" A reasonable remark, considering my hair was dripping wet. However, my clothes were dry, so WHA????

Have you ever gone to a counselor? Do you KNOW what that's like? If not, I'd wager that you would sweat your ass off, too! (For the record, I'm not sure of the condition of my ass at the time (other than big), but I know my hair was dripping). I believe this was the first time in my life that I was ever TOTALLY HONEST with anyone. I didn't hold one thing back. I let her know it ALL. Even my affair with Mr. Vella, which was possibly the most difficult. I work for the government for Lord's sake. My retirement may rest on whether or not she brands me with the SCARLET LETTER. And I'm not referring to Nathaniel Hawthorne's "A" (as if!! For some government employees, that letter is worn with pride!) Perhaps 20 years from now, the letter will not mean a thing, but for now, it's still an issue, believe me!!)

Still, my loyal husband was there for me with a wringing-wet cloth (I guess my head wasn't wet enough) and words of encouragement. For now though, that big letter "A" still hovers over my head (along with a lot of dripping tap water). As soon as I dry out, I'll write more...

A Date Which Will Live in Infamy

August 8, 2008, "is a date upon which I will not look back with a great deal of pleasure...".
These were some of the words (kind of), of Queen Elizabeth II after a good portion of her palace burned, as did the passions of the still-married Prince Charles for Camille. August 8th was the day that I decided to "step off the merry-go-round"..."lose a few cards in my deck"..."close the door on my life", hang a big "DO NOT DISTURB" sign on my door and stick my proverbial head in the sand. I called my boss and told him that I was not coming in to work and may not be back for some time. I called my closest colleague and friend and asked her for some assistance on applying for a leave of absence. Then I cancelled all of my appointments and speaking engagements for August and September and believe I spent the remainder of the day with my good friend, Peter Vella (if you're wondering, my lovely summer glow comes from a box of White Zin).

You see, this day had been a long time coming. Why it came on that particular day, I don't know. I do remember that the first real dog of my own, "Teke", was born on that date, and my Great Uncle Lot died on that date. I also had no idea of how next to proceed, how I felt or why I felt like I did. I've been at my government job for 20 years, settling labor disputes between everyone in the workforce from building contractors to dancing lobsters (No embellishment, dude!). All of my kids are raised, gone and have moved to the other end of the country. My mother died, my old dog died, most of my plants are dead and my husband better watch his step (just kidding - REALLY!) I'm fat, yet everything on me has developed a sudden obsession in taking up residence as close to my feet as possible. And menopause has become the cherry on top of whatever's left on top. Life is not good, and I can tell you I don't look good in ANYTHING with cherries on top.

I decided to do what any person with an ounce of remaining sense (considering I'd lost the majority of it) would do and called a counselor. I mean, I've not become a threat to society, don't wish to join a cult or apply for a job at the post office (not that there's anything wrong with that), but I decided somewhere in my fogged mind that I needed a little guidance. The first session did not exactly become "the first day of the rest of my life", but I'll admit, it was a start.