Under a Red Roof

Guest Blogger G: “Home Sweet Home”

July 26, 2009 in Admiring, Being, Celebrating, Feeling, Learning, Loving, Receiving by admin | 3 comments

Patio Time

Hi all! Colleen was discharged from the hospital yeserday, July 25th. As much relief as I feel having her home I am also extremely grateful for her experience in the hospital. It is absolutely fascinating to see how fast the body heals and changes.

I can’t help but be amazed, grateful, and not just a little shocked at all the external “hook-ups” that had to be connected to Colleen during this time:

Catheter – Well, we all have to pee don’t we? (no pun intended!)
“Pain Pump” – This particular device delivered morphine directly to the abdomen. I can’t really give many more details about this one since none of the nurses knew how to use it!
Blood Monitor – A very strange light connected to the end of Colleen’s finger, this was responsible for measuring the amount of oxygen her blood was carrying around. Effectively, this monitored how she was breathing.
Oxygen tube- As a result of the blood monitor going off, additional oxygen was needed for proper breathing, particular during periods of sleep. You know, the little tube under the nose…
IV – Ahh, the “intake tube” we’ve all seen in the movies. I don’t really know how to describe seeing somebody not needing to eat real food and having everything (including medication) delivered ‘on-demand’. “Convenient”, “scary”, “miraculous”, “bizarre”… I could go on and on, but this is certainly one of the most critical components to Colleen being ok, for sure.

Needless to say, I am so happy to see her up and walking around and not needing one of the previously mentioned connections. I know she has a long way to go before she is 100%, but what she has been through has been fairly eye-opening to me in my little software writing world.

Hematocrit Levels

(Grain of salt warning: I may have the numbers wrong here, but I don’t think so…) We were slightly worried that she wouldn’t be able to come home because of her “Hematocrit Level“. 38% is about average for a woman. Fortunately, thanks to Colleen, her level was about at 42% when she went in to surgery. After surgery it was about 28%… Then 25%… Then 22%… So, this was the piece that made me nervous during recovery! Her last test went back up to 25! Yippie! The doctor told us that this can fluctuate quite a bit due to various factors – drugs, hydration, etc… so a particular number is not critical. Since this can mean internal bleeding, however, it is critical that this number stabilize. Seeing it stabilize was crucial. I suspect she will have another test before week’s out, but it looks good!

Thanks

I don’t really know what else to say besides “thank you”. Thanks to everybody who has had a kind word for Colleen, sent a flower, or just had a moment of contemplation about how really valuable the people around you are.

P.S. I probably won’t post as much as I will be quite short on time come tomorrow. I am hopeful, however, that Colleen will be back to her bloggin self in no time!

Tags: Endometriosis

Guest Blogger G: “Short and Sweet”

July 25, 2009 in Being, Celebrating, Feeling, Loving by Colleen | 3 comments

Happy Day

I just wanted to post some status on Colleen. She is doing very well after having switched to oral medication. Therefore, she is no longer connected to an IV or feeling nauseous from the constant stream of Dilaudid.

Her “stryker box” has also been removed. A baking soda sized device, this was delivering medication directly to the incision site. Apparently it is fairly ‘new fangled’, and most nurses don’t know how to use it. (We think it stopped delivering anything about a day ago!). Regardless, “her annoying purse” has been removed. She was forced to have this hanging around her neck.

The vital sign monitor is no longer on her finger either. Bottom line is that there is just one tiny tube connected to her in case she needs an IV again, but we suspect that will be gone shortly.

She’s been able to walk around a little and hopes to walk out of the hospital sometime this afternoon (with a little help, of course).

It has certainly been an interesting week and, at times, a little scary. It is good to see Colleen feel more like herself (if not still in a bit of pain). All and all she is doing very well, considering what she has been through.

(Editing by Colleen)

Tags: Endometriosis

Melancholy or Maybe Not

March 18, 2009 in Being, Feeling, Thinking by Colleen | 2 comments

Hello friends –

I hope your day is going well. It is a beautiful one here, sunny and warm enough to have the windows open, cats lying in various belly exposing prostrations. Very nice.

I wish my disposition were more like the weather, to be frank. I am a little melancholy thinking about yesterday – the one year anniversary of the completion of my novel, Polite Society. It is a bit strange to think that I finished it that long ago. The worst bit, and the one getting me down, is the fact that none of the many agents or publishers I submitted my work to has opened their doors to me, grabbed me by the shoulders in utter delight and said, “This is great! Let’s get it published!”

However, as I sit with this and wonder what it really means, what I really want, I’m not so sure. I finished a novel. I really did, one that makes me proud and giggly at the same time. That fact will never change. As for what I want, sometimes I think it is money. Other times, I think it is about having people read what I believe is a magical story.

Speaking to the money part, I have never made much, ever. Most of the time, I am okay with this. Other times, like today, I only look at myself in disappointment that I’m not contributing financially to our household. That being said, when I was working for a dollar, I wasn’t very happy, actually quite crabby, a little bitchy, and awfully whiny. Writing, however, I really like. I love the conversations in my head, the accumulation of words and ideas. Oh yes, I like it very much.

Why then, do I get so hung up on this? Being happy is much better than having a paycheck. Besides, how would having more money change my life, anyway? Greg and I already live comfortably. We spend wisely and have no debt besides our mortgage. We travel, watch movies, eat good food, give to charity. What else do I want?

For a while, I thought it was a house in the country, but have since realized that, social girl that I am, I would be a bit lonely. As for our house, maybe we would finally get our bathroom refinished. It is old and quite ugly. The carpet upstairs isn’t it the best shape, and the basement isn’t finished. So I guess I would like those things to be done, but I can’t say my quality of life would be drastically improved should this happen.

Now about people reading my work. That’s already been done by several friends and some strangers. (An aside here, my friend Maria did a great job of finding many, many typos here recently, some of which I had already corrected, many not. I am very grateful.) Anyway, everyone likes it, and I don’t believe any of them to be liars.

I guess the real problem is my silly head. The only time I feel upset is when I start comparing myself to other people or idealized versions of myself. In the grand scheme of things, I am the only one who can make me happy, ever. No amount of people reading my book, money, or success can change this, not one bit.

Oh goodness, finally, I am smiling. More money and a popular novel might make my bathroom look nice, take me on a book tour, and give me a slot on the New York Times best seller list, but it won’t give me what I already have: a wonderful marriage, a great home in a city that I love, good friends, cute and cuddly cats, the list goes on.

I think what is really on order is a bit of patience and some kindness toward myself. There is no rush here. If the doors open, I’ll be delighted. If not, I’ve already got it pretty good. Thanks for listening to me work it through.

Talus then Light in the Dark

March 15, 2009 in Feeling, Thinking by Colleen | 1 comment

In a perfect world, this post would be a short film. You would see me lying in bed, eyes dark with the fatigue of my thoughts, deep in conversation with the hubster. The soundtrack would be “Come to Me” by Bjork. Do it if you can. See me, hear my voice, put on the music.

I’ve always been a pretty introspective person. I listen, sometimes too well, to the world, my inner thoughts and feelings, analyze them, ponder how to move forward. Usually, it is a seamless process and I move like a leaf drifting joyously in the current. Other times, I feel more like I am tumbling hard down a talus slope where certain death awaits me.

At these times, I find more questions than answers, none of them easy. I look at my life, deeds, and words and make a vain attempt to piece together something valuable from a collection of days that seem so insignificant. Is this how everyone feels, but only few share it?

Then, as grace would have it, I got an answer. My friend Bridget e-mailed me, saying this afternoon felt like one for a movie, so we headed over to the Laurelhurst to see Synecdoche, NY. The story touched a place deep in me, almost like I was hearing for the very first time, so much so, that I took my notebook and pen from my purse and wrote my impressions (thank you Charlie Kaufman!). Yes, I was the kooky lady scribbling furiously in the dark, yet in the light, for all the questions of my day, and these past few days, were illuminated. Here’s what I wrote:

Maybe this is what we do? We construct what we think is. Our life is composed of sets, real and imagined. We play parts, but are any of them the real versions of ourselves?

Things happen over and over again. Is it penance or just a pattern to be repeated? We love, suffer, feel lonely, experience joy and wonder.

Can we construct our reality beforehand, make the set what we desire?

Are we dead or not yet born?

We compress memories and shift time.

Do we come to a point at which we drift, someone else’s hand at our back, gently guiding us, giving us our words? Is this happening now?

I got answers and questions, but mostly a sense of relief. Yes, Colleen, we all do this, in similar and vastly different ways. You will encounter these questions again, but that is what life is, and until someone whispers “Die” into your ear, you can make it what you like.

We Have No Apple Today…

February 4, 2009 in Feeling, Giving by Colleen | 2 comments

This is our house last April, right after having it painted the utterly perfect green color. To the left is our ginormous apple tree, a few blossoms open. Little did we know this would be the last spring for this marvelously productive tree.

We worried about the apple from the moment we moved into the house. Someone had done some very strange shaping and the enormous root system made it appear as though the tree was planted about eight feet from it’s current location, then snaked on the ground to the right spot and allowed to grow, and grow, and grow. The tree was tall and made tons and tons of apples. I spent many a day lining them up along the front wall, ready for any passerby who had a hankering. Then there was the time contemplating recipes for cider, apple butter, apple sauce, apple muffins, apple crisp, apple pie, apple cake, triple apple cake! Sometimes it made my head spin.

Then, one day about a month ago, I was out front weeding and felt a certain springiness. Had it been a spring in my step, I wouldn’t have worried. I’m that kind of gal. As I walked closer to the crazy roots, it increased, and I noticed a hole, small, but enough to signal trouble. The tree was starting to heave out of the ground. Thankfully it lasted through the awful wind storm. Having it topple then would have been a rather big bummer.

This is our yard without it, a gaping space of light and emptiness. I cried the day the men cut it down. It had provided so much for us – a riot of beautifully scented blooms, a place to watch and feed the wildlife, shade, secrecy, wonderfully crisp apples, the opportunity to share with friends and strangers. Thankfully there is always a silver lining. It opens up the view of the house and provides us with the space for me to indulge in a sometimes obsessive love for cherries, especially the tart kind that are great for pies and drying. Now I can have my very own tree! I hope there is a dwarf variety to suit our small front yard. I don’t want a repeat. Think good thoughts, won’t ya?