“Sometimes the spirit of my wilder mind is busting through the seams of me.” -Rhapsody Boheme
Month: July 2017
A shitty affair
I’m telling you right now, be forewarned that this post will not be like my regular posts. It will be a horse of a different color and you have never heard words like these come out of my mouth. Some content won’t be ladylike, it may have you laughing out loud, and yet at others it might be downright shitty. Plus it’s a long one. All pun is fully intended and I might as well go all out. And there we go, it already has started. Welcome to my first colonoscopy. Something pretty private right, but I’m going to share it anyways. It was a good thing that I decided to take the day prior off. I had received various warnings of what to expect and I could have not done it while working. One person told me that the prep was the worst, that I would gag and have trouble getting all the liquids down. A few others who knew, had a different theory altogether. Myself, I thought the IV would be the worst since nobody ever finds my veins. I knew I can handle the prep and I would be out for the actual procedure, so the needle was most likely my biggest worry. But let’s just start with the morning prior to the procedure.
By 10 AM, I ate what felt like my last supper. From there on out, I would be on a liquid diet that included Popsicles, (which I didn’t have), gelatin, (not a fan, but came to love it after starvation) chicken or beef broth, water, tea, soda (a thing I usually don’t drink) and that was pretty much it. I was hungry all day, even lightheaded and dizzy at times. By 5 PM I mixed 64 ounces of water with two packages of Gatorade. At 6 PM the entire bottle of powder solution (prep) was added to the yellow Gatorade mix. Here we go, time to drink up, and the first 32 ounces, four glasses, 8 ounces each, every 15 minutes, was waiting for me. Surprisingly the prep was of pleasant flavor and not at all how the one person had described it. Perhaps I had received the updated, new and improved version. Instant relief hit me, well not literally and no pun there, but it was in a different sense, and phew….I felt lucky leaving the first hurdle behind me.
Nothing happened for a while and it wasn’t until two hours later that I finally ran to the bathroom. Yes I said “ran”. Little did I know that this was the first of many trips to follow and a colonoscopy prep maybe just the thing you need to find out just how full of shit you really are. All pun intended. The prep worked it’s way through my system and wanted no part of me. I never had anything leave my body with such high speed velocity as on this day. Well ok, let’s just leave the gross part right there and you don’t need a visual. But, oops, pardon me, have I mentioned that I was glad to be home alone? Already vulnerable, at least I was left to make fun of myself.
I was beginning to worry about bedtime and if I should make an adult size diaper out of some sheets or some material that I could wrap around me. There was almost no prior warning and no time to waste when the urge came to visit the toilet God. Nobody had forewarned me about that, but in the end everything was OK and I slept a few short hours. 6 AM came and the rest of the 32 ounces of prep was waiting for me regardless of my system already being clear. Yellow Gatorade was exiting my body the same way it was entering. It looked unchanged having made the journey of passing through my body and was just what we wanted. Over the next hour I would drink four more 8 ounce glasses until all the prep was gone. I waited as long as I could, letting the prep do its work, before heading to the shower. It was then that it became apparent as to why the prep kit included “Tushy wipes” and I had a feeling that they would come in handy after the shower, should I have to go again. I dressed and off to the clinic it was with my escort and my driver in tow. A requirement as I would be incapacitated to drive myself. The excitement was building, what two fantastic days off, I thought.
Fast-forward, a few legalities in the office signing that the $2000 procedure would be my responsibility if my insurance doesn’t pay, (really) and it’s finally my turn. Yeah. The nurse calls my name, escorts me to the back and hands me a clear cup while soliciting Urin in order to perform a pregnancy test. What? Next I strip down to nothing while being instructed to leave the gown wide open in the back, don’t tie it we need unobstructed access. On my Gurney, the entire medical team which consists of three people makes an appearance to review my medical history and start the dreaded IV. Events and occurrences are read off to me while another feels my arm in the hopes of detecting a vein. No, wait a minute, I never had my gallbladder removed, leaving everybody stumped and shrugging their shoulders. Has somebody stolen my identity and my medical history? Who could be jealous of that! Apparently it’s no big deal and I have no idea if it was ever corrected or if I still exist without a gallbladder in some medical file in the universe. One quick prick and the IV is in, I’m relieved and if this was the worst, I would be in the clear. I’m prepped and I’m ready to go, just waiting. The nurse peaks in and I inquire if I should plan a baby shower. She turns to me, eyes wide open, asking how I knew she was planing to become pregnant. She thinks I’m one to predict the future and while my intuitions are strong, I was talking about my own pregnancy test, I just did.
I hear panting through the thin curtain divider. Another nurse stops at the bed next to me while asking the man to scoot up in his bed and comments about his blood pressure being 200/120. The Dr stops and the man is beyond nervous and frightened about the procedure. Doc, tries to put him at ease before peaking over to my side, “Awe she is ready to go” he says and it is decided that I would go first to give the man time to calm down and stabilize his condition.
Now, next to my gurney, he asks if I have a living will or directive. There is always a chance that the intestines lining could get torn, but he ensures me that he will take his time. Thanks Doc, 👍🏼 I guess, way to comfort me and even though I’m not like the poor man next to me, naked and afraid, I still ain’t thrilled to be here either. No wonder the guy to my right is freaking out.
Here we go, and before I can dwell on it too much longer, the oxygen is in my nose and wheeled into the procedure room I go. I have to state my birthday and someone notices that it was only a few days ago. I said yeah thought I’d try something different this year, belated birthday present to myself. “Well aren’t you the party animal, we’ll just invite you every year from now on” someone from the three people team says. Pleasure but no thanks I say and this year is special. Someone else responds by saying “Well you went all out, this year”. Literally and I’m all out of it alright. What a shitty business that was I say. Everyone is rolling and it’s a party in the procedure room with all pun fully intended about the shitty affair. I wonder how many times this happens that there is loud laughter coming from the operating room, as my mind flashes back to the man next to me in the waiting room.
Next thing I know it’s lights out I wake up in the recovery room. I remember the nurse reminding me to take deep breaths as I forget to breathe and the machine monitoring my vitals is making alarming sounds. Every other minute she peaks around the corner, taunting me to breathe deeply while reminding me that I wouldn’t go home until my oxygen stabilizes. I don’t really care, I just wanna sleep. Apparently the doctor who performed the procedure and which official title I don’t know, was there as well to talk to me about the results. I have given him the lovely nickname of “Booty pirate” by now as I often name people and animals I encounter. I guess he has found it’s way into my inner circle, (haha, more pun) thorough my butt and I’m grateful that nothing has torn and that I’m alive. I can’t remember for the life of me that I talked to him and God knows what I said. But hopefully “Thank you very much” dear Booty Pirate comes to mind.
Everything is well and the results are good. A small cyst that appears to be normal and no signs and symptoms of my booty being violated in any way. Life is good and the morale of this story is that no matter how shitty life can get, there is always fun to be had and a party to be lived.
Sorry, no pictures on this one 😉
A little less talk and more actions
That’s exactly what a mean customer told me the other day. Snapping his fingers at me, he motioned me to hurry up while saying “I need a little less talk and more action out of you”. I’m one of the fastest and most efficient workers, not that I would have to justify my curtious initial and brief chatter such as saying hello to the man. It was rather incredible and honestly I was taken aback and appalled by his behavior. “Wow” was all I could silently mumble in my mind. I work in the service industry, so let me just be your servant right now while I allow you to talk to me as if I was your slave, crossed my mind. I’ve been around this behavior for so long, I should be used to it and I’m surprised he managed to get to me. I was caught off guard and I was fairly disgusted I must say. Now, with a few days passed, I feel a few developments that might have sparked from this interaction and his comment. I do feel sorry for the poor little man that thinks it is acceptable behavior to treat others like this and instead of saying something smart back, I have long released the toxic energy of that encounter. I’m free and it’s just a reminder that not all are so fortunate to find their way and are stuck within their own terror. They need us for guidance.It made me ponder some things and the connection might surprise you of how this incident relates to me and my own life. As this faithful little blog has grown to nearly 900 followers, it and you, have embraced my love for writing. You have followed the adventures of my hikes, the pictures, my thoughts and the opinions of my mind along this personal journey of mine. A platform to develop my writing has become a great teacher and I hope to have made some progress. I’m beyond grateful to have met so many wonderful people near and dear to me who have allowed my voice to be heard. I could never thank you enough. I have enjoyed the feedback from you while being allowed to return the same kindness to you through my experiences and my personal growth. It’s been an honor, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
A habit formed and I usually post twice a day. I can no longer do so for a variety of reasons. And while I enjoy writing and could easily spend all day doing what I love, I do have a job that consumes a big part of my time. I feel that I have done a lot of talking, but my actions have fallen short. I’m talking about my actions in the form of keeping up with you and your own writing that is very important to me. I have awards pending, recognition that has come from you and which I have not answered due to simply not having the time to cram it all in. I have been invited for guest submissions by other fellow bloggers and for the most part this has fallen silent as well. I can only hope that it doesn’t come across as if it wasn’t interested or appreciate. To myself, it appears ungrateful and that is not what I want, nor do I want to justify or excuse my lack of thereof. I hope you know how much it means to be considered and solicited for my input. I hope you know how special it is to me to be considered worthy of such recognition. You have gone out of your way with unbelievable acts of kindness by sending things to my house to help guide me in my journey. Things that have touched my heart beyond means. Have I managed to properly thank you for your kindness? In my mind I think not. So going forward I will try to post once a day, but spend more time reading up on you. It’s important to me and allows me to stay in touch with what is going on in your world. It’s not and it never has been all about me and without you I would be nothing.
Second, I don’t want to post just for the sake of posting. I hope to keep the content somewhat of value, relevant, fun and without fillers that don’t need to be there.
Third, I need more time to balance creative outlets. I miss painting and expressing my artistic side in more than one way. I miss pushing my boundaries through my photography and broaden my toolbox of techniques, tips and tricks. I think I have the vision of what I want to capture through my viewfinder, but I need the time to bring it to life through practice.
Fourth, I’m going to Germany, gee…I need to start packing lol. I’m less than two month out, hahaha. I’m excited, but I already miss you and the blog will fall mostly silent during my 2 1/2 week stay. Maybe here and there I will be able to post a picture if I’m near WiFi at my cousins house, but it will be very limited. I can only hope that what we built together won’t be forgotten during that time.
Fifth, and none of this is listed in any particular order, I have friends I feel who need me and who I might have not always been there in the capacity I should. They might tell you different, but by my own standards, I can do much better and need to be lucky and appreciative to have friends who need me to be in their life’s. I have two friends struggling with their health, that need guidance and support and I will be more active. Bryan, you got this my friend and Irene, your hospital stay and not even knowing about it was a wake up call. Sending much love and healing vibes your ways.
And lastly, the RA (Rheumatoid Arthritis) has attacked my right hand and it’s a B….to type. Painful, but smart as I am, I figure I just dictate and try voice recognition. Mmmmh, I do have an accent and so little bear becomes little brat and enemy become enema and that sort of thing. It takes on a whole new meaning and I should just leave it sometime as I’m sure it would make for one hilarious post, instead of spending so much time to correct it. Or maybe I should just post in German sometime, hahaha, probably equally amusing and these days I think I speak better English than my own language. It will take a bit to get back into the swing of things after arriving in Frankfurt and I don’t mind making my family laugh at my proper German. I’ll gladly be the laughing stock as long as there is something to laugh at.
So here we have it and here is my silver lining to this mean comment from the other day. It opened my eyes to apply the remark to my own life and you will see more involvement from me and a little less talk. 😉. Thank you for your continued support, your understanding and always being there for me. You are a great bunch I’m blessed to have encountered and you mean the world. Xoxoxo love you all ❤🦋
Wild horses at dusk with the mighty Sierra Nevada in the background. If I could have a horse, it would be a spotted one like the one in the foreground. I think it would actually have more brown and less white but spotted horses like this one, remain one of my all time favorite horses. Can you imagine going for a ride in the country of the wild Wild West and in these surroundings?
Here comes the rain…
My last two days off have been rather uneventful when it comes to spending time in nature. Instead I had a different adventure altogether that I will talk about in a different post. It finally rained and it’s been weeks of intense heat, scorching the land. 2017 seems to be the year of extremes. Extreme snowfall, extreme flooding and extreme heat. The sky was dark and the thunder was rolling, as the floodgates opened and hail fell to the ground. I rushed to the front porch and sat in silence, smelling the cleansed air, feeling the cool droplets splashing against my skin. Childlike abandon came to mind as I thought of grabbing my rain boots. I saw myself jumping into the puddles that were quickly forming, but the hail was a little too big and I decided to just sit and watch. I stayed for a while with my feelings at peace and my soul at ease.
In the nick of time
Germany here I come. The ticket is purchased and a rental is reserved. I leave on the 17th of September at the wee hours from Sacramento to Charlotte, and then Charlotte to Frankfurt. I arrive the next day at 7AM and the journey from getting up, driving to the airport over a mountain pass etc. will elapse 22 hours with the whole day in Germany ahead of me. I, hopefully will find some sleep during my journey of getting to Germany, otherwise I will be in serious trouble. Not to mention that it takes another 3 hour drive after getting there just to get to my Mom’s house. It almost seems unreal to have gotten the ticket for only $499. The universe was definitely aligned, sending me a sign that it was time to go and I’m grateful that I didn’t miss the opportunity. In a short five days later after the purchase was made, the tickets jumped all the way back up to $1400 round-trip. It would have been out of the question to go, had I not already made the purchase. I have almost 2 months until I leave, and the other day, on my way to work I thought that I need to start packing soon. I’ve never been one to pack lightly and it becomes a stressful thing as I can’t decide what to leave behind. I pack too much and I will try hard to turn over a new leaf this time. Mainly because of the RA and simply not wanting to put that much stress on my joints. And perhaps a little doubt being able to tackle it.
The other day, I received a little surprise package from my cousin in Germany for my birthday. In the package I found two books from Adam Fletcher a person from England, who took a job in Germany and lived there for several years. The books are split into sections of half English and half German and are called how to be German and how to become German. It’s a funny take on the very unusual corky customs we have in Germany and it will be a lot of fun to re-introduce myself with some of those that I might have forgotten in all the years living here. I’m thinking of sharing some of those customs with you and if someone could appreciate a good laugh at our quirky customs, it would be my friend linda at mainepaperpusher.wordpress.com.
In the package I found a tiny little red envelope from my little niece Emily. She sent me a little starting fund for when I move back to Germany. She must have thought that I could use some money starting out in a new country and in all honesty, who wouldn’t. What a smart little sweetheart. Opening the little red envelope, I found a tiny hand written note from her and one Euro of which I’m sure she must have taken from her allowance as her personal birthday gift to me. How sweet and I hope that many years from now I can show her the little note and the Euro she sent to me of which I will never be able to spend.
Emily (on the left) with her sister Leni. 💙 I will see you soon girls.
Magical Mount Shasta
It’s was May 2016 and the beginning of everything coming to life as well as the start of summer. We were northbound to a little vacation spot in Mount Shasta, Oregon. I had been to Oregon before, once to Crater Lake and the other time to Portland, both places felt like home immediately. I was in love with the beauty of the scenery and my heart was captured lying at the base of Mount Shasta.
The little wooden cabin we would inhabit for the next few days added to the feel of having found a home away from home. Everything was in line for an amazing experience, for beautiful days filled with adventure and comfort. Leisure at it’ s finest. But there was much more in store for me and they involved things I could have not anticipated. Things that would become obvious after our return home, things that would later prompt the saying of “Something happened at Mount Shasta.”The landscape was beautiful and breathtaking, but nothing really out of the ordinary, given that I’m a high Sierra girl and used to it’s beautiful, rugged peaks. I’m sure the landscape would have been quite different for someone coming from the Midwest, but for me the main difference was, not having a volcano in my immediate backyard in the Sierra’s. Mount Shasta is a 14179 ft high stratovolcano and the second highest peak in the cascades. It dominates the sky and on a clear day, given that I climb high enough, I have seen Mount Shasta in the distance some 218 miles away from me.
It was big and majestic, and just the view of it at times appeared as if it wasn’t even real. Like a poster or something painted, it’s a sight you will not soon forget. You could see the massive peak for miles and miles, thinking you were right upon it, but instead, you kept driving and it would take you at least another hour to come within close vicinity. My heart was captured by the beauty of nature as it so often does. I exhaled peace and a sense of calm ran through my veins. Everything that I have written about and experienced before, and still there was something different, something that would become more obvious as our days went on. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was and in hindsight it feels as if I was stepping into a different era. One that showed a positive impact, and time slowed down. From the atmosphere and the feel of the town, to the surroundings, the sincere people and the friendliness that I found walking amongst them. It was refreshing to leave the competition behind for awhile and marvel in the sincerity and helpfulness that was heartfelt. Something I hoped things to be all the time. People were enjoying each other with a honest desire to make a difference for the next person. Had I stumbled upon paradise?
The experience changed me in ways I could not imagine prior. It would become something that has me yearning to revisit this beautiful area. It was afterwards that I found the meaning of all the purposes it served and perhaps there are still few waiting to be discovered. It was a feast for the eyes and a essential marvel for the soul to heal. It was bittersweet to leave and it was more than just a vacation that came to an end. I wanted everything to stay as it was and the “real world” and how I knew it, no longer belonged into the picture. It was weeks after our return that I was doing research on Mount Shasta. It was undeniable that something did had happen in Shasta and I wasn’t sure of what or if anything I would actually find, but my curiosity was peaked in the hopes to learn more. I really didn’t know what I was looking for or where to even search. I remembered the feelings I had from the mountain and I couldn’t get enough of its view. It was a starting point for my search.
What I stumbled upon was that Mount Shasta draws people from around the world. A feeling, a vibe, that people can’t explain, they feel drawn and experience a pull towards the mountain that reaches over continents away. Numerous legends exist about Mount Shasta being a space station for extraterrestrial life and the underground city housing survivors from the sunken continent of Lemuria.
Occasionally, according to legend, Lemurians, tall in statue and garbed in white robes have been seen walking around the mountain. It is also said that they have been seen coming to town for supplies. Legend further claims a city with endless tunnels and secret, hidden entrances beneath the mountain where these beings live today. People living around Mount Shasta have their own stories and experiences of what they feel and have experienced. I had no knowledge prior to any of this, but I definitely felt something out of the ordinary that I couldn’t explain and put into words. It wasn’t something eerie or frightening, but something that was calming and restoring. My hunger grew for more information and to dig deeper, although I didn’t get to witness anything else other than my own feelings, there was something undeniable, something never felt before. I think the timing was right for me to be open to those things and not just dismiss them. I think about my journey and I was ready for another sign. I needed something to believe in and something I could feel. I definitely got that and there was something that put my soul at ease while vacationing at Mount Shasta. Today I would call it a spiritual experience. A energy and magnetic force field, picked up by those sensitive to this kind of thing. It’s rather fascinating and then I learned about the possible cause.
Sad Embrace – Oracle card reading
“Loss is a part of life. Let go and allow time to heal you.”
This was the card I drew during my third oracle card reading and I have to admit that my original feelings were a little frightened. Just the title itself was enough to stir feelings of worry, as I could feel the ego trying to take advantage of my vulnerability and paint the scenarios of “What if.” I’m lucky to say that I won in the end and held the demons at bay.
Initially the card looked plain and out of all the ones I drew so far, this one had the least signs and messages for me to take away. So I thought, but eventually this would change and I would find a few things to ponder and take away from this card. Taking out the book describing each card, I looked up the general description to find my own meaning between the lines and here is what it said.
You may be entering into a period where loss is the theme. Perhaps you’re having to let go of a long-cherished dream. This ending may have been for your highest good, so take heart. A better and more powerful dream will be realized in your life if you can accept the loss. Relationships on faulty foundations are meant to end at this time. Disappointment is a form of perception. If your expectations weren’t met, a sense of loss arises, along with sadness and grief. Express these emotions. Tears are like healing rain that can restore life to a parched inner landscape. Growth is always assured. Whatever the loss-however great it is- let go, and experience your feelings so that you may soon see what beauty lies ahead.
Not all that frightening anymore if you can trust and believe that all will find its place. Here is what revealed itself after further observation and studying the card some more. It was easier to notice once I got passed the initial fright of reading the words “Sad Embrace”. I saw daylight and nighttime, a matter of night and day which could be applied in a variety of different ways. Both beautiful in their own ways as well as a reminder that sometimes the smallest of things can make the difference between night and day. I see heaven and earth, the moon and the night sky, as well as the blue sky and daylight, separated with a band of clouds. I’m in between with my being enshrouded in the clouds. My head is drawn to my knees, my vision is covered and I don’t fully see all the wonders ahead and what the cloud cover is hiding. There is still sadness over how a thing or two developed in life and perhaps in my subconscious, it still has an effect on me. I have to let go if I don’t want to be stuck in between heaven and earth. I see a net tied to myself that is secured and attached to a rock to keep me grounded and down to earth while I go through the process of personal growth. My hair is surrounded by the universe, shaping it into a new style, a new self that is still not revealing of how the finished product will look like. I am the creator of my aura and I raise my vibrations through my thoughts. I have grown my wings to take flight in the process of metamorphosis and therefore the best of both worlds will be mine if I can learn how to fly while staying grounded at the same time. And finally, I see the moon and the stars. I remember a quote that the stars can’t shine without darkness and my birth-sign alone is often referred to being a moon-child.
So there we have it, definitely work in progress as life molds us all.
Sky on fire
The sky was something else tonight and Mother Nature sure put on a fantastic spectacle of light and color. I was captivated by the variations of color and the contrast between the dark ominous clouds and the light that was peaking through in several openings. I sat, while I was watching the sky change and ate what felt like my last meal. After 10AM tomorrow I will be on a liquid diet until Wednesday afternoon when the medical procedure commences and lies behind me. I guess it’s a great way to jumpstart my new dietary lifestyle change for better nutrition and I’m not complaining. I have big goals and I wouldn’t have it any other way.