Since we last spoke….

It’s been a little over 4 years since my last post and so much has happened. I suppose I should catch you up, huh?

Well, My youngest son has been doing well with his diabetes. He was put on a pump last year and his numbers have dropped dramatically (YAY OMNIPOD!!) He was put on a CGM and it’s, literally, been a lifesaver. We’ve only had one visit to the hospital for DKA, about a month ago and that was because of me being at work, moving and his insulin being at the new apartment when he was at the old one! Not my greatest moment in this adventure.

Speaking of the new apartment, we moved 6 weeks ago. We made the decision to move right after my husband died. Oh… you didn’t know, did you? I’m sorry, I should have told you before. Yeah, he died January 27th, 2018. Almost 6 months ago. He passed 10 days before baby bear turned 15. Baby bear said he’s not having any more birthdays because he doesn’t want me to die. Anyway, what killed my husband was a toxic mixture of medications. It was ruled an accident.

Baby bear has handled his fathers death well, I think. It’s hard to tell because he’s such a closed person, emotionally. I can’t tell if he’s being strong for me or if he’s really not FEELING anything. It’s so very hard to see his grief through my own. Honestly, if it weren’t for him and my new job (Yeah, I had to go back to work after 15 years of being a stay at home mom!) I’d be a basket case. Someone asked me how I do it and I honestly had to answer “I have no choice. My son needs me” Some days I break down at work and just cry for hours, silent tears coursing down my face as I’m dealing with customers over the phone. It sucks but people at my job are…. well they leave me alone when I’m crying so I guess that’s good.

MY elder children are gone from the house now. They are starting out on the rest of their lives. They struggle and come home for respite occasionally but, they are trying. Right now they are homeless and alternate between my floor and my mothers place, couch surfing with friends and the occasional stay at the motel. I worry about them but, it’s better this way. I have MORE than enough to deal with between my stuff and Baby Bears issues.Cold hearted as it sounds, it’s NOT easy for me.

Anyway, I gotta get ready to go to my second job. MY little stroke patient needs a shower and I’m the ONLY one who she trusts to give her one.


Before I go, here’s my theme song for this year.

Stressed Out


One thing then another…

So I’ve been having pain in my right shoulder for a couple months now and recently found out I have a torn rotator cuff.


Put off seeing the Dr because of Dans doctor appointments and got to where I couldn’t lift my arm. Got an MRI and…. well, anyway, now I need surgery on my shoulder. I was SUPPOSED to go in for the preop appointment this morning but we can’t afford the 200 dollar copay. I cancelled the surgery.

Now I’m sitting here wondering why my life is so fucked up. Dan has been diagnosed with non 24 sleep disorder. He needs a special light that costs around a hundred dollars, some meds the insurance won’t cover and a sleep apnea machine. More testing, MRI on his brain, blood tests, ST scan and another sleep study for titration. He needs oxygen at night. All told, we need about 500 dollars for his medical stuff alone. Insurance doesn’t cover the lamp or the special meds.

I started a fund raiser for Dans medical costs at

If you can help, that would be awesome!

As for myself, I’ll wait on my surgery. I’m getting used to the pain and using my left arm more to compensate for the lower ability of the injured arm. It sucks but it’s doable.

Being poor sucks so much.

Pity Party Inside! Grab a Balloon

Grab a balloon and hang on tight!

Grab a balloon and hang on tight!

The weather has taken everything I had in reserves and washed it straight into the South Platte river. All my reserve Spoons, all my willpower and all my patience. I’m hurting. The worst I’ve hurt in almost a year and the weather is so bad that I can’t even ride to the MMJ store to get something to help. It’s been raining for a week and tonight it’s decided to get cold and start hailing too.

This is kinda how I feel. All twisted up

This is kinda how I feel. All twisted up

So, I’ve decided to throw myself a pity party. My kids even baked me a pink cake with strawberry frosting. I’m not proud to say I ate 1/4 of it. By myself… with milk. Didn’t help the pain but my thighs feel better. Or is it bigger? I dunno but it tasted good either way.


Anyway, I just thought I’d share some balloons and cake with you, in case you’re feeling down or in pain like me. You know what they say, Misery loves company.

A wish for tomorrow

A wish for tomorrow

Lingering Times

I read a post this morning that got me all teary-eyed and walking down memory lane. toddling down contemplation corridor.  It was about the times in my life when I’ve lingered. There are many such times.

The times, recently, that I’ve lingered the most are just before bed. I walk through the house, locking doors, putting dirty dishes in the sink and taking the dogs out one last time before I lay down.  I open my sons door and just linger there a moment, seeing them sleeping. More often than not, I reminisce about the day, thinking of the events and how I could have done them differently.

My eldest son sleeps in the attached garage and, more often than not, I ponder as I’m watching him sleep. I wonder how I can help him get the tools he needs to deal with the anguish that has been thrown his way these past few years. Sometimes I cry, silently, for him. Most times I just feel saddened because the grief he’s feeling now I had hoped never to see in a child of mine. Doesn’t matter that he’s 30…. He’s still my child.

My fifteen year old I watch sleeping, wondering how I can get through to him. He’s growing so fast and has plans to move out when he’s sixteen. My heart breaks when I think about this. He wants to grow up so fast and I just want him home, safe, with me forever. He’s not ready.

Neither am I….

At twelve, my youngest lays asleep on the couch, video controller in hand. I turn off the television, put the controller on the charger and tuck the blanket around his shoulders. He’s so tall now that his feet hang over the end of the couch if he stretches out. I slip back in time, remembering him sleeping as a baby and looking so small. I struggle to hold back the tears as I think of his bravery in dealing with his diabetes. How he’s grown into such a responsible young man in just the past year. I think about his deciding to volunteer at the food bank and wonder how I can nurture that altruistic part of him.

I go to bed, thinking about my children, how different they are from one another and how I can help them become the men they need to be in this horrible world that they have seen way too much of yet not enough of at the same time. I worry… and I pray…… and I let go. A little at a time. Every night, I linger just a moment longer.

8 Simple facts to explain fibromyalgia on Awareness Day

Wonderfully written post on Fibromyalgia.

The Invisible F

Wearing  a Mask by me Wearing a Mask by me

It’s Fibromyalgia Awareness Day!

Every effort no matter how small goes a long way in raising awareness of this little understood chronic condition.

If you didn’t know, fibromyalgia is a neurological condition that inflicts a crap load of symptoms onto patients. Symptoms include chronic muscle pains, debilitating exhaustion, Multiple Chemical Sensitivity Syndrome – sensitivities to noise, bright lights, chemicals, certain medications and foods, depression and anxiety, cognitive impairments also known as fibro fog, irritable bowel syndrome, migraines and dizziness. This is by no means an exhaustive list.

If you need help in explaining to someone how fibromyalgia affects your life or the life of someone you love, you can direct them to my blog where there’s loads of information, explained in simple terms.

I’ve compiled 8 simple facts about fibromyalgia to help you explain what it is to someone who doesn’t know.

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An Experiment in Hijab

OK, I’ve come across something that irritates me so much that I can’t contain myself. Please bear with me on this rant.

A few months ago, I had occasion to speak with a woman wearing a Hijab. It was a wonderful conversation about the reasons she wore it. Not all were because of her religion and the main thing she said that stuck in my head was “try it and see how you feel”

Last month I bought one and that night I put it on, trying to figure out how to drape it so it looked right. My husband came into the room and frowned at me. “Why are you wearing THAT?” Was his question. The tone of his voice screamed that he didn’t approve so I told him I was just trying out a different way to wear my scarves. He shrugged and left the room and I put it away with tears in my eyes.

Then I got angry.

Who was he to tell me what I could and couldn’t wear?

For the next few days, I worked on practicing in the bathroom, with the door locked, when he wasn’t home. I loved the way it looked on me and devil be damned, I was bound and determined to wear it!

A few weeks later, I had to take my youngest son to the hospital for an overnight stay and took it with me. I put it on at the hospital and wore it in public for the first time. It was surreal, honestly. My 12 year old son smiled when he saw me wearing it and said “mama, you look so pretty in the Hijab.” I didn’t even know he knew what they were!

We sat in the cafeteria of the hospital and ate dinner and the looks I received from people around me were a mix of admiration, confusion and disgust. A couple of women came in wearing hijab and sat next to my son and I. One commented on my scarf and we chatted till it was time to take my son to the clinic. They were super supportive when I said it was my first time wearing it in public and gave me tips and encouragement.

This past Saturday I went out with the hijab on, in the company of my daughter and her Godfather. We had a wonderful night and no one even commented on it. I guess they assumed that it was to cover my hair because of the weather.

As an American woman, who has always been very adventurous with dressing, I have found that wearing the hijab does something to me, mentally. I feel more…. I don’t honestly know how to describe it but I guess I feel more feminine. I feel less like I have to prove something… Something as simple as covering your head and understanding WHY you’re doing it does something to you. I find myself WANTING to wear less revealing clothing, WANTING to be more modest in not only my dress but my actions and my words.  It’s…. strange, honestly. But I like it.

My husband will read this tonight or tomorrow and probably frown but I hope he is openminded enough to understand that not all women who wear the head coverings are Muslim and that what I want to wear not only makes ME feel good but honors him as well. Think about it, the more modestly I dress, the less temptation another man has toward me 🙂

Colorado reduces teen pregnancies and abortions, saves money — so, of course, Republicans stop the program!

Figures the thing that works gets shut down. I swear out politicians are mentally challenged.


republican family values

Over the past seven years, Colorado has run an experiment to see if it could lower the rate of unintended pregnancies, cut abortions – and save the state government some money, too.

The Colorado Family Planning Initiative offered low-income women and teenagers access to low or no-cost contraceptive devices, including IUDs and implants, and trained providers in insertion and counselling techniques. Last year, researchers reported significant drops in the birth rate among teens and young adult women in participating counties. The abortion rate among women between 15 and 19 years old dropped by more than a third; high-risk pregnancies by a fourth.

In July the governor’s office issued a glowing press release, crediting the program with a 40% statewide drop in teen birth rates between 2009 and 2013 – and a 35% drop in abortions.

…Last Wednesday Colorado’s Republican-controlled senate killed a bill that would sustain and expand CFPI services…

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