Rehab-Aftercare, part of the process

I am finally leaving the hospital. I am very excited to leave, also a bit scared. I have been safe in here. I have had help and support. People who understand. It has been an experience I will never forget. I don't want to ever repeat it, but dare I say I am glad I actually went through this and came out the other side. I think I'm even a bit sad. I know I will never see these people again, but I will miss them and never forget them or the lessons I learned. Now I must actually start living those lessons. That is the hard part.

Home again. I think everyone is a bit afraid of me. They don't know how to react and I can sense my family doesn't want to hear all of my new found wisdom, learned from therapy while I was in the hospital, so I am quiet. I am feeling quite isolated. I start an intensive outpatient group and am actually excited, because I know I will find my "own kind" there. It is sad that at times like these the people closest tend to stay away emotionally. We need them so desperately, yet they don't understand. They have been hurt and betrayed. The drug addict gets all the help. While I go to meetings and am surrounded by love and supportive angels, my family is just out there wandering and they don't know what to do. I have found the greatest healer of all is love. That love that is in all of us. I must never let hurts, resentments, sadness squelch that love that burns so intensively inside me. It kept me going in the hospital. I must learn to give away that love wherever I go. That's what will help heal us all.

I met another band of angels at my Aftercare, where miracles happen daily. As another group of ragtag drug addicts work at putting their lives back together. I have come to the conclusion that if a person can truly be humble, do the work and beat drug addiction, that takes such a strong hold over your body and mind, you can pretty much accomplish anything you set out to do the rest of your life. Over the next four months there were so many times I would like to have taken a sleeping pill, oh just for a good nights rest. A pain pill to help the horrible pain in my back and legs or an anxiety pill, when I would have an anxiety attack. To feel that calming feeling that comes over me, just to rest. But I am resisting each time, just taking in deep breaths. I follow the rules and am proud to say that most of my friends in the group are too. We developed a great love and respect and bond over these victories because we know how hard it is. We lose some from the group. It is inevitable. Humility is the biggest part and some are just not ready yet. I pray that soon they will come back, because there is nothing worse than coming to a meeting and seeing an empty chair. That person thinks they can beat it on their own. They can't, we all need help, we need each other to perform miracles in our lives.

I continue to learn and grow and get stronger. Each day that I go to my group I am more determine to beat this thing that tried to take over my life. I am starting to like who I am a bit more. I am feeling healthy again. My hair is starting to grow back, my eyelashes too. I am starting to lose weight. I feel like I have more control. How can I every repay my angels who have helped me get to this place? I love the counselor who takes care of her flock in Aftercare. She is hard on us, but loves us so much and wants so badly for us to succeed. I gave her a book when I left her care and a phrase in this book describes her to perfection.

"We are all here to help each other. Whenever God works a miracle it is always done thru another person." Og Mandino.

This describes my sweet counselor to perfection. She is certainly a tool in God's hands, her compassion is boundless, her love is unending. She works miracles every day and she is certainly one of my angels.

Rehab-Angels and Miracles do Exist

It seemed so weird that this was me. I had such a joyful childhood. Parents that loved me, a home filled with that love and security. Just like being wrapped in one of my grama's handstitched quilts on a winter's evening. Well it was certainly a winter's evening.

That first night was so awful, coming down off the drugs. Scared out of my mind. Feeling as if my family would never love or understand me again. I have never felt so alone. I was put in a room with another woman who was much worse off than me. She was not rational and would periodically start screaming for what appeared to be no reason. I tried to calm her and then go and get someone to help. There were guards outside the doors, and when she would quiet down I would burrow under the covers and cry and pray that I would survive this ordeal and be able to get back to my family. I would do anything. I made it through that first night although I didn't sleep at all. The next morning I found out some of the trials of my roommate, and I began to feel bad and a bit of compassion made its way into my shellshocked soul as I realized that these people would be my family for a few weeks. The strange group wandering the halls of this hospital were all children of God. I was exactly the same as the homeless and the schizophrenics. It doesn't matter whether you are a teenager trying to get high, someone escaping from life's difficulties, or getting hooked because of medication taken while ill. It is all the same. We were all the same in God's eyes. If I were to survive, I needed to learn and feel that lesson and love that same way. In those first days the love that came over me was so overwhelming. I felt a strong love for those in the hospital with me and I started to feel the Lord's arms wrapped firmly around me.

I resolved to do my best.

The Room- It is there for those who are so dangerous to themselves or others that they are put in solitary confinement. It is a plain room with no bathroom, bed bolted to the floor, one blanket, no window. They also lock you in with an aide sitting outside the door. The third night of my hospital stay, I had not slept at all. I was exhausted - my goal was to stay active during the day and pray that I would be able to sleep at night. That third night it was getting close to midnight and sleep wasn't happening, again, so I went out and asked the nurse if the solitary room was being used. There was no one there that night. I have never been so grateful. I thought for just a moment of my big beautiful bed at home with its quilt, the warm soft comforter and the clean crisp sheets. Oh, those down pillows I sink my head into at night. I looked at this cell like room and realize I only need one small bed, one pillow, one blanket, one quiet room. I heard the door lock as the aide left, said a prayer of thanksgiving, got into bed and for the first time in days fell asleep.

After a night's sleep my head is clearer, I am ready for whatever this place has to offer me. I wonder now if I would change things if I could? I can't, What's done is done. But, with much introspection, crying out, prayer and meditation I don't know if I would change everything. I feel kind of like I have moved to a different room, that I jumped off my world and took this opportunity to stop and realize that I needed to take inventory, that I needed to humble myself. I learned here in rehab that no matter who any of us are here on earth, we all have flaws, some bigger than others. I was flawed and because of this I needed to stop and be "deflawed". Realizing this and doing something about it has put me in a different place - a place where my mind is more open to learning, to accepting, to loving unconditionally. To try to be humble always, to accepting things I can't do anything about and having the strength to do something if I can help. I feel calmer. I feel more peaceful. I feel more positive and happy. I like this room better and I want to stay here.

I fulfilled all the requirements and moved into another section of the hospital. There was a bit more freedom and a nicer room. The classes were more informative and the therapy more intensive. I could go to the cafeteria for lunch. It's funny, but when I saw my friends from the other section I run to see them as if they are my long lost family. We bonded in that short time. Here in this place when I finally let my guard down I felt love for my neighbor quickly. It was a lovely lesson in caring for all people. I remember one night in our wrap up meeting before bed as we go over the day, I told the group how I felt about them. I had discovered a new word "psala", which is an ancient Hebrew word meaning "to pause". That night as I paused and looked into each face I realized what each of these people had taught me. We weren't all a bunch of "crazies" or "drug addicts", but valued children of God. I remember thinking at this particular time I started believing in angels and miracles again. These people were just the first of many angels and were apart of many miracles that would be regular occurances in my life.

Rehab - Learning to Live and Love Again

How do I start this story? How do I tell the reader how I got from there to here? How do I explain that to myself? The truth is I can't, because this isn't just my story. It is the story of everyone. It is the story of the lonely, the story of the homeless, the story of the fortunate,the story of those that find themselves in uncomforatable circumstances, the story of those that help the sick, the story of those that support others, mostly it is the story of those that serve, and I think in some way or another we all serve somewhere along the line. So it is a story about us all and a story about hope.

I had been sick for three years with a bacterial infection in my lungs called Nocardia. I had been in and out of the hospital, constantly hooked up to oxygen. The illness had been a huge emotional drain on me and my family. As I was getting better, I was left trying to get off of the prednisone, pain killers, anti-anxiety medicines and sleeping pills I had been taking for the duration of the illness. Basically I was left a drug addict. After six months of going off the prednisone, on October 13, 2007 I took my last pill. I thought I was home free! Was I wrong. I just didn't realize how hooked I was to everything else, and a few weeks after I stopped the prednisone I crashed. Feeling so depressed and anxious I didn't think I could take it. I clung to my anxiety meds and became more depressed, and in January things were so bad that one weekend I took a lot of pills, then would wake up and not realizing what I was doing would take more. An accidental overdoes. My family decided that at that point I needed to go to a rehab and I agreed. I didn't see any way out of this without help. I felt that I caused so much trouble for my family that I just needed to go away and let them rest. I know the feeling of dying was with me a lot. Not taking my life, but just such an overwelming tiredness . There was a lot of depression, perhaps fighting for my life for the past three years had taken everything out of me. I felt beaten, rejected, resigned.

It's been two years since I started my long road back. In some ways it seems like just a minute, but I've lived a lifetime in what I've learned and felt. The people I've met and how I've learned to love, That is the most important. I have always loved, but I have learned to love differently, on a different level. Certainly with more compassion, with more acceptance, with a desire to make another feel they are important, because I have felt the least important and unloved and do not want anyone to have that feeling. I believe one of the reasons we are here on earth is to learn that principal. How to cherish others and make each other feel loved. Whether it be a stranger in a hospital, on the street, our neighbor, our sister, brother, child or spouse. I met souls along this journey who know how to cherish and they have the light of Christ shining in their eyes.

In the next few posts I am going to tell of my experiences as I lived and

learned through rehab. I hope you will read along.

Happy Birthday Abby

Thirty three years ago I gave birth to
my first daughter. After having two
sons, I was so excited to have a little girl.
I'd always wanted an Abigail, after Abigail Adams.
She was a woman I admired because she stood up
for women's rights while being the ultimate wife
and mother. She kept the farm going while
John was gone getting the country started. I don't
think she was a woman to be trifled with. Abby has
lived up to her namesake. How I love this beautiful
daughter and am grateful she is one of my very
best friends. Hope you've had a Happy Day.

Love, Mom

"Sing your song with confidence.
You have a beautiful melody inside you-
Share it with the world."

Julie Mitchel Marra

He makes me laugh

I gave Jake some strawberries yesterday,
and as I was cutting them up and putting
them in a bowl for him, he said "oh grama,
berries are the spice of life". What a funny
funny thing for a two year old to say. He is
the "spice of life" for me.

Rising to the Occasion

"In real life, serenity depends on coping and coping well. Rising to the occasion. Consider the following scenarios. You have a flat tire on the way to an important business meeting. You find yourself locked out of the house. You discover that your husband's college roommate is coming for dinner in two hours. The pipes freeze. The puppy swallows an earring. Someone's sick or snowed in. You're asked to send money, switch car pool trips, show up for jury duty. One minute you're called out of town, the next your're asked to step in on a moments notice to save the school bazaar.
Real life is the collision - day in, day out - of the improbable with the impossible. Longfellow believed that situations that call forth our coping abilities are "celestial benedictions" in dark disguises, sent not to try our souls, but to enlarge them. Just as dough rises in a bowl, expanding before it becomes bread, we become larger than we ever thought possible when we rise to occasions, performing miracles with good humor and grace. Coping well enables you to see beyond the circumference of circumstance, so that the real in the center of you daily round is not hidden by happenstance. Most women are geniuses at rising to the occasion. But we've never realized how extraordinary this talent really is, because it's second nature by now. We've never given credit where credit is due, because we've never given coping much thought. But if women who cope well ran everything, Nirvana wouldn't only be the name of a grunge band. We become more adept at rising to the occasion each time we see ourselves doing it. Every time we cope well with whatever real life throws our way, it's another deposit of confidence, creativity, and courage in our self-esteem account. So congratulate yourself each night for handling the unexpected with finesse. Well done. Today, when you need to rise to the occasion, do it with style. Do it with a knowing smile. Confound them. Astound yourself. Make it look easy, and it will become so."

This was taken from the November 6th of the Simple Abundance Book. I like this passage, because it reminds me of so many great women in my life, and the great way they always rise to the occasion. I look at my sister Jolyn and see how when she was just around 40 she became a widow and took that challenge and not only astounded herself, but everyone watching her with her courage. I look at my sister Marty and the challenges she's faced with Dee's health problems, also how she set the example on how to raise kids for me with her creativity. The list goes on the way my nieces with twins seem to just carry on and all the other's with their little ones. My own daughters amaze me. Abby with her knowledge of computers and the way she handles work, mothering and continues to quilt. And Whitney's talents with decorating, stitching, cooking and I love the way she teaches yoga. You all cope with everything that gets thrown your way and flourish through the growth life brings. I know it's hard, but most of the time you do make it look easy and fun. So congratulate yourselves. To my friends, sisters, aunts, nieces, and daughters, you cope and live with style, finesse and creativity, you confound me. Well done!

Hogan turns 9!

This handsome boy is grandson #3. He turned
nine this past week. Can't believe how big he's getting.
He's certainly the athlete of the family. Every week
we hear how he has scored 20 of the 30 points in his
basketball game and made 2 of the 3 goals in his soccer
game, all in the same day. Then off to do a little
snowboarding with the rest of the gang. Love those
brown eyes. Happy Birthday Hogan!

"Like the musician, the painter, the poet,
and the rest, the true lover of flowers is born,
not made. And he is born to happiness in this
vale of tears, to a certain amount of the purest
joy that earth can give her children, joy that is
tranquil, innocent, uplifting, unfailing."
Celia Thaxter

Maybe spring will come, one can hope.

I need to start getting one of these prepared.

Because sometime in the next few weeks I'll be
seeing a miracle like this coming up from the earth
out in my yard. It seems impossible at this time of
year, and yet it always happens.

And then, (I know I'm getting ahead of myself, but
I have to dream) a month or two later my yard will
start looking like this. Isn't that just the nicest thought?