All posts tagged Illness

I’m not okay, and that’s okay.

Published May 20, 2021 by Malia

I went to therapy this morning.

I hadn’t been in a few months, and I realized on Monday, after getting Tom’s official cancer diagnosis from the doctor, that I really needed a session. 

I’m just so overwhelmed by my feelings at present. Since I have a really bad habit of refusing to acknowledge what I’m feeling and just squashing them down deep inside, I’m trying to break that.

Here’s the thing about therapy. I appreciate it. It’s been amazingly helpful. It is not fun. I don’t walk out and immediately feel better. But there’s something about sitting in a judgement free zone, talking about what I’m thinking that really makes a difference.

I’m learning that it’s okay to feel all the feelings. It’s okay to be sad or angry or frustrated or any other emotion that sweeps over me. It’s okay to acknowledge those feelings and give name to them. The important thing is what I do with those feelings.

I think it’s important to point out that just because I’m facing some dark feelings, that doesn’t mean I’ve lost hope or my faith. I’m still reeling from feeling blindsided by all this, plus I’m grieving right now. I’m still dealing with some grief over my old job. I’m grieving my lost babies. I’m grieving putting dreams on hold. And I’m grieving Tom’s kidney. I’m sure that sounds absurd, but that’s just how things are right now.

So, what about Tom? He’s always been incredibly supportive of me getting mental health help. He knows that I’m equally supportive of him seeking help. But doing so is a very personal choice. So, I check in on him regularly, and the door is open if he decides he does want to talk to a professional.

Things are hard, but we will get through it.

A Little Knowledge Is Not Only Extremely Dangerous…It’s How I Can Be 100% Certain I’m Mortally Wounded

Published August 25, 2014 by Malia

If you’ve ever been on WebMD (or really, anywhere on the internet), you’re probably aware it’s only a short matter of time before you come to the conclusion that you have somehow contracted Dengue Fever and Lyme Disease and have an inoperable nasal tumor that is going to grow into your brain causing you die in 24 hours from dehydration and lacerations.  I discovered years ago, in tech school, that when constantly learning about diseases and parasites and such, it was extremely easy to convince myself that every time my nose itched I must be dying.  I think it’s human nature to be a bit of a hypochondriac.  Some people take it to the extreme…


…but most of the rest of the world doesn’t let it get too out of hand.

Last week was a roller coaster of real and imagined pain and illness.  I was sick early on, but it was only one of those 24 hour bugs.  Then, there was a situation that took place that sent my stress level through the roof, and basically left me having tons of panic attacks and finding it difficult to function.  I’m not terribly proud of my inability to handle stress like a balanced human being.

However, while all this was going on, I started noticing a pain, that I was definitely not imagining, coming from my foot.  It started as just a bit of an ache.  I didn’t think much about it, other than blaming it on the fact that I’m getting a bit older, and with age comes new aches.  By Sunday, though, the pain had actually gone from achy to quite sharp whenever there’s pressure on my foot.  So, I’ve been wrapping it, using my awesome bandaging skills (this is something I should put on my resume, because I really do have fantastic bandaging skills).  It really does hurt, but where the pain is stemming from, even if I did go to the doctor, I’m pretty sure they’d tell me to take ibuprofen, wrap it, alternate heat and ice, and  try to stay off it.  I don’t need to spend big bucks to get told to do what I’m already doing (and yes, it would still cost me even with my health insurance).

So, for now, I’m just going to grit my teeth and do my best to try to let my foot heal.  Thanks for letting me whine (I’d offer cheese to go with the whine, but I’m too lazy to make good on the offer).

Everything’s Fine, Mom!

Published January 11, 2014 by Malia

Once upon a time, I was a child.  A weird, quirky, and-according to adults who knew me-precocious little child.  My parents gave me chores, and responsibilities, but never anything beyond my capabilities.  Of course, when they gave me the responsibilities, I knew they were giving me their trust as well.  I wanted to please them, and so I tried my hardest to do things properly.

The summer I was twelve, my mom got really sick.  We were living up in the middle of the hills, miles away from any signs of real civilization (malls, movie theaters with more than two screens, fast food establishments…you get the idea).  Most importantly, we were a good half hour’s drive away from the nearest hospital, and that was just a small county hospital.  There came a night in mom’s illness where a frantic drive delivered us to said hospital.  The doctor informed us that mom needed lots of bed rest.

Now, over the years, mom had taught me the basics of things like how to cook, how to do laundry, and other household things.   Since my dad was working three jobs (pastor of two churches that were 40 miles from each other, and town garbage man), many of the things mom had always been responsible for doing fell to me to do.  It wasn’t a big deal.  I knew mom wouldn’t have let me do it, if she hadn’t believed I was up to the task.  Plus, I still had time to play with my friends.  Besides, cooking meals, and doing laundry seemed a fair trade-off to me, if it meant I got to keep my mom.

Things had been going pretty swimmingly.  My Gramma and her mom had come for a visit and I had cooked my first big dinner.  I made a roast, green beans, and dad helped me put together a cherry angel food cake.  I didn’t ruin anything, and no one got sick.

It was a couple weeks after the midnight trip to the hospital, and it was laundry day.  I remember that the dishwasher was full, so after lunch I made sure there was soap in the dishwasher, and then headed to the basement to work on the laundry.  (The stairway to the basement was located in kitchen.  Handy.  Also, it’s a semi-important detail in what comes next.)

All was well.

I was practicing useful life skills.

And then, I emerged from the basement.

As I neared the top of the stairs, I was surprised to see that there was some sort of weird, white covering on the kitchen floor.  Getting to the top of the stairs, I found that the ENTIRE kitchen floor was covered in about a foot and a half of bubbles.  My first reaction was to get my dad to help me, but he was off visiting with a parishioner.  Which left me to figure out what to do.

I started scooping up the bubbles and putting them in the sink.  I thought I was doing well, until I heard my mom calling from upstairs.  There is nothing like your mother’s voice to send you into a complete tailspin of panic when you’re twelve and don’t know what you did to screw up, but know that you screwed something up.  I ran to the foot of the stairs and called up, “Everything’s fine, Mom!  Just stay up there!”

Hearing the obvious panic in my voice roused my mom from her bed.  As I heard her heading towards the stairs I found myself repeating over and over, “Everything’s fine!  Don’t come down here!  Really, don’t come down here!”

Now, I wasn’t worried about mom being mad at me.  I was worried, because I knew the doctor had said that she needed to stay in bed and not move around much.  Coming down the stairs, in my mind, qualified as disobeying doctor’s orders.  I didn’t want to make mom worse, just because I had somehow filled the kitchen with bubbles (which were waist high at that point).

Down the stairs, my mother came.  She took one look at the scene, and gently asked me what had happened.  I stood there going, “I don’t know.  I put the soap in the dishwasher, turned it on, and then went to change a load of laundry.  I don’t know what happened!”

It was at that point that mom put two and two together, and then I learned the very big importance between dish soap and dishwasher detergent.

It wasn’t my first time running the dishwasher, but it had been my first time on my own.  I knew that the detergent was in a squeezy bottle, and so I had just grabbed the bottle that I thought looked right.

My mom then helped me empty the kitchen of its temporary carpeting.  Ended up using a shovel (there’s a handy hint, in case any of you have a kid that does the same thing I did).

Also, in case you’re wondering, mom didn’t die.  Which made me a happy girl.

I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful…

Published February 11, 2013 by Malia

I’m not dead, yet!  It’s true.  I’m not at 100% yet, but I’m feeling about 50% better than I did this time last night.  I’m not sure what exactly I managed to come down with, but it’s been a real “treat” having it.  I look forward to not blowing my nose anymore.  On the flip side, I’m quite thankful that I have access to Kleenex and Nyquil.  I just hope this week goes quickly so that I can have a fun filled weekend next weekend.

So, let’s see, what non-trying-to-die things have been going on in my mind lately…

-I really wanted to go to a movie this weekend.   I haven’t been to one since I started working a month ago, and while that’s not really a long time, I just think it’d be fun to go now that I actually have a steady, reliable source of income.

-Speaking of, I still have a job!  Granted, I missed a day and a half last week, but as far as I know they still like me and want me to continue working there!  Oddly, the day I missed completely, I was so bored I found myself wishing I was at work.  However, I was so sick, being at work would’ve been a bad thing.

-Finally watched the Doctor Who Christmas special.  While it wasn’t bad, it just isn’t going to go down in history as one of my favorite Who episodes.  However, I’m even more intrigued with the Clara Oswin Oswald character than I was before.  I’m also hoping that she’s going to be a transition companion.  While Matt Smith has grown on me (yikes, that makes him sound like some sort of medical condition), I just feel like it’s time to move on.  He’s getting close to wearing out his welcome.  Bring on Twelve I say!

-Going in the ditch in South Dakota has been on my mind, a lot, lately.  I’m not sure why.  I guess it’s the first time in my entire life that I truly felt utterly and completely helpless.    Not 100% sure what to do with this, guess I’m still processing it.

-I’m finally getting around to writing the second draft of my NaNo story.  The going is slow, especially since I’m pretty much only working on it during my break time at work.  Guess it’s more a labor of love than anything else.

-Are there any good dating etiquette guides out there?  I’m so confused and have no idea how one goes about dating.  It was so much easier when you had gentlemen callers come call on you in the family parlor.

-Thinking I need to get my hands on season 2 of Downton because I was utterly confused by the whole “Her Ladyship’s soap” bombshell that Thomas gave Bates.  It has to be something from season 2, and since I missed most of season 2, if this is something from the show I would assume that’s where it’s from.