mid-late August 2015, published 12/14/15. I finally had the strength to do this.
9:30a
Once everything died down with the procedure, and I'd gone back to work, I had no idea what to expect now. Things were slowly going back to normal, but I still had to find out what this new doctor would say and do about the other situation. I was so happy to have made it through that first weekend back to work. I know John wanted to be there badly, but I had to keep going. I was still planning on driving to Alabama in a few weeks.
Turns out, the original GI doctor I was supposed to see, had unexpectedly left, and no one knew for how long. I went and saw Pat with the OB/GYN, and she gave me a number for Dr. Tompson. She said he's one of the best, and that my OB/GYN had practiced with him for a long time. I met with him and told him everything, and he gave me list on some things to do for the time being, to see how my body handled it. He then suggested a colonoscopy. Ugh, I flat out avoided this about 7 years ago, but knew I had to do this, I wanted answers. I lucked out and was on vacation that weekend, anyway, and Sunday I was back to the liquids diet once again. This time, I actually tried to eat and keep my strength up. That night, I was to start prepping, and stop the liquid diet. Not even water with this medicine I had to take, and that stuff was nasty. I had to do two doses, spread apart, and each dose had to be drunk within an hour. This stuff just makes you miserable, and I just wanted to sleep. I had to be in Houston at 5 the next morning, and start getting prepped. Thank God they knock you out for this. The nurses were very nice and helped ease my nerves. I had my good luck charm with me, and when I was wheeled into the room, they were hooking me up to all the machines and positioning me for the operation, so I couldn't move. One of the doctors tucked the charm under my arm for me, a pink Yoshi that I got for my birthday last year. He recognized the character and asked about it. Lying there listening to the buzzing and beeping, I kept thinking how this is taking place almost two weeks since the other operation, and how I'll be glad if I don't see another hospital for a while after this one...
I was on bed rest for about two days, and back to a normal diet. I wanted to eat everything in sight. This hospital stuff takes its toll. And we were given some great news; the results came back normal. They had also sent me home with, ugh, pictures (it really is kind of cool, in a gross way). I even got a signed card from all the nurses. I was now given a list of foods to eat that are high in fiber, to increase my water intake (it's all I drink, anyway), and start taking medicine to maintain and stay on a regular schedule. I can't tell you how much things improved; I had so much energy, was never tired, and I felt great. Even gained a few pounds. This is what I needed for so long!
Physically, things were improving. Emotionally, that was a different story. In the weeks after the first procedure, my emotions were taking their toll. I'd go to work, and one little thing could set me off faster than a bullet being shot out of a gun. I was always so angry, even though I had no reason to be. If my scanner messed up on me, I'd get angry, and I almost liked to destroyed one one day. I knew it wasn't healthy, but also had the good sense to admit to myself that this could be a huge problem if not dealt with. John even suggested I talk to someone, fearing what I already knew. At home, it wasn't as bad, but I still would lash out if something messed up or didn't go as planned. On the reverse side, I could be having a semi-good day, verifying pallets, and all of a sudden break into tears, out of nowhere. I would duck between taller pallets to wait for the clouds to clear. I wondered when the roller coaster would stop.
I had some comfort come one weekend in the form of my extended family. My friend April messaged me and told me of her own heartbreaking story, between her three children, she'd suffered a miscarriage, at 8 weeks, just like me. We talked most all of Friday night, before I had to call it a night to get up for work. The next weekend, Saturday night I was driving home after a long day, when my mom called and said did I mind a visitor. I said no, as I was already prepped for the next day but just had to fix my lunch. I got home, and April, her mom Mitze, and April's kids were all there. I got hugs from everyone, and we all caught up on everything and everyone. April and Mitze made me a gift. It was a beautiful wire basket with all kinds of goodies; a journal (purple, of course) with Bible scriptures on each page and for me to write down my experiences and feelings, bath salt and sugar scrub that April made herself, some 'Joy' essential oil, a scented clothespin for my car, and big box of homemade cookies. It was all put together with love and care. The card they gave me was beautiful, they wrote their own messages and scriptures, and I couldn't read it all the way through before I broke down in tears. Took me a week before I could read the card the whole way through. I felt so loved and blessed to have these people in my life. These are the same people that helped me and my family during the tornado. They gave us a place to stay without thinking twice. The Mitchells are awesome people, and I don't know what we did to deserve them. What I did to deserve their compassion and love. I needed that after what I'd been through, and things looked up from there. I really need to get together with April one day, very soon. I did promise, after all.
After that weekend, things looked up. I wasn't so emotional anymore, but the issue was still there. I knew I needed a way to curb the anger. John and I weren't on good terms because of the distance and the events that had occurred. I was still pulling everyone close to me and telling them what happened, knocking them off the list one by one. I hated it; each time I told someone, after being met with the surprised and happy reactions, I'd try not to break down after delivering the blow again and again, not just to them, but to me as well. Another stab to my heart. The last of my friends that I told, I did finally break down, let everything go. I was mad at myself at first for being weak, but I needed it, I needed it so bad that it didn't matter that I couldn't hold myself together anymore. When all you want to do is punch something and scream at the unfairness of it all, but I honestly had no energy left. Just to lay there and cry, and be comforted by someone who didn't need to say anything at all, and that's exactly what I needed. A small piece of me healed that day. Countless times I'd sit and count my blessings, and never was I angry at God. That day I knew everything would be okay. I knew that after everything I'd endured, I could do anything. This meant making the biggest decision I'd made in a very long time:
Making the trip to Alabama..and doing it alone.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Monday, September 21, 2015
Someday, maybe I'll understand (2)
Music: "Counting Down the Days" - Above and Beyond
Written mid-August. 8:20a
After the doctor's visit, I went back to work for the first time since learning I was pregnant. I was now super aware of everything; every step, every noise, every feeling, every movement. I was put on A dock, and it was not forgiving, and I found myself in front of the computer the entire day, 14 hours of prime after prime after prime. I think every member of QA had come down to verify at least once. It was super busy. But I was only on for one day; I'd taken Saturday off, for our Choir reunion that had since been cancelled, so I kept the day open anyway. It was super relaxing after everything; I spent the day swimming, and my dad even taught me how to make his famous pizza. For a moment, I forgot about being pregnant, and just let myself be lulled into my now former life, a life without worry or stress.
I spent a lot of sleepless nights worrying, and trying not to at the same time. Thinking about things, the future. About John. About being a mother. What will my friends and family say? Where are we going to live? Work? School? Would I be able to go back? Late night feedings. Diaper changes. Crying. Money. What if the baby doesn't make it? What happens after he says thing are fine, and progressing well? So many things, and not having anyone to talk to to help sort things out. I was treading water.
Wednesday came. I knew that whatever happened at this point, was completely in God's control, but I just wanted an answer. I went straight to the radiologist, and the nurse did two very extensive ultrasounds. I waited, impatiently and nervously for the answer. Lying there for what seemed like an eternity. Praying. Nothing but silence in my head. The radiologist came in, and came straight over to me, gently grabbing my hand, and I could see it in his eyes, read it on his face. My brain was too slow to process it; but my heart already knew before the words could leave the doctor's mouth....
We couldn't find a heartbeat.
It was like being in the middle of an ocean, the waves angrily crashing over and over. The emotion hit me with such force, that my world came to an abrupt halt. I wasn't strong enough to keep my head above water. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't say anything. All I could do was cry. The doctor apologized and asked who was with me, and he went and called for my dad. I can't tell you how much it hurt because it was John who I really wished would come through that door. Oh God I have to tell him, and it's going to hurt. My dad finally got to me, and I had to tell him, he didn't know. We cried, and I didn't even care I was still lying on the table, with just a sheet over me. Naturally, my mom called, as if she unconsciously knew already. I told her. I couldn't move, just cried and cried. I knew I had to go see my doctor eventually and figure out what to do next. I got dressed and we went upstairs. I can't tell you how empty I felt. Hollow. Numb.
The doctor was out in the ER in surgery, so my nurse, Pat, came in to comfort us for a bit. She said for me to go on home, and rest, eat something. The hardest thing was to tell John. I saw the stages of grief without actually being there in person. He kept texting me 'are you sure? are they sure? TELL THEM TO CHECK AGAIN'. It hurt me even more to see how much pain he was in. Each text message was a knife slicing through my already broken heart. My own pain doubled, because I couldn't be there to comfort him, and vice versa. I made it home, and my dad and I sat and talked about what happened. He told me about my late sister, Janet, and how hard it was seeing her sick. She passed away at 16 months. He said although she'd been born and wasn't lost while my mom was pregnant with her, it's still the loss of a child, and there's no greater pain than losing a child. I was about 8 weeks at this point. We cried and talked and cried some more. I knew now that I had to be strong and be supportive of John and vice versa. We needed each other, and being 400 miles apart doesn't make that any easier. My dad went on to finish up his work, and I was able to finally admit to myself and take in what had just happened.
I lost my baby.
Everything had come to a dead stop. My parents had been so excited, and so were John and I. Now, now what do we do?
One thing that I learned right off the bat, looking back, is that you can't blame yourself, and I had absolutely no reason to: I was doing everything I was supposed to, eating right, resting enough, no smoking or drinking. I have no reason to feel guilty, and I still don't. This was simply all part of God's plan, this just wasn't the time. There was nothing anyone could have done.
The doctor called back later that afternoon, and apologized. He explained that it was nothing I did, just that the chromosomal pairs just did not come together, and not to feel guilty. He explained that for the safety of my health, it would be better for me to have the D and C procedure done (Google it if you don't know what that is, as I really do not wish to explain it). He explained that letting Mother Nature take over and handle the miscarriage naturally, I could be in a lot of pain, and who knows when the bleeding would start, or how bad it could be. So I was to go back the next day and get another ultrasound. Another problem would soon show itself...
When John called that night, it was really hard. He didn't want to talk about the finer details, just how I was doing and what the doctor said. We grieved together, no longer parents. I don't know how I was able to sleep that night.
I went back in on Thursday, and did another ultrasound. He was unable to get to my uterus, because now there was some blockage in my colon, preventing him from getting a read. He needed to get in there to confirm the D and C would be the best option. I was to come back in again the next afternoon. Friday morning I got up and called my boss, Brian, and told him everything. He was the first person outside of the family (and the first person at work) that I told, but this was an emergency, and I felt better that he knew. He sent his condolences, and suggested I take a leave of absence, as I was looking down the throat of a Step 2 for attendance. Done. I called the company that handles it, and they were to send me all the paper work. Went back to the doctor, and he was able to get the ultrasound. I was scheduled to have the D and C on Tuesday the following week.
He was concerned about the blockage issue, explaining that it looks as if there might be an infection. He recommended a doctor in the Med Center, the best in the world. He was going to set me up with her to hopefully get some answers to our questions. I remembered the hell I went through six months ago (he knew all of this on the first appointment), and this is something I've dealt with all my life. However, 20 plus years ago, technology wasn't what it is today, doctors just didn't have the answers back then. They were sure that as I grew older and my body developed, that the issue would go away. So after being given my pre-surgery instructions, I headed home for a long weekend. I called my manager and told him everything, and he suggested I take a leave of absence. He was very understanding and said call if I needed anything. Turns out I needed the break after all. I made the personal decision to call my sister that Saturday. It broke my heart to hear her excitement (oh my, God, I'm finally going to be an Aunt!), only to let her down with the bad news in the next breath. She was sad, but told me something I never knew about her. She was pregnant when she was really young, and wasn't something her and her boyfriend were ready for. My sister had the same procedure done, so she knew exactly what I was going through. I felt a little better having someone close, besides my parents, who understood, a little better in some cases. She asked when the surgery was, and said she'd be definitely be there.
Monday, I was on an all-liquid diet, as well as laxatives, to be sure they wouldn't have an issue getting to where they needed to be during surgery. My body all but laughed at my efforts. Desperate, I called Pat, who gave me some tips. I did everything, but it's like stage freight where everything in your body freezes. That night, I was miserable because nothing was working, not to mention I was weak from not eating. I can't do the Jell-O/broth diet, I just can't. I felt stuck again, time refused to pass. I wanted this behind me.
My doctor had instructed me to come down to his office before my scheduled surgery (the buildings are right next door to each other), to examine me to determine if this procedure would be given the green light. Waiting in that room, I tried to decide what to do if this wasn't going to happen. I couldn't do this again. With the baby still inside, I wasn't able to grasp still what had happened. I needed to grieve. With the green light finally given, and a huge sigh of relief, it was off to the surgery building. The doctor seemed pretty confident that he'd be able to get in there and do what needed to be done.
After all the paperwork, and a call from my sister saying she was on her way, they started prepping me. The nerves came back. I was never happier to see my sister when she came through the curtain. They only allow two people at a time in the small room, so my parents alternated with each other. My sister was there the entire time, holding my hand and telling me to breathe. The nurse started the IV, then returned a few minutes later with the 'cocktail'. This is it. I wanted to panic, but I heard something then that took away all the stress and anxiety:
Someone from Heaven spoke to me.
I haven't told anyone this. When I lost a beloved family member 15 years ago, I came home and saw a video on TV. It was a song by a group from the UK. I didn't really care for the song at the time, but it grew on me, and that day, took on a whole new meaning. The lyrics were beautiful. It even became a contender on my list of songs to sing at my Senior year Choir concert. I listen to the song once in a blue moon, and I've heard it one other time since that day, but can't recall the event.
I heard the song on the radio, above all the chatter and hospital noise, seeming out of place what with all the other songs I'd heard, but coming at just the right time. This family member was telling me it was going to be okay. I wasn't nervous anymore, like all the fear and worry had been sucked out of me with the fading of the song. This is the last thing I remember.
Surgery was a success, far as having any issues go. They had no problems. We were told that I shouldn't find any issues with a future pregnancy. I was warned, however, that I was not to get pregnant again until this other issue gets resolved. Well, won't have to worry about that because my boyfriend is three states away. Still. After a pregnancy or pregnancy loss, there is a three-month window where you're super fertile, and this is usually when women get pregnant again. Yeah, cool facts, huh.
I was taken home and given a list of instructions on what not to do for the next two weeks: no swimming, no baths, no sex. You're killing me. I'd have to spend my next vacation looking at the pool. I was a little too anxious to return to normal, and swimming is the perfect therapy for me. But health comes first. I was perched on the couch the rest of the day, watching shows with my mom, while starting to eat solid foods again, and monitoring the bleeding. Amazing thing is, I had no pain. I wasn't ready to climb up my stairs yet or run a marathon, but I thought the pain factor would've been more up there. But I knew, this was it, the time when I could finally process this, and grieve. I thought I would be okay.
Friday morning, I went back to work. Felt strange to be back in a sense of normalcy, with my co-workers, and QA stuff, and a normal schedule. I hadn't cried since before the procedure. Hadn't really processed it. The emotions simply had not hit me. I walked 10 steps beyond the front door of the warehouse, and I lost it. The boat finally sank, and I was at the mercy of the waves again for the first time in two weeks. Three weeks later after starting to write all of this, and I'm still waiting for the rescue boat. The waves come and go; some are smaller, and some are 20 stories tall. I was an emotional wreck all weekend. Ups and downs. Brian stopped by my dock each day to ask how I was and offered to lend any support. I told two of my closest co-workers, Tashanda and Mr. John. I was glad to know they had my back, and I knew the process of telling my closest family and friends was about to begin.
The worst was now over, but still so much unresolved. A lifetime of searching for answers for the other health issue was now about to have some light shed on it from the end of a very long tunnel, and the true impact of the loss was about to hit....
Written mid-August. 8:20a
After the doctor's visit, I went back to work for the first time since learning I was pregnant. I was now super aware of everything; every step, every noise, every feeling, every movement. I was put on A dock, and it was not forgiving, and I found myself in front of the computer the entire day, 14 hours of prime after prime after prime. I think every member of QA had come down to verify at least once. It was super busy. But I was only on for one day; I'd taken Saturday off, for our Choir reunion that had since been cancelled, so I kept the day open anyway. It was super relaxing after everything; I spent the day swimming, and my dad even taught me how to make his famous pizza. For a moment, I forgot about being pregnant, and just let myself be lulled into my now former life, a life without worry or stress.
I spent a lot of sleepless nights worrying, and trying not to at the same time. Thinking about things, the future. About John. About being a mother. What will my friends and family say? Where are we going to live? Work? School? Would I be able to go back? Late night feedings. Diaper changes. Crying. Money. What if the baby doesn't make it? What happens after he says thing are fine, and progressing well? So many things, and not having anyone to talk to to help sort things out. I was treading water.
Wednesday came. I knew that whatever happened at this point, was completely in God's control, but I just wanted an answer. I went straight to the radiologist, and the nurse did two very extensive ultrasounds. I waited, impatiently and nervously for the answer. Lying there for what seemed like an eternity. Praying. Nothing but silence in my head. The radiologist came in, and came straight over to me, gently grabbing my hand, and I could see it in his eyes, read it on his face. My brain was too slow to process it; but my heart already knew before the words could leave the doctor's mouth....
We couldn't find a heartbeat.
It was like being in the middle of an ocean, the waves angrily crashing over and over. The emotion hit me with such force, that my world came to an abrupt halt. I wasn't strong enough to keep my head above water. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't say anything. All I could do was cry. The doctor apologized and asked who was with me, and he went and called for my dad. I can't tell you how much it hurt because it was John who I really wished would come through that door. Oh God I have to tell him, and it's going to hurt. My dad finally got to me, and I had to tell him, he didn't know. We cried, and I didn't even care I was still lying on the table, with just a sheet over me. Naturally, my mom called, as if she unconsciously knew already. I told her. I couldn't move, just cried and cried. I knew I had to go see my doctor eventually and figure out what to do next. I got dressed and we went upstairs. I can't tell you how empty I felt. Hollow. Numb.
The doctor was out in the ER in surgery, so my nurse, Pat, came in to comfort us for a bit. She said for me to go on home, and rest, eat something. The hardest thing was to tell John. I saw the stages of grief without actually being there in person. He kept texting me 'are you sure? are they sure? TELL THEM TO CHECK AGAIN'. It hurt me even more to see how much pain he was in. Each text message was a knife slicing through my already broken heart. My own pain doubled, because I couldn't be there to comfort him, and vice versa. I made it home, and my dad and I sat and talked about what happened. He told me about my late sister, Janet, and how hard it was seeing her sick. She passed away at 16 months. He said although she'd been born and wasn't lost while my mom was pregnant with her, it's still the loss of a child, and there's no greater pain than losing a child. I was about 8 weeks at this point. We cried and talked and cried some more. I knew now that I had to be strong and be supportive of John and vice versa. We needed each other, and being 400 miles apart doesn't make that any easier. My dad went on to finish up his work, and I was able to finally admit to myself and take in what had just happened.
I lost my baby.
Everything had come to a dead stop. My parents had been so excited, and so were John and I. Now, now what do we do?
One thing that I learned right off the bat, looking back, is that you can't blame yourself, and I had absolutely no reason to: I was doing everything I was supposed to, eating right, resting enough, no smoking or drinking. I have no reason to feel guilty, and I still don't. This was simply all part of God's plan, this just wasn't the time. There was nothing anyone could have done.
The doctor called back later that afternoon, and apologized. He explained that it was nothing I did, just that the chromosomal pairs just did not come together, and not to feel guilty. He explained that for the safety of my health, it would be better for me to have the D and C procedure done (Google it if you don't know what that is, as I really do not wish to explain it). He explained that letting Mother Nature take over and handle the miscarriage naturally, I could be in a lot of pain, and who knows when the bleeding would start, or how bad it could be. So I was to go back the next day and get another ultrasound. Another problem would soon show itself...
When John called that night, it was really hard. He didn't want to talk about the finer details, just how I was doing and what the doctor said. We grieved together, no longer parents. I don't know how I was able to sleep that night.
I went back in on Thursday, and did another ultrasound. He was unable to get to my uterus, because now there was some blockage in my colon, preventing him from getting a read. He needed to get in there to confirm the D and C would be the best option. I was to come back in again the next afternoon. Friday morning I got up and called my boss, Brian, and told him everything. He was the first person outside of the family (and the first person at work) that I told, but this was an emergency, and I felt better that he knew. He sent his condolences, and suggested I take a leave of absence, as I was looking down the throat of a Step 2 for attendance. Done. I called the company that handles it, and they were to send me all the paper work. Went back to the doctor, and he was able to get the ultrasound. I was scheduled to have the D and C on Tuesday the following week.
He was concerned about the blockage issue, explaining that it looks as if there might be an infection. He recommended a doctor in the Med Center, the best in the world. He was going to set me up with her to hopefully get some answers to our questions. I remembered the hell I went through six months ago (he knew all of this on the first appointment), and this is something I've dealt with all my life. However, 20 plus years ago, technology wasn't what it is today, doctors just didn't have the answers back then. They were sure that as I grew older and my body developed, that the issue would go away. So after being given my pre-surgery instructions, I headed home for a long weekend. I called my manager and told him everything, and he suggested I take a leave of absence. He was very understanding and said call if I needed anything. Turns out I needed the break after all. I made the personal decision to call my sister that Saturday. It broke my heart to hear her excitement (oh my, God, I'm finally going to be an Aunt!), only to let her down with the bad news in the next breath. She was sad, but told me something I never knew about her. She was pregnant when she was really young, and wasn't something her and her boyfriend were ready for. My sister had the same procedure done, so she knew exactly what I was going through. I felt a little better having someone close, besides my parents, who understood, a little better in some cases. She asked when the surgery was, and said she'd be definitely be there.
Monday, I was on an all-liquid diet, as well as laxatives, to be sure they wouldn't have an issue getting to where they needed to be during surgery. My body all but laughed at my efforts. Desperate, I called Pat, who gave me some tips. I did everything, but it's like stage freight where everything in your body freezes. That night, I was miserable because nothing was working, not to mention I was weak from not eating. I can't do the Jell-O/broth diet, I just can't. I felt stuck again, time refused to pass. I wanted this behind me.
My doctor had instructed me to come down to his office before my scheduled surgery (the buildings are right next door to each other), to examine me to determine if this procedure would be given the green light. Waiting in that room, I tried to decide what to do if this wasn't going to happen. I couldn't do this again. With the baby still inside, I wasn't able to grasp still what had happened. I needed to grieve. With the green light finally given, and a huge sigh of relief, it was off to the surgery building. The doctor seemed pretty confident that he'd be able to get in there and do what needed to be done.
After all the paperwork, and a call from my sister saying she was on her way, they started prepping me. The nerves came back. I was never happier to see my sister when she came through the curtain. They only allow two people at a time in the small room, so my parents alternated with each other. My sister was there the entire time, holding my hand and telling me to breathe. The nurse started the IV, then returned a few minutes later with the 'cocktail'. This is it. I wanted to panic, but I heard something then that took away all the stress and anxiety:
Someone from Heaven spoke to me.
I haven't told anyone this. When I lost a beloved family member 15 years ago, I came home and saw a video on TV. It was a song by a group from the UK. I didn't really care for the song at the time, but it grew on me, and that day, took on a whole new meaning. The lyrics were beautiful. It even became a contender on my list of songs to sing at my Senior year Choir concert. I listen to the song once in a blue moon, and I've heard it one other time since that day, but can't recall the event.
I heard the song on the radio, above all the chatter and hospital noise, seeming out of place what with all the other songs I'd heard, but coming at just the right time. This family member was telling me it was going to be okay. I wasn't nervous anymore, like all the fear and worry had been sucked out of me with the fading of the song. This is the last thing I remember.
Surgery was a success, far as having any issues go. They had no problems. We were told that I shouldn't find any issues with a future pregnancy. I was warned, however, that I was not to get pregnant again until this other issue gets resolved. Well, won't have to worry about that because my boyfriend is three states away. Still. After a pregnancy or pregnancy loss, there is a three-month window where you're super fertile, and this is usually when women get pregnant again. Yeah, cool facts, huh.
I was taken home and given a list of instructions on what not to do for the next two weeks: no swimming, no baths, no sex. You're killing me. I'd have to spend my next vacation looking at the pool. I was a little too anxious to return to normal, and swimming is the perfect therapy for me. But health comes first. I was perched on the couch the rest of the day, watching shows with my mom, while starting to eat solid foods again, and monitoring the bleeding. Amazing thing is, I had no pain. I wasn't ready to climb up my stairs yet or run a marathon, but I thought the pain factor would've been more up there. But I knew, this was it, the time when I could finally process this, and grieve. I thought I would be okay.
Friday morning, I went back to work. Felt strange to be back in a sense of normalcy, with my co-workers, and QA stuff, and a normal schedule. I hadn't cried since before the procedure. Hadn't really processed it. The emotions simply had not hit me. I walked 10 steps beyond the front door of the warehouse, and I lost it. The boat finally sank, and I was at the mercy of the waves again for the first time in two weeks. Three weeks later after starting to write all of this, and I'm still waiting for the rescue boat. The waves come and go; some are smaller, and some are 20 stories tall. I was an emotional wreck all weekend. Ups and downs. Brian stopped by my dock each day to ask how I was and offered to lend any support. I told two of my closest co-workers, Tashanda and Mr. John. I was glad to know they had my back, and I knew the process of telling my closest family and friends was about to begin.
The worst was now over, but still so much unresolved. A lifetime of searching for answers for the other health issue was now about to have some light shed on it from the end of a very long tunnel, and the true impact of the loss was about to hit....
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Someday, maybe I'll understand. (1)
Music: Britney Spears, "Someday",playing over and over in my head
Written mid-August. 7:50a
Ever been awakened by words or thoughts demanding that they be brought to the surface and be dealt with? I can't tell you how many times I just wanted to sit down and sort through all these emotions I've been dealing with these last few weeks. What a roller coaster it has been. So, I'm finally sitting down and talking about just how much has been going on in the last month. At least, for now, I can put this out somewhere, because I've had to keep such a low profile lately. And with good reason that I hope people will eventually come to understand, once I feel the time is right, and I'm ready to tell them. Here we go...
After the chaos and excitement of Jessica's wedding had calmed down, I left work Sunday night feeling something I hadn't felt in a while: total freedom. For the first time since February, I had no plans whatsoever. It felt like nothing was holding me down or back. Alright, finally I can do what I need to do and look into this damn apartment, get some finances in order, and just have four days to myself to rest and do whatever the hell I want.
God has a funny definition of the word 'rest.'
I was feeling not-so-normal. Not in a sick way, just now impatiently waiting for Mother Nature to make a late arrival, and take some stress off of me. I had other symptoms I'd never had before (nothing that needs to be discussed here). There was this weird gut feeling I had. Something was different, and needed to be looked at. John was concerned, and suggested I go take one of those home pregnancy tests, just for our peace of mind. Because surely this is just MN's way of saying 'yeah, I'm just torturing you a bit, you're really fine, but you look like you need a good scare.' After work that next Sunday, I drove out of my way to a Walmart and bought a test, scared out of my mind the entire time. The next morning, I waited for that long, happy negative strip, and hey, false alarm, MN was really just messing with me in a sick way....except I found two long lines staring back at me. I was too shocked to panic, but this voice inside kept screaming at me, do you know what you've just done?
I called my doctor immediately to get an appointment. Maybe the test was a fluke, like they sometimes turn out to be. John was nothing short of panicking, texting me every five minutes 'what did the doctor say? is he seeing you today??' They managed to get me in early the next morning. I took another test, after explaining to the doctor what had been going on. Upon coming back into the room, he asked what answer I was hoping for. Um, I'm hoping you tell me no? And all this stress will have been for nothing and we can all go back to living our miserable, boring lives. He showed me the card.
Holy fuck, my parents are going to kill me! Even though I"m 32! Then, after that, they're gonna kill John! but after the baby's born, of course.....
Pregnant.
I cried, a mix of excitement, shock and panic and disbelief. No way I could be pregnant, I never even thought, with all my other health problems that it would be possible. I never imagined myself as a mother. Not now, anyway. I know nothing about babies except they cry too much and are messy little goobers. Never thought that it would happen to me. We were always so careful, a little too careful, with only one other small scare that turned out to be nothing (and would have otherwise been an early Christmas present). I don't remember walking out of the office, where my mom was waiting for me. Well, we all die sometime. Except that she wasn't the one to worry about....She was in shock, too, but didn't say a whole lot. Calling my dad was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and looking back, his reaction could have been downright comical, but it really was serious (and scary). And this was just a month ago! After calming down, we talked briefly, well he panicked about me and I listened. I got back to the house and John called, desperate for the final word from the doctor. Again, the shocked silence that follows the news you weren't ready to hear. And that's just it: we weren't ready. John had just left a couple weeks before, after being out of work, and I still lived at home (and trying desperately to get out on my own, setback after setback). We needed to work this out, what were we going to do now?
Game on.
I knuckled down, got serious. Bought a few books from Amazon, and started reading up and learning. I gave Jessica all of the alcohol I'd had stored up, not because I'd be tempted-that was no problem at all-but because I didn't want it to go to waste. I went on a diet, an all-health kick. Don't think the house had ever seen so much healthy stuff before. I took all the vitamins, and really started getting in the mind set that in 8 short months, I'd have a daughter (or son, I really hoped for a daughter). After the initial shock wore off, I found an OG/GYN in the Medical Center, and set up my first appointment. I found a nurse through my job's benefits, and got acquainted with her. Meanwhile, John and I tried to set up a game plan for our future. It was really difficult and stressful. He is all the way in Alabama, how are we going to do this? We had more questions than answers, and that alone scared me. I did not want to be alone, and I felt more alone than ever, because it was still too early to tell anyone the news, and we wanted more information before we did so.
My very first appointment with the doctor wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He was very nice. On my first ultrasound, he was unable to get a read. Concerned, he sent me down to the radiologist. They were able to find a heartbeat, and determined that I was about six weeks along. However, upon meeting back up with the doctor, he explained that the baby's heart rate was very low. Between what the baby measured and the measure of the uterus, it wasn't matching up. Meaning, the baby wasn't as far along as my uterus showed it should be. He went on to explain that miscarriages aren't uncommon for someone my age. Although he didn't want to scare me or worry me, he also was trying to prepare me for the worst. He asked that I take it easy, keep doing what I've been doing, and come back in a week for a follow up. Things could still turn around, but I now had a very bad feeling....
Written mid-August. 7:50a
Ever been awakened by words or thoughts demanding that they be brought to the surface and be dealt with? I can't tell you how many times I just wanted to sit down and sort through all these emotions I've been dealing with these last few weeks. What a roller coaster it has been. So, I'm finally sitting down and talking about just how much has been going on in the last month. At least, for now, I can put this out somewhere, because I've had to keep such a low profile lately. And with good reason that I hope people will eventually come to understand, once I feel the time is right, and I'm ready to tell them. Here we go...
After the chaos and excitement of Jessica's wedding had calmed down, I left work Sunday night feeling something I hadn't felt in a while: total freedom. For the first time since February, I had no plans whatsoever. It felt like nothing was holding me down or back. Alright, finally I can do what I need to do and look into this damn apartment, get some finances in order, and just have four days to myself to rest and do whatever the hell I want.
God has a funny definition of the word 'rest.'
I was feeling not-so-normal. Not in a sick way, just now impatiently waiting for Mother Nature to make a late arrival, and take some stress off of me. I had other symptoms I'd never had before (nothing that needs to be discussed here). There was this weird gut feeling I had. Something was different, and needed to be looked at. John was concerned, and suggested I go take one of those home pregnancy tests, just for our peace of mind. Because surely this is just MN's way of saying 'yeah, I'm just torturing you a bit, you're really fine, but you look like you need a good scare.' After work that next Sunday, I drove out of my way to a Walmart and bought a test, scared out of my mind the entire time. The next morning, I waited for that long, happy negative strip, and hey, false alarm, MN was really just messing with me in a sick way....except I found two long lines staring back at me. I was too shocked to panic, but this voice inside kept screaming at me, do you know what you've just done?
I called my doctor immediately to get an appointment. Maybe the test was a fluke, like they sometimes turn out to be. John was nothing short of panicking, texting me every five minutes 'what did the doctor say? is he seeing you today??' They managed to get me in early the next morning. I took another test, after explaining to the doctor what had been going on. Upon coming back into the room, he asked what answer I was hoping for. Um, I'm hoping you tell me no? And all this stress will have been for nothing and we can all go back to living our miserable, boring lives. He showed me the card.
Holy fuck, my parents are going to kill me! Even though I"m 32! Then, after that, they're gonna kill John! but after the baby's born, of course.....
Pregnant.
I cried, a mix of excitement, shock and panic and disbelief. No way I could be pregnant, I never even thought, with all my other health problems that it would be possible. I never imagined myself as a mother. Not now, anyway. I know nothing about babies except they cry too much and are messy little goobers. Never thought that it would happen to me. We were always so careful, a little too careful, with only one other small scare that turned out to be nothing (and would have otherwise been an early Christmas present). I don't remember walking out of the office, where my mom was waiting for me. Well, we all die sometime. Except that she wasn't the one to worry about....She was in shock, too, but didn't say a whole lot. Calling my dad was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and looking back, his reaction could have been downright comical, but it really was serious (and scary). And this was just a month ago! After calming down, we talked briefly, well he panicked about me and I listened. I got back to the house and John called, desperate for the final word from the doctor. Again, the shocked silence that follows the news you weren't ready to hear. And that's just it: we weren't ready. John had just left a couple weeks before, after being out of work, and I still lived at home (and trying desperately to get out on my own, setback after setback). We needed to work this out, what were we going to do now?
Game on.
I knuckled down, got serious. Bought a few books from Amazon, and started reading up and learning. I gave Jessica all of the alcohol I'd had stored up, not because I'd be tempted-that was no problem at all-but because I didn't want it to go to waste. I went on a diet, an all-health kick. Don't think the house had ever seen so much healthy stuff before. I took all the vitamins, and really started getting in the mind set that in 8 short months, I'd have a daughter (or son, I really hoped for a daughter). After the initial shock wore off, I found an OG/GYN in the Medical Center, and set up my first appointment. I found a nurse through my job's benefits, and got acquainted with her. Meanwhile, John and I tried to set up a game plan for our future. It was really difficult and stressful. He is all the way in Alabama, how are we going to do this? We had more questions than answers, and that alone scared me. I did not want to be alone, and I felt more alone than ever, because it was still too early to tell anyone the news, and we wanted more information before we did so.
My very first appointment with the doctor wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He was very nice. On my first ultrasound, he was unable to get a read. Concerned, he sent me down to the radiologist. They were able to find a heartbeat, and determined that I was about six weeks along. However, upon meeting back up with the doctor, he explained that the baby's heart rate was very low. Between what the baby measured and the measure of the uterus, it wasn't matching up. Meaning, the baby wasn't as far along as my uterus showed it should be. He went on to explain that miscarriages aren't uncommon for someone my age. Although he didn't want to scare me or worry me, he also was trying to prepare me for the worst. He asked that I take it easy, keep doing what I've been doing, and come back in a week for a follow up. Things could still turn around, but I now had a very bad feeling....
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Warehouse fun, and watching the skies just got more interesting.
Music: The news. Waiting to see how long I'm gonna freeze my ass off this weekend.
4:30p
I could sum up this past work week in three words: hectic, frustrating, and fast. If I wasn't standing in front of a computer setting primes, something was wrong. After my record-breaking four pages from Friday, Saturday and Sunday were a little slower, and this time, I had a partner. Saturday my co-worker and I set a plan into action; I was to be in charge of setting primes only, and she could verify. Halfway through the day, I swear she was going to kill my boss (guess who got dumped over in Phase one again!), thus breaking up our thing we had going. Again, I get over there, and there's nothing to verify. Called my boss. P2 was running over 400 labels (yikes) and asked me to come back, saying he'd probably send me back towards the end of the day. Okay, ya'll gonna have to start paying my gas for this. Good news is I didn't have to go back. Even better news is that I saw just how much my boss cares for his team. Too many fingers are being pointed at us (from receiving) on how we're 'not doing our job.' People, please understand, when we get asked to set a prime, these are now the steps we have to follow (as of the 1st):
1. What department is the item?
2. How much of said item is coming in/on order?
3. What's the freight type, and the weight of the item?
4. Find what dock item is going to, according to dept. #
5. Find a prime depending on weight and freight type of item.
6. Find an OPEN prime.
7. Set prime. Be sure dimensions are accurate.
Not to mention, we're trying to decide during this whole process if this is going on standard pallets, or tier racks. Seven steps (with some minor details that I'm not listing), and total time it takes is about 10 minutes (if you're quick) to set your prime. Now, if you're getting 10 at a time from unloaders who refuse to follow protocol, do the math and it takes anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half! This is exactly what happened to me on Friday. Boss wasn't happy....with THEM. As QA, we ask our dock folks to get with us with each different item they come upon. Saturday and Sunday, QA was let off before 6, and receiving was still going. Not complaining there, that is, until each night, right at 6, and AFTER QA had been paged to bring it in, I was handed two primes each time. Immediately called my boss. He didn't need a cart; he came charging down the dock, on foot, probably faster than the golf cart could have taken him! It was funny and serious at the same time. He wasn't afraid to get into the manager's office. I had the last laugh, as he then turned me loose, and I didn't have to set a single prime. You're talking about 20 minutes to set two primes. Not happening, and he wasn't about to let any one of us succumb to their needs, when it was receiving's responsibility to find QA before the last possible minute. ('oh, but we tried to find you') Nah, not having it, and neither was my boss. So happy was I when the weekend was over, that I think I was actually high (not to mention, no OT this week).
So what does this mean for me? The last couple of weeks, I've been enjoying my freedom, kind of in limbo. Not really committing to staying or going. But now that I've found just how much my boss sees what's going on, and is trying to keep his QA team out of trouble, I don't know. I still hate counting and unsure just how much he can help if I ask. I really don't know. And naturally, while typing this, my email job alert goes off. Coincidence??
FREAKY.
*opens up email and discards it just as fast* Nothing to see here, move along.
Still undecided.
So, I'm on my way home Sunday night, when I see what looks like a funnel cloud just a few miles north of me. Of course, it's nearly dark, and hard to see. It didn't look like it was anywhere near the plants, but like I said, hard to see from the distance and it was dark, plus it's hard to really look when you're doing 70 down the highway. I ran to Taco Bell and parked myself, excited and freaking out all the while because omg it could have been real! Hey, let me have my moment. The skies were freakishly green and dark. But hardly any wind. Oh, well. The thought of moving right down the road is becoming all the more tempting.
This week, I did some research, and finally took the plunge. I'm taking a Skywarn class this coming Tuesday. If you don't know Skywarn, you don't know weather. I've known about this organization for over 10 years, from the first time I saw a vehicle with the logo plastered on its bumper when I worked at McDonald's, thus naturally sparking my curiosity. Skywarn uses volunteers to be the eyes and the ears in the field when radar fails. Meaning, these people can spot rotating wall clouds, funnel clouds/tornadoes, or even flash flooding when the radar cannot. They relay reports to the National Weather Service to aid in warnings to the public, and ultimately, they save lives!
I missed my opportunity last year to join. This year, they are offering two online classes for the month of March. Classes are free, and once you pass, you become a certified spotter. This is a HUGE opportunity for me, and I'm all too excited and anxious to become a part of the Skywarn community. So, this week, I've spent countless hours researching and learning. This is amazing! On getting my next check, I'm going to buy a weather radio and a book I've been after for years. God has opened a door that I'm sure will lead to others as well.
Three days of warehouse fun are ahead of me, then it's back to studying and class next week. Next time I post, hopefully you'll be looking at Sky's newest member!
For now, I'm out. :)
4:30p
I could sum up this past work week in three words: hectic, frustrating, and fast. If I wasn't standing in front of a computer setting primes, something was wrong. After my record-breaking four pages from Friday, Saturday and Sunday were a little slower, and this time, I had a partner. Saturday my co-worker and I set a plan into action; I was to be in charge of setting primes only, and she could verify. Halfway through the day, I swear she was going to kill my boss (guess who got dumped over in Phase one again!), thus breaking up our thing we had going. Again, I get over there, and there's nothing to verify. Called my boss. P2 was running over 400 labels (yikes) and asked me to come back, saying he'd probably send me back towards the end of the day. Okay, ya'll gonna have to start paying my gas for this. Good news is I didn't have to go back. Even better news is that I saw just how much my boss cares for his team. Too many fingers are being pointed at us (from receiving) on how we're 'not doing our job.' People, please understand, when we get asked to set a prime, these are now the steps we have to follow (as of the 1st):
1. What department is the item?
2. How much of said item is coming in/on order?
3. What's the freight type, and the weight of the item?
4. Find what dock item is going to, according to dept. #
5. Find a prime depending on weight and freight type of item.
6. Find an OPEN prime.
7. Set prime. Be sure dimensions are accurate.
Not to mention, we're trying to decide during this whole process if this is going on standard pallets, or tier racks. Seven steps (with some minor details that I'm not listing), and total time it takes is about 10 minutes (if you're quick) to set your prime. Now, if you're getting 10 at a time from unloaders who refuse to follow protocol, do the math and it takes anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half! This is exactly what happened to me on Friday. Boss wasn't happy....with THEM. As QA, we ask our dock folks to get with us with each different item they come upon. Saturday and Sunday, QA was let off before 6, and receiving was still going. Not complaining there, that is, until each night, right at 6, and AFTER QA had been paged to bring it in, I was handed two primes each time. Immediately called my boss. He didn't need a cart; he came charging down the dock, on foot, probably faster than the golf cart could have taken him! It was funny and serious at the same time. He wasn't afraid to get into the manager's office. I had the last laugh, as he then turned me loose, and I didn't have to set a single prime. You're talking about 20 minutes to set two primes. Not happening, and he wasn't about to let any one of us succumb to their needs, when it was receiving's responsibility to find QA before the last possible minute. ('oh, but we tried to find you') Nah, not having it, and neither was my boss. So happy was I when the weekend was over, that I think I was actually high (not to mention, no OT this week).
So what does this mean for me? The last couple of weeks, I've been enjoying my freedom, kind of in limbo. Not really committing to staying or going. But now that I've found just how much my boss sees what's going on, and is trying to keep his QA team out of trouble, I don't know. I still hate counting and unsure just how much he can help if I ask. I really don't know. And naturally, while typing this, my email job alert goes off. Coincidence??
FREAKY.
*opens up email and discards it just as fast* Nothing to see here, move along.
Still undecided.
So, I'm on my way home Sunday night, when I see what looks like a funnel cloud just a few miles north of me. Of course, it's nearly dark, and hard to see. It didn't look like it was anywhere near the plants, but like I said, hard to see from the distance and it was dark, plus it's hard to really look when you're doing 70 down the highway. I ran to Taco Bell and parked myself, excited and freaking out all the while because omg it could have been real! Hey, let me have my moment. The skies were freakishly green and dark. But hardly any wind. Oh, well. The thought of moving right down the road is becoming all the more tempting.
This week, I did some research, and finally took the plunge. I'm taking a Skywarn class this coming Tuesday. If you don't know Skywarn, you don't know weather. I've known about this organization for over 10 years, from the first time I saw a vehicle with the logo plastered on its bumper when I worked at McDonald's, thus naturally sparking my curiosity. Skywarn uses volunteers to be the eyes and the ears in the field when radar fails. Meaning, these people can spot rotating wall clouds, funnel clouds/tornadoes, or even flash flooding when the radar cannot. They relay reports to the National Weather Service to aid in warnings to the public, and ultimately, they save lives!
I missed my opportunity last year to join. This year, they are offering two online classes for the month of March. Classes are free, and once you pass, you become a certified spotter. This is a HUGE opportunity for me, and I'm all too excited and anxious to become a part of the Skywarn community. So, this week, I've spent countless hours researching and learning. This is amazing! On getting my next check, I'm going to buy a weather radio and a book I've been after for years. God has opened a door that I'm sure will lead to others as well.
Three days of warehouse fun are ahead of me, then it's back to studying and class next week. Next time I post, hopefully you'll be looking at Sky's newest member!
For now, I'm out. :)
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Watching the ice caps melt away..
Music: Restaurant Impossible on Food Network.
Looking at the time is depressing me.
I never did pick up where I left off from last time. Things on the other side of the world (commonly referred to as Spring) were tense last week, and my anxiety levels shot up so quick and was so severe, I actually am considering asking my doctor to put me back on my medication after 10 years. Everyone at that house is going through their own situations, which causes me to not get a moment's peace (and I go up there to get away from everything..).
But I believe my own situation might have something to do with the stress. I am two days away from getting my step 2 removed, and I still have no clue what I'm going to do. The flip-flopping is leaving me exhausted, and I'm tired of balancing the pros and cons. But I made it-all the sweating in the beginning and me prematurely panicking and ready to jump ship (and went as far as asking.....that, um, guy....by the dealership. Yes, I sunk that low. I'm still kicking myself for it. The hell was I thinking?)-and here I am. I wrestle with the question 'do I stay or do I go' every second of everyday. I wish God would give me a little nod (more like shove) in the right direction. I need a day off where I can sit down an analyze every angle and weigh one against the other. What do I do to make this work? I'm still unsure....
I'm still waiting on my first Invisalign refinement tray. I've had this set of braces in for three weeks now, and this week I've started getting headaches (whether stress related or braces related I have no idea), and I wish I could get them so I can get back on track with this. I want them off in October. I can't move forward until I get these trays. Oh yeah, and I researched the gum issue (with some scary examples). Gum is bad, bad, bad. Of course, you don't chew it with the trays in. Idiot. With attachments, gum is bad, bad, bad. Unless someone who's been through the treatment can correct me (I'll love you forever...I'm scared shitless to ask my dentist). So looks like that banana gum that Juan gave me from Mexico will have to sit another 9 months on my desk. Looks really good, too. Oh well. It'll be well worth the sacrifice come October! (hope the gum is still good by then)
For now, I'm just here, trying to survive and have fun doing it. I'll update again soon. I'm going to go play Wartune and hide in my castle now.
Looking at the time is depressing me.
I never did pick up where I left off from last time. Things on the other side of the world (commonly referred to as Spring) were tense last week, and my anxiety levels shot up so quick and was so severe, I actually am considering asking my doctor to put me back on my medication after 10 years. Everyone at that house is going through their own situations, which causes me to not get a moment's peace (and I go up there to get away from everything..).
But I believe my own situation might have something to do with the stress. I am two days away from getting my step 2 removed, and I still have no clue what I'm going to do. The flip-flopping is leaving me exhausted, and I'm tired of balancing the pros and cons. But I made it-all the sweating in the beginning and me prematurely panicking and ready to jump ship (and went as far as asking.....that, um, guy....by the dealership. Yes, I sunk that low. I'm still kicking myself for it. The hell was I thinking?)-and here I am. I wrestle with the question 'do I stay or do I go' every second of everyday. I wish God would give me a little nod (more like shove) in the right direction. I need a day off where I can sit down an analyze every angle and weigh one against the other. What do I do to make this work? I'm still unsure....
I'm still waiting on my first Invisalign refinement tray. I've had this set of braces in for three weeks now, and this week I've started getting headaches (whether stress related or braces related I have no idea), and I wish I could get them so I can get back on track with this. I want them off in October. I can't move forward until I get these trays. Oh yeah, and I researched the gum issue (with some scary examples). Gum is bad, bad, bad. Of course, you don't chew it with the trays in. Idiot. With attachments, gum is bad, bad, bad. Unless someone who's been through the treatment can correct me (I'll love you forever...I'm scared shitless to ask my dentist). So looks like that banana gum that Juan gave me from Mexico will have to sit another 9 months on my desk. Looks really good, too. Oh well. It'll be well worth the sacrifice come October! (hope the gum is still good by then)
For now, I'm just here, trying to survive and have fun doing it. I'll update again soon. I'm going to go play Wartune and hide in my castle now.
Monday, January 26, 2015
I swear these are happy tears.
Music: Above and Beyond- Group Therapy (Full Album). Yes, I'm kind of on a kick here lately.
9p
This past week alone has given me hope that 2015 will be a really good year (again with the expectations-still not making them). I kept getting good news left and right, and for a Monday, I'm in a great mood! Yeah, not normal for me!
I didn't have an exciting weekend. Boring and slow were the key words. Hardly any work for anyone, thanks to weather playing a factor in our inbound. So that made for a very slow process on the docks. I guess with production looming around the corner, I used that as motivation. I started getting myself in that mode, pacing myself to see just how easy 50 label scans an hour could be. The law is: if there's work, 50 labels is a piece of cake, if there's no work, well, you're kinda screwed. Just like when I used to haul. After nearly two years of not having to worry about production, it's kind of strange to use the word again. Friday and Saturday started out heavy, and I had 50 labels, easy. By lunch, when things started to slow and doors started to close, I was annoyed because like I always say, I can't STAND having nothing to do. My boss sent us folks on the docks home around 4 Friday and Saturday. Was so nice to come home and actually RELAX before the next day. I loved it. After all the overtime and 6-7 days people were working, I know they enjoyed it, too. Our next rush is about to hit, and we'll be begging to be let go. Not gonna happen.
Sunday, I wish they'd have asked me to take VTO. Hell, I should have just stayed home, anyway. Receiving had only three doors, which my boss left Mr. John in charge of. Um, what about me?? I was dumped in Phase One, the only QA to be over there. Supposedly they had all these 3rd party unloaders over there, and I was to be verifying. Okay, cool. So I drove over, got a gun, found a suitable lift, and said a hello to Mr. Paul, who I hadn't seen in almost a year. The last time I was in this building, I was training to be a QA, a year and a half ago! He was so excited to see me. This was the guy who passed me the hauling torch, so to speak. After our chat, I ran all over the empty building, looking for 3rd party. I ended up on A dock where they were all camped out. I'd never seen Dot Com before. Well, there goes the easy day I was so banking on. We don't have anything to do with Dot Com, as they are a separate area. I drove around aimlessly again, until I found my friend Britta and a couple haulers working on some store returns. I decided to make myself at home. Even helped them out a bit (who's taking advantage of the QA with a big bad lift??). I took down my first set of tier racks from up top (no crashes!). Wasn't so bad.
Around one, they packed up shop, and the building became even quieter, and somehow bigger. I was sent back over to Phase 2 for trip audits. While their workload was pretty heavy, you couldn't tell by being on the shipping docks. I only came away with 400 cases. I even got bored and drove around looking for something to do, but I guess everyone had left early because even Phase 2 was dark and quiet. Eerie. I still left around 5:30, so least I got my hours! But I was annoyed because it was a slow day, and not a lot to be done. I had probably the worst lift in P2, because the damn thing would quit and just totally shut down, right in the middle of the main aisle. @%#%& I finally just ditched the damn thing and walked. I'm faster on foot, anyway. Was so glad to be home, and even got some good sleep.
This morning I woke up ready to get the dentist over with. After all, they were just giving me my next 6 weeks worth of trays, quick and easy, in and out. But when my nurse looked at me and asked 'has that gap always been there?', I nearly panicked. I'd worn these damn things all the time! I freak out when the trays AREN'T in! Just a second had passed while these thoughts flashed through my head. But my nurse had me look in a mirror to explain what she'd meant: a tooth next to my top two front teeth hadn't caught up to the others. I could see that the tray wasn't fitting the tooth, and there was a space in the tray where the tooth SHOULD be. She said not to panic, that it's nothing I did, that it's perfectly normal. After the dentist looked at me, the nurse did another full X-ray of all my teeth. This time around, it wasn't so bad. They simply have to do a refinement. The trays I was supposed to get were thrown out, and I will be getting new ones that will fit even better.
This just means that I will have to wear my braces a little while longer. While I am a little disappointed, I still am getting them off before Christmas! I can endure it a little longer :) So many people have said they see a difference, and I can feel it in just about everything I do. While looking back over the past year, I had a flashback to when I saw the projected outcome on the computer screen, and started crying. Yes, happy tears! I've come so far in this, 9 months down already, 9 and probably a 1/2 to go! So excited to see the final outcome, and thanks to those that have been supportive during this! Love ya'll!
More to come later this week, I'm not done yet, this is only the beginning! My hands and eyes are tired, and I have a screaming alert on Wartune that my inventory is full. Until next time! I'm off to ride out this happy mood I'm in.....and spread it around to those that need it. Hugs.
9p
This past week alone has given me hope that 2015 will be a really good year (again with the expectations-still not making them). I kept getting good news left and right, and for a Monday, I'm in a great mood! Yeah, not normal for me!
I didn't have an exciting weekend. Boring and slow were the key words. Hardly any work for anyone, thanks to weather playing a factor in our inbound. So that made for a very slow process on the docks. I guess with production looming around the corner, I used that as motivation. I started getting myself in that mode, pacing myself to see just how easy 50 label scans an hour could be. The law is: if there's work, 50 labels is a piece of cake, if there's no work, well, you're kinda screwed. Just like when I used to haul. After nearly two years of not having to worry about production, it's kind of strange to use the word again. Friday and Saturday started out heavy, and I had 50 labels, easy. By lunch, when things started to slow and doors started to close, I was annoyed because like I always say, I can't STAND having nothing to do. My boss sent us folks on the docks home around 4 Friday and Saturday. Was so nice to come home and actually RELAX before the next day. I loved it. After all the overtime and 6-7 days people were working, I know they enjoyed it, too. Our next rush is about to hit, and we'll be begging to be let go. Not gonna happen.
Sunday, I wish they'd have asked me to take VTO. Hell, I should have just stayed home, anyway. Receiving had only three doors, which my boss left Mr. John in charge of. Um, what about me?? I was dumped in Phase One, the only QA to be over there. Supposedly they had all these 3rd party unloaders over there, and I was to be verifying. Okay, cool. So I drove over, got a gun, found a suitable lift, and said a hello to Mr. Paul, who I hadn't seen in almost a year. The last time I was in this building, I was training to be a QA, a year and a half ago! He was so excited to see me. This was the guy who passed me the hauling torch, so to speak. After our chat, I ran all over the empty building, looking for 3rd party. I ended up on A dock where they were all camped out. I'd never seen Dot Com before. Well, there goes the easy day I was so banking on. We don't have anything to do with Dot Com, as they are a separate area. I drove around aimlessly again, until I found my friend Britta and a couple haulers working on some store returns. I decided to make myself at home. Even helped them out a bit (who's taking advantage of the QA with a big bad lift??). I took down my first set of tier racks from up top (no crashes!). Wasn't so bad.
Around one, they packed up shop, and the building became even quieter, and somehow bigger. I was sent back over to Phase 2 for trip audits. While their workload was pretty heavy, you couldn't tell by being on the shipping docks. I only came away with 400 cases. I even got bored and drove around looking for something to do, but I guess everyone had left early because even Phase 2 was dark and quiet. Eerie. I still left around 5:30, so least I got my hours! But I was annoyed because it was a slow day, and not a lot to be done. I had probably the worst lift in P2, because the damn thing would quit and just totally shut down, right in the middle of the main aisle. @%#%& I finally just ditched the damn thing and walked. I'm faster on foot, anyway. Was so glad to be home, and even got some good sleep.
This morning I woke up ready to get the dentist over with. After all, they were just giving me my next 6 weeks worth of trays, quick and easy, in and out. But when my nurse looked at me and asked 'has that gap always been there?', I nearly panicked. I'd worn these damn things all the time! I freak out when the trays AREN'T in! Just a second had passed while these thoughts flashed through my head. But my nurse had me look in a mirror to explain what she'd meant: a tooth next to my top two front teeth hadn't caught up to the others. I could see that the tray wasn't fitting the tooth, and there was a space in the tray where the tooth SHOULD be. She said not to panic, that it's nothing I did, that it's perfectly normal. After the dentist looked at me, the nurse did another full X-ray of all my teeth. This time around, it wasn't so bad. They simply have to do a refinement. The trays I was supposed to get were thrown out, and I will be getting new ones that will fit even better.
This just means that I will have to wear my braces a little while longer. While I am a little disappointed, I still am getting them off before Christmas! I can endure it a little longer :) So many people have said they see a difference, and I can feel it in just about everything I do. While looking back over the past year, I had a flashback to when I saw the projected outcome on the computer screen, and started crying. Yes, happy tears! I've come so far in this, 9 months down already, 9 and probably a 1/2 to go! So excited to see the final outcome, and thanks to those that have been supportive during this! Love ya'll!
More to come later this week, I'm not done yet, this is only the beginning! My hands and eyes are tired, and I have a screaming alert on Wartune that my inventory is full. Until next time! I'm off to ride out this happy mood I'm in.....and spread it around to those that need it. Hugs.
Monday, January 19, 2015
3 years, 3 times as hard?
Music: Above and Beyond's "We Are All We Need"
11:20a
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I really hate Mondays. Mondays are not my friend. I don't get that after-three-days-of-working-sleep anymore. I might as well stay up all night for all the good it does me. I'm never in the best mood on Mondays. So why today? In what can only be described as the weirdest weekend I've ever experienced in the three years I've been at this warehouse, I should be....happier. I got my first real feel of what my new boss expects from us. As long as you're current on your tasks, that's all he asks for. Friday left me in charge of three docks, running full speed. Flow had 5 doors, B shipping had 8, B receiving had 17. If I hadn't been allowed to have an RR, or if I didn't have that lady helping me verify labels, I don't see how I'd have kept my numbers down. Top that with setting primes and running to the office every 5 minutes for people running out of slots, and it was a full plate. Running three docks, and it never came to a point to where I had to ask for backup (which we had none anyway). I wasn't as tired at the end of the day as I should have been. So I decided to keep tabs on everything going on the next couple of days.
Saturday was more or less laid back. Two docks running this time, and by three that afternoon, everything was pretty much shut down. Not a lot to do. Boring.
Peaceful.
Yesterday was slow. By slow, I mean wanna-gouge-your-eyeballs-out boring. And those that know me know that I hate not having anything to do. Makes for a long day, and that's exactly what it was. I had only one dock (see a pattern here?), and by lunch time most of receiving was gone. Only 20 trucks, which meant a quick day for them. Once I had every door shut down, I took off on my lift, looking all over the warehouse in various slots, trying to find lost freight. I came up empty. I took a late break, then took off to help Mr. John try to find his missing labels. I hid myself on D dock, and I didn't really need to. I even got to talk to my boss for a bit. Gave me some wise advice anyone can use: sometimes you have to sift through the dirt to find the gold. Meaning, if you want something, you have to dig for it, work hard for it. And don't give up. I could tell anyone what I learned, but I know who would and who wouldn't take that advice.
After hanging out with Mr. John and having some good laughs, we decided we'd done all we can do, and after everything that happened with the last boss, can you blame us for our hesitation to go down to the office?? I REALLY didn't feel like doing strays, RR or not. So once we finally got down there, my boss takes our reports and says perfect, not to worry, he's got it. Wow. Old boss would have yelled and demanded we get our asses back out there and look harder. All verifiers were then turned loose for the night. And I finally figured out the answer to my question. So why wasn't I so tired? Answer: no stress. You take stress out of the equation, and you'd be amazed by how fast things change. I wasn't under any stress this weekend. I had no idea just how much it was dragging me down, why I'd felt as if I'd been run over by an 18-wheeler after every week. I'm not saying it's going to last: things are changing fast, and come February, everything will be different. I'll worry about it when the time comes.
So I'm happy I'm getting to leave early, it's still daylight outside! I go up front and I'm talking to my friend in AP, and saying have a good night. Once out the door and I see the car and I'm thinking oh my God poor thing is caked in mud but who cares I'm free!- and I hear my name. It's my friend from AP. The same guy who cut me a break when I was testing for my PE license two years ago. He took me aside and said how proud of me he was, how I'd kinda moved up now that I had my RR. He told me he was glad I'd made it as far as I had, and how I should maybe consider moving up, like AP. I did say I was keeping all options open at this point, and said how it'll be three years in a couple of weeks. He told me keep it up, and he even shook my hand. He brought back memories of when I was trying to get a handle on driving a PE (and the times I crashed into a pole, the firewall, the tier racks..).
I guess what I'm trying to say is that the past three years have been up and down; difficult at times, even impossible, but I'm still standing. There's been fun times, too, of course. Times I never would have had, had I stayed at that store. I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. I'll be free soon, to move and explore other options if I wish, or just stick to my original plan and go back to hauling. I have only a few weeks left to really think about it, then I have to make my move.
For now, I'm proud of how far I've come and what I've accomplished.
Only time will tell the rest....
11:20a
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I really hate Mondays. Mondays are not my friend. I don't get that after-three-days-of-working-sleep anymore. I might as well stay up all night for all the good it does me. I'm never in the best mood on Mondays. So why today? In what can only be described as the weirdest weekend I've ever experienced in the three years I've been at this warehouse, I should be....happier. I got my first real feel of what my new boss expects from us. As long as you're current on your tasks, that's all he asks for. Friday left me in charge of three docks, running full speed. Flow had 5 doors, B shipping had 8, B receiving had 17. If I hadn't been allowed to have an RR, or if I didn't have that lady helping me verify labels, I don't see how I'd have kept my numbers down. Top that with setting primes and running to the office every 5 minutes for people running out of slots, and it was a full plate. Running three docks, and it never came to a point to where I had to ask for backup (which we had none anyway). I wasn't as tired at the end of the day as I should have been. So I decided to keep tabs on everything going on the next couple of days.
Saturday was more or less laid back. Two docks running this time, and by three that afternoon, everything was pretty much shut down. Not a lot to do. Boring.
Peaceful.
Yesterday was slow. By slow, I mean wanna-gouge-your-eyeballs-out boring. And those that know me know that I hate not having anything to do. Makes for a long day, and that's exactly what it was. I had only one dock (see a pattern here?), and by lunch time most of receiving was gone. Only 20 trucks, which meant a quick day for them. Once I had every door shut down, I took off on my lift, looking all over the warehouse in various slots, trying to find lost freight. I came up empty. I took a late break, then took off to help Mr. John try to find his missing labels. I hid myself on D dock, and I didn't really need to. I even got to talk to my boss for a bit. Gave me some wise advice anyone can use: sometimes you have to sift through the dirt to find the gold. Meaning, if you want something, you have to dig for it, work hard for it. And don't give up. I could tell anyone what I learned, but I know who would and who wouldn't take that advice.
After hanging out with Mr. John and having some good laughs, we decided we'd done all we can do, and after everything that happened with the last boss, can you blame us for our hesitation to go down to the office?? I REALLY didn't feel like doing strays, RR or not. So once we finally got down there, my boss takes our reports and says perfect, not to worry, he's got it. Wow. Old boss would have yelled and demanded we get our asses back out there and look harder. All verifiers were then turned loose for the night. And I finally figured out the answer to my question. So why wasn't I so tired? Answer: no stress. You take stress out of the equation, and you'd be amazed by how fast things change. I wasn't under any stress this weekend. I had no idea just how much it was dragging me down, why I'd felt as if I'd been run over by an 18-wheeler after every week. I'm not saying it's going to last: things are changing fast, and come February, everything will be different. I'll worry about it when the time comes.
So I'm happy I'm getting to leave early, it's still daylight outside! I go up front and I'm talking to my friend in AP, and saying have a good night. Once out the door and I see the car and I'm thinking oh my God poor thing is caked in mud but who cares I'm free!- and I hear my name. It's my friend from AP. The same guy who cut me a break when I was testing for my PE license two years ago. He took me aside and said how proud of me he was, how I'd kinda moved up now that I had my RR. He told me he was glad I'd made it as far as I had, and how I should maybe consider moving up, like AP. I did say I was keeping all options open at this point, and said how it'll be three years in a couple of weeks. He told me keep it up, and he even shook my hand. He brought back memories of when I was trying to get a handle on driving a PE (and the times I crashed into a pole, the firewall, the tier racks..).
I guess what I'm trying to say is that the past three years have been up and down; difficult at times, even impossible, but I'm still standing. There's been fun times, too, of course. Times I never would have had, had I stayed at that store. I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. I'll be free soon, to move and explore other options if I wish, or just stick to my original plan and go back to hauling. I have only a few weeks left to really think about it, then I have to make my move.
For now, I'm proud of how far I've come and what I've accomplished.
Only time will tell the rest....
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Spirit of Fire
Music: "Sirens of the Sea" - Above and Beyond-The Acoustic Album
6:40p
Let me start off by saying happy 2015. I was planning on summing up 2014 in a post, but just never made it that far. The end of 2014 was awesome; I spent my first New Year's with my boyfriend. We spent the day and night with the roommates, popping fireworks and playing beer pong. I think it was somewhere around 5am when everyone called it a night. Was very cold, but we all had a blast.
Things have gotten off to a weird start this year. First off, I made no goals for myself for this year. I decided that doing so would just put me in a position where I'd be let down one way or another, like in years past. So with that being said, I'm just taking everything one day at a time. I know what I want, and I know what I'm willing to do to get it.
Aside from drama in my personal life (we won't get into that), things at work have more or less improved. I finally got my license to drive one of the biggest machines in the warehouse (only took me a year and a half, and lots of complaining to get it). Really don't see how those guys run around with that thing all day in the aisles, but that's just me. They're still fun to drive (and do donuts on the docks), and just adds to my resume. There are still lots of changes going on. I've decided that QA no longer is the best option for me. So I have made the decision to go back to hauling. It's not an easy decision I just jumped to-so many months I was going back and forth between 'yes, I want to go back,' and 'no, I don't think it's best.' I got the last nail hammered into my coffin, so to speak. Yes, I know the state of my hands and wrists isn't the best, and I'm taking a serious risk by going back, but I'm willing to put that all on the line to get what I want. Only time will tell, but this is something I feel I have to do.
This past weekend wasn't so bad. We got a new boss who seems to know his way around, and while he does run a tight shift, there are seemingly more advantages to working with him. I spent the entire weekend meandering between the Flow dock and B shipping, all while trading/stealing RR's, and getting more of a feel for them now that I'm free of my trainer. I left Sunday night at an early time, and for the first time, had a smile on my face that it was over for the week. I didn't feel tired; I felt energized. I grabbed a bite to eat and headed home, slowly, thanks to the fog. Once home, I curled up to watch a movie and fell asleep, but it didn't last long; the thermostat somehow got bumped up to 75, and was way too hot to sleep. I figured since I was up, might check facebook since I hadn't touched it since Friday. I wish I had looked sooner....
My heart is broken and I'm saddened to say that my dear friend, Arnitta ('Miss Arnie' as I called her), lost her long battle with lung cancer on Saturday. I was devastated. I had known her way back when I first started with Walmart; she was my primary hair stylist for a long time. She became a great friend to me. Her big, warm hugs, and her personality alone were what would always brighten my day. I loved our talks. She always talked about her son, who had passed away a long time ago. I knew she loved and missed him. I was sad when I found out she had cancer, but you'd never know, thanks to her spirit and warm smile. She never made a big deal of it or complained. Miss Arnie was a joy to get to know, and I'm grateful our paths crossed.
I sat up for about an hour, just reading all the posts on Arnie's page, from friends and family. I couldn't stop crying. This woman touched so many lives, and was known and loved by many. I couldn't sleep that night. Instead, I jumped on Wartune, and started aimlessly wandering the different maps, looking for monsters to kill. My friend, Foxy, noticed I was up late for a Sunday. I explained what happened, and she expressed her sympathies. She helped me comb the wilds in between my crying fits. We even took down a couple of monsters. John got home somewhere around 1:30, and between his running on fumes from working so much, and my emotional state, we got into it on the game over hunting parties. I got mad and logged off, but not before letting John know what happened, and why I was so upset. He called me immediately, apologizing, and asking who had passed. He said talking about it might help, and that just made me cry more. I told him she'd be asking me why I'm crying so much! I decided I'd try to sleep; it was around 2am, and I'd been up nearly 24 hours. I didn't think I'd fall asleep...
I swear to God I heard the Tetris theme song in my dream. God seems to know when I need people, always at just the right time. Things are funny like that. Because when I woke up, and no, it wasn't a dream, damn song was really playing. It was my phone, and on the other side was James. Dammit son go back to bed...and, oh look, it's 9am. Everything came rushing back from the night before, and somewhere, in the haze I was in, was James' voice, telling me to get ready. Monday morning, after a 3-day work week, I found this out last night, was up til 2am, and you want me to do what? I was completely out of it and couldn't remember how to function, much less form a coherent sentence, and the whole time I'm thinking of how much I just want to roll over and go back to sleep, and God only knows how I must have sounded to him, when it finally hits me that there must be a reason, that you can always Kill James Later, then go back to sleep! The whole time he's relentless and is trying to get me to wake up, he may as well have been in my room, jumping on my bed! I wanted to laugh at the whole thing, but my brain would not make the connection. I told him at least can I get a shower, before he let me go, warning me to not go back to sleep. I considered that for a brief moment. Okay, so it was longer than that, and it would have been so easy to just close my eyes again....God I love my friends. :)
I was up and in the shower, thinking about the night before, not really sure what to do or where to go. I told James about what happened. I didn't feel much like myself; I felt numb. Empty. Not sure what to say. It was nice to fall back into that easy routine, to take my mind off things for a bit. I said I love my friends and God knows it. I wasn't sure how to tell James thank you. Still not sure on that one, but maybe it was just one of those unspoken things, that God knew I needed someone to lift my spirits, and delivered in a way that only He knows how.
Coming home, I holed myself up in my room, back on Wartune, combing the maps once again, still grieving. I didn't open my window, or turn on the TV. Around 2, I curled up in bed and turned on Mtv's Catfish in the background. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I stayed where I was. I felt drained. Eventually, I got up and cooked dinner, and that made me feel a bit better. After talking to some friends on Wartune and killing some more monsters, I curled back up in bed, and fell asleep again. Somewhere in all this, John called me. It was around 10:30. I must have been completely out, because I could barely form a sentence. Hearing his voice made me feel more at ease. I remember he told me it was cold. Don't remember much else. I knew after his call I'd sleep better. I did; I pretty much slept myself out, and when I woke up this morning, I felt much better. I know Arnie isn't hurting anymore, and she's with her son finally. I'll always remember her for her spirit, her fire. So, today, when I jumped on Wartune, I named my Fire Sylph (pet) 'Arnie' after Miss Arnie, for her courageous spirit, and warm heart. Her bravery will always inspire me. May her soul rest in peace.
To my family and friends, I love you all. If I never say it enough, I'll keep saying it. I love you all, God bless.
6:40p
Let me start off by saying happy 2015. I was planning on summing up 2014 in a post, but just never made it that far. The end of 2014 was awesome; I spent my first New Year's with my boyfriend. We spent the day and night with the roommates, popping fireworks and playing beer pong. I think it was somewhere around 5am when everyone called it a night. Was very cold, but we all had a blast.
Things have gotten off to a weird start this year. First off, I made no goals for myself for this year. I decided that doing so would just put me in a position where I'd be let down one way or another, like in years past. So with that being said, I'm just taking everything one day at a time. I know what I want, and I know what I'm willing to do to get it.
Aside from drama in my personal life (we won't get into that), things at work have more or less improved. I finally got my license to drive one of the biggest machines in the warehouse (only took me a year and a half, and lots of complaining to get it). Really don't see how those guys run around with that thing all day in the aisles, but that's just me. They're still fun to drive (and do donuts on the docks), and just adds to my resume. There are still lots of changes going on. I've decided that QA no longer is the best option for me. So I have made the decision to go back to hauling. It's not an easy decision I just jumped to-so many months I was going back and forth between 'yes, I want to go back,' and 'no, I don't think it's best.' I got the last nail hammered into my coffin, so to speak. Yes, I know the state of my hands and wrists isn't the best, and I'm taking a serious risk by going back, but I'm willing to put that all on the line to get what I want. Only time will tell, but this is something I feel I have to do.
This past weekend wasn't so bad. We got a new boss who seems to know his way around, and while he does run a tight shift, there are seemingly more advantages to working with him. I spent the entire weekend meandering between the Flow dock and B shipping, all while trading/stealing RR's, and getting more of a feel for them now that I'm free of my trainer. I left Sunday night at an early time, and for the first time, had a smile on my face that it was over for the week. I didn't feel tired; I felt energized. I grabbed a bite to eat and headed home, slowly, thanks to the fog. Once home, I curled up to watch a movie and fell asleep, but it didn't last long; the thermostat somehow got bumped up to 75, and was way too hot to sleep. I figured since I was up, might check facebook since I hadn't touched it since Friday. I wish I had looked sooner....
My heart is broken and I'm saddened to say that my dear friend, Arnitta ('Miss Arnie' as I called her), lost her long battle with lung cancer on Saturday. I was devastated. I had known her way back when I first started with Walmart; she was my primary hair stylist for a long time. She became a great friend to me. Her big, warm hugs, and her personality alone were what would always brighten my day. I loved our talks. She always talked about her son, who had passed away a long time ago. I knew she loved and missed him. I was sad when I found out she had cancer, but you'd never know, thanks to her spirit and warm smile. She never made a big deal of it or complained. Miss Arnie was a joy to get to know, and I'm grateful our paths crossed.
I sat up for about an hour, just reading all the posts on Arnie's page, from friends and family. I couldn't stop crying. This woman touched so many lives, and was known and loved by many. I couldn't sleep that night. Instead, I jumped on Wartune, and started aimlessly wandering the different maps, looking for monsters to kill. My friend, Foxy, noticed I was up late for a Sunday. I explained what happened, and she expressed her sympathies. She helped me comb the wilds in between my crying fits. We even took down a couple of monsters. John got home somewhere around 1:30, and between his running on fumes from working so much, and my emotional state, we got into it on the game over hunting parties. I got mad and logged off, but not before letting John know what happened, and why I was so upset. He called me immediately, apologizing, and asking who had passed. He said talking about it might help, and that just made me cry more. I told him she'd be asking me why I'm crying so much! I decided I'd try to sleep; it was around 2am, and I'd been up nearly 24 hours. I didn't think I'd fall asleep...
I swear to God I heard the Tetris theme song in my dream. God seems to know when I need people, always at just the right time. Things are funny like that. Because when I woke up, and no, it wasn't a dream, damn song was really playing. It was my phone, and on the other side was James. Dammit son go back to bed...and, oh look, it's 9am. Everything came rushing back from the night before, and somewhere, in the haze I was in, was James' voice, telling me to get ready. Monday morning, after a 3-day work week, I found this out last night, was up til 2am, and you want me to do what? I was completely out of it and couldn't remember how to function, much less form a coherent sentence, and the whole time I'm thinking of how much I just want to roll over and go back to sleep, and God only knows how I must have sounded to him, when it finally hits me that there must be a reason, that you can always Kill James Later, then go back to sleep! The whole time he's relentless and is trying to get me to wake up, he may as well have been in my room, jumping on my bed! I wanted to laugh at the whole thing, but my brain would not make the connection. I told him at least can I get a shower, before he let me go, warning me to not go back to sleep. I considered that for a brief moment. Okay, so it was longer than that, and it would have been so easy to just close my eyes again....God I love my friends. :)
I was up and in the shower, thinking about the night before, not really sure what to do or where to go. I told James about what happened. I didn't feel much like myself; I felt numb. Empty. Not sure what to say. It was nice to fall back into that easy routine, to take my mind off things for a bit. I said I love my friends and God knows it. I wasn't sure how to tell James thank you. Still not sure on that one, but maybe it was just one of those unspoken things, that God knew I needed someone to lift my spirits, and delivered in a way that only He knows how.
Coming home, I holed myself up in my room, back on Wartune, combing the maps once again, still grieving. I didn't open my window, or turn on the TV. Around 2, I curled up in bed and turned on Mtv's Catfish in the background. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I stayed where I was. I felt drained. Eventually, I got up and cooked dinner, and that made me feel a bit better. After talking to some friends on Wartune and killing some more monsters, I curled back up in bed, and fell asleep again. Somewhere in all this, John called me. It was around 10:30. I must have been completely out, because I could barely form a sentence. Hearing his voice made me feel more at ease. I remember he told me it was cold. Don't remember much else. I knew after his call I'd sleep better. I did; I pretty much slept myself out, and when I woke up this morning, I felt much better. I know Arnie isn't hurting anymore, and she's with her son finally. I'll always remember her for her spirit, her fire. So, today, when I jumped on Wartune, I named my Fire Sylph (pet) 'Arnie' after Miss Arnie, for her courageous spirit, and warm heart. Her bravery will always inspire me. May her soul rest in peace.
To my family and friends, I love you all. If I never say it enough, I'll keep saying it. I love you all, God bless.
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