This is my assignment today, to write about the good stuff in my life instead of just the bad stuff, to find balance in my writing and my life.

Two weeks ago we were here, me and the big guy, sitting beside the Athabasca River at four in the afternoon, enjoying the view and the sunshine.  We go to the mountains fairly often.  They fill up my cup but why do they fill up my cup?  The big guy says it's because I can't control things in the mountains which is true but there's more.  There's something humbling about the natural world.  It puts things in perspective.  Makes you realize how small you and your problems are. 

I love trees.  I really love trees.  To me they symbolize steadfastness.  They stand where they are planted.  They quietly do their thing as the seasons pass and when they die, they lay down and feed the next generation.  I admire them for that and for their astonishing beauty.  I'm a visual person and I drink up what they have to show me at any time of the year. 

As we sat beside the river we could hear the birds singing and not far from us there was a small herd of mountain sheep grazing, completely unconcerned with our presence.  The river was low because the snow pack is only just beginning to melt at the higher altitudes.  There were two young boys picking their way through the stones beside the river, just enjoying themselves, playing.  It is peaceful here.  I can breathe deeply and let go of things.  Nothing I do will change the course of this river.  It has been here for thousands of years and will continue on for many thousands of years after I'm gone.  I feel small here and blessed to see such beauty. 

I had a meltdown at work today but I'm not sure why it happened.  I was working in our fluoro room, assisting one of the docs.  We had three patients this afternoon and the first two lines took longer than normal, which means I stood around in my lead for longer than normal which hurts my shoulders.  And I was having hot flashes under the lead, with my sterile gown, mask, surgical cap and sterile gloves on.  I could feel the sweat running down my back and my panties were soaked.  And I was hungry because I get hungry at 14:30 and need a snack but I couldn't have one because I was scrubbed in. 

So we finished the second patient at 15:00 and I took the patient up to the desk and there was my passive aggressive co-worker filling out her time sheets.  There's still work to be done.  There is still one more patient to go and I'm hungry and I lost it.  I also have a face that everything shows on it.  My friend asked me if I wanted her to do the last line and I said forget it!  I headed to my locker for chocolate and by the time I went back into the fluoro room, everyone was there which irritated me even more and I started crying, sobbing really.

I was not about to be labeled a cry baby or unstable or anything else.  I made myself stop crying, we brought the patient in and just as I was finishing draping the patient I started crying again.  So I had to stop and get undressed, blow my nose and scrub in again but I finished my fucking work.  Nobody can say I don't finish my work and I don't know why that matters to me so much.  The patient was a very sweet man who never knew there was anything wrong.  Thank god for masks.

So what's my problem?  I was hot and hungry and sore and tired.  But I think what got me even more is that I allow my passive-aggressive co-worker to push my buttons.  I have seldom met anyone more unaware of their surroundings and it even surprises me that she is able to drive to work.  Or maybe it's just the job she hates so much.  Maybe she switches off when she comes to work.  Whatever it is I find it offensive.  I love my patients.  I think the work I do is important and I also think that if you're going to do a job that you should do it well. 

So after work I came home and put my pyjamas on and hid from the world.  I made supper and repotted an orchid.  I ironed my uniforms.  I gave the big guy a massage because he's buggered up a muscle in his back.  But I still don't know why exactly I lost it today. 

On the weekend I had a very short, ten seconds, episode of double vision.  To be honest it was the most frightening thing that's ever happened to me.  I thought I was having a stroke.  I still have to see a doctor but it scared the shit out of me.  I've felt very mortal ever since Shirley died.  I've had an endometrial biopsy for unexplained bleeding which came back normal and a sigmoidscope for unexplained bleeding which shows I have hemorrhoids.  And now this and I feel like a hypochondriac and an old woman all wrapped up into one wet, weepy bundle. 

And I miss Shirley.  She listened and she always had good advice.  I trusted her.  I had a dream about her not long ago and she was laughing.  She had a wonderful laugh.  I'm glad she's happy but I do miss her.

I had such a lovely day yesterday.  I made brownies and did the laundry while the big guy vacuumed.  The bathrooms got cleaned and then I headed out to visit a friend.  I stopped to buy her a lovely orchid and some yummy treats from a local bakery.  My girlfriend who was supposed to die in February but outlived her stay in a regular hospital bed and has been transferred to palliative care.  I went to see her.  She looked lovely.  Her hair is growing back in, short and gray.  She had her makeup and jewelry on and I helped her get dressed.  We visited for awhile and I got to meet her sister and niece.  Then we made arrangements for more visits.

When I got home I prepped for supper.  The big guy's daughter and son in law, along with our beautiful granddaughter, were coming for supper.  I even had enough time to go pick up a new phone.  We had a lovely evening, visiting, eating and marveling at our granddaughter.  The cat was not quite so enamored by the baby, although the baby loved the cat. 

When they left, taking the last bit of brownies home with them I told the big guy what a wonderful day I'd had.  It was nothing special, it was just nice.  I got to rock and hold and chat with my granddaughter.  I saw my friend.  I fed those I love. 

I'm getting used to being called nana.  The first time the big guy referred to me as nana, I looked around for my mum.  I still miss her sometimes.  She would have loved to have a new baby in the family.  She loved babies and children.  Her first job was as a nanny and then she took care of her children and then her grandchildren for the rest of her life.  She loved having her family all together and feeding them.  I guess the apple doesn't fall from the tree. 

The face I love.

I think this photo was taken eight years ago which would have made Katie fourteen.  She looks younger than that to me.  I can't remember where the black eye and fat lip came from;  there have been more than a few injuries over the years.  If you look closely you'll notice that a part of her one front tooth is missing.  That happened when she was at a horrible school for three nightmarish months.  Her aide, a truly stupid and incompetent woman, put somebody's else pants on Katie that were far too long and Katie fell and smashed her front teeth.  Both front teeth are now dead and she had to have two root canals which meant two general anesthetics.  This was the only awful aide Katie ever had in school.  The woman tied Katie's hands behind her back one day to feed Katie lunch and told me about it!  She thought it was a good idea.  WTF!  And the woman was not fired even after I complained to the principal.  That's when we found a new school for Katie with a wonderful program that allowed her to be herself. 

I like this photo better.  Same age, no bruises.  Katie's on the train at Fort Edmonton;  one of her favorite places on earth.  And she doesn't have that anxious look on her face that is now often the norm for her.  If I could erase Katie's anxiety I would.  It started with puberty and has not abated.  In fact it seems to get worse each year. 

I remember when Katie was a baby I tried to develop a formula that would tell me what Katie's mental age would be when she grew up.  I tracked her developmental delays and made elaborate formulas because I wanted to know what the future would hold.  All for naught.  I have a twenty-two year old daughter who can't talk but who never stops signing.  She has an amazing memory and sense of direction, as well as a fully developed sense of humor.  She can't tie her shoes or understand abstract concepts but she understands people.  She can't talk but everyone knows her name.  One year we were in Sylvan Lake for a holiday, about a hundred miles south of here, and a woman on the beach knew Katie by name. 

I've slowly come to the realization that I have no idea what life or the future will bring.  I see that everyday at work.  People are living their lives, working, fighting, laughing, loving and then boom, they have cancer.  Which reminds me of the poem by Robbie Burns, "To A Mouse". 

But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!

I'm older now and I realize I have virtually no idea what will happen in life except that it will end in death which is freeing in a way.  I don't have to fight so hard to make happen what I want to happen.  I can give up control and expectations, a little;  I'm not that wise yet.  But ever so gradually I'm learning to let go.  Maybe that's what life is for, to beat the expectations out of us so that we can learn to just be.

Shit my ex-husband said.

When Katie was a month old and we'd just got past the, "Your daughter could be blind" news from the ophthalmologist, we were driving to a friend's house.  All three kids were in the car,Katie a month old, my middle daughter would have been nineteen months old and my son was eight years old.  My husband turns to me and says, "I only ever wanted two kids."

One night many years later I was sitting at my computer in the family room trying really hard to not pay attention to my very drunk husband, he staggered over to me and leans over me to say, "The only reason I drink this much is because I can't stand being here!"

There was more and apparently it still bothers me.  February is when things finally hit rock bottom for our us.  February is when both of my parents died.  This past February is when we kept taking Katie to emergency.  I feel drained right now between memories and the dregs of flu still plugging my sinuses.  I imagine little dead viruses scattered throughout my sinuses, eaten by white cells, waiting to be flushed, sneezed and coughed out by me.  Maybe that's how it is with memories too, waiting there inside my brain to be flushed out. 

Not all of our marriage was bad, although the end was.  Neither one of us are bad people but I ended up labeled as the bad one, by him at least, because I left;  I asked for a divorce.  I don't think he ever thought I would leave.  He convinced me that I was crazy, that I couldn't manage money, that I couldn't manage without him. 

A good friend of mine died in 2009.  She was a nurse that I worked with.  She was diagnosed with cancer and dead within three months.  She was also only a few years older than me.  It was a huge shock and I realized then that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life, however long that was, with someone who didn't like me.  It was the end for me. 

I was a chronic disappointment to my husband.  It's hard living like that, feeling that weight on you everyday.  It broke me and sadly those feelings linger on to this day, although they usually only bother me when I'm feeling down.  Many years ago, I was nineteen I think, I fainted and bashed my face quite badly.  I have a scar in my eyebrow from that faint.  For years it bothered me and then less and less.  Sometimes though I can still feel it, usually when I'm tired, a faint ache in my right eyebrow, a reminder of an old wound. 

And that's how it is with my ex-husband and my marriage.  A wound that still aches at times, mostly when I'm tired or run down, less and less each year. 

I'm sick.  I can't decide if I have a horrible cold or the flu.  It's probably the flu but I can't tell if I have a fever or not because of the hot flashes.  I'll live but it does amaze me how such a small thing can have such a huge impact. 

I didn't get the job I interviewed for.  I was told I was too emotional, hence the last post.  Turns out the doc who was in on the interview didn't like the fact that I stood up to another doc and advocated for my patient.  Too bad for him.  I am not going to quit advocating for my patients.  So I will be remaining where I am.

Katie was finally back to her old self last Sunday when we went to Special Olympics Bowling.  She has her twinkle back.  She spent a lot of time in emergency over the past month and I'm hoping things will be boring for awhile.

I had a dream about my friend Shirley.  I was in my old house and I went downstairs into the family room.  There were a lot of people there and Shirley was sitting on the couch.  She looked right at me and said, "You can see me, can't you?'.  She was a ghost but I could see her and she looked wonderful, like her old self except she let her hair stay gray.  She was laughing and smiling and complaining about her hair cut.  It was so wonderful to see her, to know that she was okay.

I'm looking for a house to buy but it's frustrating.  I imagine as the weather warms and the economy gets worse, there will be more homes available in my price range.  I am itching to get my hands dirty in a garden.  It will happen;  I just need to be patient, not my strong suit. 

“Compassion is not religious business, it is human business, it is not luxury, it is essential for our own peace and mental stability, it is essential for human survival.”

- Dalai Lama XIV

I'm one of those people that displays every single thought and emotion on my face.  I don't know how not to do that.  I watch other people say one thing and do another.  I watch people backstab and lie.  I watch people get hurt or angry and yet nothing or very little shows on their faces.  Often I feel naked in the world. 

When I'm around intense people, I feel it.  I feel something inside of myself wind tighter.  When things are hectic at work I feel like a whirling dervish.  I become faster but also harder, more abrupt.  Niceties face away.  I can feel this in myself but don't know how to stop it.  Angry people scare me.  I can feel their anger reach through my skin, my body tenses and I get scared and then I get angry back.  Calm people soothe me.  The big guy is calm although sometimes I can feel a deep anger within him and it scares me.  My own anger scares me as well, afraid of what I might do.

Loud noises make me tense.  Too many people.  Too much to do.  Something winds tighter.  I forget that I can let go.  Walking is how I let it go.  Slowly the thing unwinds, loosens, relaxes.  My brain slows down.  It's strange that walking faster slows my brain but that is how is works.  Moving my body eases my brain. 

Strong emotions make me cry.  Sometimes I feel ashamed of crying.  I want to yell at people that I have no control over what comes out of my tear ducts.  Other people are uncomfortable with tears.  It's seen as a weakness or a defect. 

So am I an emotional wreck or an empath?