Monday, April 23, 2012

The Lull Between Recovery and Boredom

Well, after this last few weeks, culminating in close applications of Atrazine, Callsto, Dual II Magnum, & Glystar, this weekend, I'm thrilled to say the wave of pain, paralysis, nausea, mental impairment, etc., etc. is receding. Yes!! I could begin to feel it start to turn last night, about 8:00 p.m. But it was quickly followed by intense hyper-activity impulses. Makes me wonder how many kid's ADD, or ADHD is triggered by neighborhood, or school ground applications of glysophate...? Yeah, both I and Rosie had symptoms. She ran around the bedroom, anxious and unable to settle for a couple of hours... I "vibrated" wide awake with hallucinations, and sporadic myoclonic jerks, until the wee hours of the morning. Gee, thanks Sprayers... The Gift that keeps on giving... (dripping with sarcasm.) So today I get to deal with the follow up symptoms, while I recover some energy. That would be the boils and blisters all over my face, scalp & trunk, and the film of toxic crap I get to exude from my pores and that coats my body in a rank, gummy residue! Hmmmm, lovely! (also heavily sarcastic) I do get a little tired of being constantly wet. Well, you didn't think I was going to leave it there did you?! The good parts of today are that, "Nothing feels as good as feeling better!!!" and everything is a mountain to accomplish, so you're busy all day. When I get enough recovery from this, that normal things like dressing, bathing, peeing, eating, aren't so huge, I'll have time & energy left over and that's when I get board. I don't have enough energy to sustain a project, but enough that I don't pass out. Hugely boring!! I like to fill my time by blogging on other sites, raising awareness and helping people, or researching for the Foundation, but I've gotten so toxed, I'm forced by my own impairments to take a break. I can't recall my sources, and on public forums, I can get beat up pretty bad, if I can't defend my statements at the drop of a hat. Frustrates me. That means, I have to give up my only social life. I'm back to the clock ticking. It's going to be a very hard, lonely week, what with my son's wedding in Texas, that I can't attend, due to my disabilities, and my favorite forum that I've had to withdraw from, due again to my disabilities... I don't want to have a pity party, cookies or not, so I've been trying to come up with projects to keep my mind off of my losses. I was weeding, but the sprayers shut that down. I was trying to steam clean the bedroom carpet. The weakness slowed that to a crawl!! Oh, I'm doing it. It's just taking me FOREVER!!! I can only do a little bit at a time, then I have to rest. And fit all the rest of that crap in there, like detoxing, bathing, eating. Sigh. Good grief, the drive belt broke on the steamer and that took me half a day to fix!!! O.k. I can practically hear you saying, "huh?!" First, I had to get down on the floor. That probably isn't a big deal to most of you, but when your feet are so badly swollen and painful, and your legs so weak and shaky that you can barely stand on them, getting down on the floor, is dicey. You may not get back up. And they may not support you getting down. Then you have to turn the thing over to figure out what is wrong with it! It's at that point, you realize you need some tools, and that you have to get back up! Oiy!! Hopefully, you can kinda extrapolate the rest... Cause I'm getting too tired to finish this now, I need a nap and I haven't managed breakfast yet... It's 1:15 p.m. Sigh! Yawn! More later....

Sunday, April 22, 2012

The Cage

Spray season has started. I'm locked in. I'm finding myself pacing from window to window, staring out. Outside is gorgeous. Sunny, 70*, green and growing. But, they've sprayed. & sprayed. & sprayed. In the last 3 weeks there were 3 days I could safely get out. The volume of spray is so high that I'm suffering, even locked in. I've had a constant toxic encephalopathy for several days now. My chest and lymph nodes are ominously painful. My vision and even my cognitive ability are impaired. I keep taking nutriceuticals, I keep doing detox protocols. I'm losing ground and I can feel it. I'm caged in. I can't go anywhere. Even inside my cage they torment me. How I wish I already had my RV, so I could just drive away...

Thursday, April 19, 2012

The Wedding

I failed. I'm heart broken. I will not get to attend my son's wedding. My future daughter-in-law's mother decided she didn't want her daughter living with her any longer and threatened to throw her out on the street. She made her pronouncement on Easter at the extended family dinner. My son and his fiancé had to set the date before the end of the month. I can't get everything done in time. I can't attend.

I cried for days. I couldn't sleep. Everytime I'd try the grief would pour in on me and I'd find myself sobbing loudly and uncontrollably. Wailing. Grieving horribly. Chest hurting so badly it felt like my heart was actually tearing. I fought to get myself back under control because I it felt like a heart attack. I made myself calm down, and think of other things. Then as I started to fall asleep, I'd repeat the whole procedure again. I've never experienced such horrible emotional pain. I've stopped crying at night now. I still just break down and cry randomly. Thinking about it at all makes me cry. But, there's nothing we can do to change it. I won't ever get over it.

I don't want 'my not being able to attend' to cloud their day, so I'm trying to focus on the joy of their wedding, for their sake. I ordered the brides bouquet and all the flowers. The mother of the bride is refusing to be involved at all. She won't even look at ribbons, or trims. My future daughter-in-law is borrowing a cousin's dress and making it over. We talked about how she's going to do that. We talked about her daughter's flower girl dress. We talked about colors and where they'll go for their honeymoon. She told me all about the wedding plans. They will be married by a small lake, with only a handful of close family attending. Her aunt & uncle, her cousins, supposedly her mom. My husband. He's the only one from my son's side who can go on such short notice. I'm upset about that, too.

I'm pissed off, for my future daughter-in-law's sake, as well. It's probably a good thing (for her mother) that I'm not going. I'd probably leave the safety of my RV (if I'd found one in time)to jump her mother and kick her ass, if I did go. I'm having fantasies of throwing her into the lake and whomping up on her big time. No one should treat their daughter that way!!!
Every girl deserves a princess day. That's usually her wedding day. When they are married, she will be my daughter. She will have her day. We will throw her an Oregon reception. All our friends and family will come and support her and treat her like a princess. I'll be sure she has a dress of her own, and a beautiful setting and lavish food. We'll save our presents for when they come. We will surround her with love and support and bring both her and my son joy. Because that's how it should be done. I can't change the fact that I can't go, but I can make a blessing!!

Is my heart still grieving because I won't be there for the wedding. Yes. I can't do anything about it. All I can do it focus on better things, and keep trying to find an RV and get Rosie certified, so I don't miss the next important event. Pray for me, please. The day of the wedding is going to be extremely hard. It is the 29th.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Hoops

I'm still jumping hoops. I want to go to my son's wedding, and I feel as though I'm living that old tale about the pig that wouldn't jump over the stile... Haven't you heard it? Well it goes something like this...

There once was a little old lady that was cleaning her house and found a coin. So she threw on her coat, hurried to market and bought a pig. She drove the piggy nearly all the way home but, when they came to the stile, the pig refused to budge.(A stile is like a little ladder that goes up one side of a fence, and down the other.) She pushed and prodded and pulled but it was no use. She decided she needed some help. So she turned around and headed back t'word town in search of some. Very soon she happened upon a dog. She said,

"Dog, dog, bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile and I shan't get home tonight." But the dog would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to a stick. She said,

"Stick, stick, beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile and I shan't get home tonight." But the stick would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to a fire. She said,

"Fire, fire, burn stick. Stick won't beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile, and I shan't get home tonight." But the fire would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to some water. She said,

"Water, water, quench fire. Fire won't burn stick. Stick won't beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the style, and I shan't get home tonight." But the water would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to an ox. She said,

"Ox, ox, drink water. Water won't quench fire. Fire won't burn stick. Stick won't beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile, and I shan't get home tonight." But... The ox would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to a butcher. She said,

"Butcher, butcher, kill ox. Ox won't drink water. Water won't quench fire. Fire won't burn stick. Stick won't beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile, and I shan't get home tonight." But the butcher would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to a rope. (don't ask me why she's talking to a rope. Obviously she's a little crazy. She talks to inanimate objects!) She said,

"Rope, rope, hang butcher. Butcher won't kill ox. Ox won't drink water. Water won't quench fire. Fire won't burn stick. Stick won't beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile, and I shan't get home tonight." But, you guessed it. The rope would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to a rat. She said,

"Rat, rat, gnaw rope. Rope won't hang butcher. Butcher won't kill ox. Ox won't drink water. Water won't quench fire. Fire won't burn stick. Stick won't beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile, and I shan't get home tonight." But the rat would not. So she went a little further down the road until she came to a cat. She said,

"Cat, cat, kill rat. Rat won't gnaw rope. Rope won't hang butcher. Butcher won't kill ox. Ox won't drink water. Water won't quench fire. Fire won't burn stick. Stick won't beat dog. Dog won't bite pig. Pig won't jump over the stile, and I shan't get home tonight." The cat said,

"If you give me a saucer of milk, I will," and so the little old lady did. And just as soon as kitty finished the last drop...

The cat began to kill the rat. The rat began to gnaw the rope. The rope began to hang the butcher. The butcher began to kill the ox. The ox began to drink the water. The water began to quench the fire. The fire began to burn the stick. The sick began to beat the dog. The dog began to bite the pig. The pig jumped over the stile, and the little old lady got home that night. Whew!

I used to tell that story when I was teaching. The kids really loved it. There's actually a lot that it teaches us about persevering, even in the face of hopeless resistance. It also teaches us not to mess with seemingly powerless little old ladies..... Food for thought.

Anyway, so here I am in the midst of my litany of hoops to jump to get what I want... I've talked to an army of people, and I've managed to at least push one part of the whole equation, a little bit forward. The Foundation for Service Dog Support has agreed to give me the accommodations I need, to get Rosie certified, if I can get the appropriate letters, from vets and my doctor. Well I have lots of letters from Dr. Smith. But I did request an updated/specific one. I still need one from my holistic vet for the spaying. He didn't think it was in her best interest to spay her, what with her having vacinosis...(I think that's why) At least. I would have wanted to hold off, on the spaying anyway, until she was older. Like 2-3 years old. I learned so much about the endocrine system, and how vitally important the hormones that are produced by the uterus and ovaries are to overall health... After I went through that horribly thing in 2010 with estrogen dominance, endometriosis, a uterine tumor, the ruptured cyst and the hemorrhaging. If it wasn't for Ryan moving off to Texas and getting married there, I would have waited. So, my plan currently hangs on wether or not my vet will write that letter. No. No dogs, pigs, butchers, rope or anything like that involved. Just me with my fingers crossed.

That and now Ryan & Michele are talking about moving the date up. Do they? Don't they? Do they? Don't they? Aaa argh! This is driving me nuts!!! I'm working as fast as I can! I feel like I just won't make it in time. It's breaking my heart. But I have to keep trying. It's like that part in a foot race, when you see someone pass you. You can't let it break your spirit. You have to persevere to the finish. So I have to keep going. Even if they decide to have the wedding soon, and not give me enough time. Not going to my son's wedding will break my heart. I can't help but sob every time I think about it. But, that's what happens to us. The toxically injured. We get cut out of everything. One of my dear friends couldn't attend her Mother's funeral. Another was forced to miss her Mother's and her own husbands funerals, and her daughter's wedding. Do they ever get over it? No. They're still heart broken. I have to keep doing this. Jumping the hoops, I mean. Other wise, I'll just keep missing more things. Like grand babies... I'll just stay imprisoned here. I don't want to be imprisoned and shut away from all the family events. I want to be a part of things! I want to live!

I think one of the reasons they're thinking of moving it up is they're afraid I'll get it all put together, and set out across the country, and something will happen to me on the way. Don't they realize that's what every loving parent thinks whenever their kid leaves the house?! Ironic, isn't it? Our kids tell us, "I'll be fine! Quit worrying!" but look what happens when the shoe's on the other foot... I'm practically beside myself. I don't know what to do. Obviously, I'm not as resourceful as the little old lady with the pig. :-(

Sunday, April 1, 2012

He's Back

Well that didn't last long. Yesterday I went out to potty the dogs, and as I came out the door, and down the walk, Ron, who was on the shop roof, started yelling at me. There was someone working Mr. Evil's field and he had a tank on. I turned right around and went back inside. It was already too late. I could feel the skin around my mouth, and the inside of my lips burning. It wasn't long before a blistering earache and temporal headache began.

I knew I'd have to do it...call Jack Bellinger. I sucked it up and made the call. I got the answering machine. I made sure my voice was smoothe, reasonable. Not demanding. Not harsh. Forty minutes later, a John Jones returned my call. Obviously, Bellinger doesn't want to talk with me, I thought. I was as sweet as pie to Mr. Jones. I could tell it startled him. He'd been prepared to deal with a raving lunatic, a witch. You know, what crude guys usually call woman they've hurt or offended, who dare to protest. Mr. Jones was so suprised he answered some of my questions. He told me they were using Metam, and Telone c-17. Later he said they hadn't put anything down, but we're going to just be putting down fertilizer. Sound familiar. That's what Jack used to tell me. That's what caused my pesticide injury to become a disability; Jack putting down chlorothalonil with his fertilizer and not telling me, so I wasn't able to protect myself. Anyway, Mr. Jones gave me Jack's email, so I can send him a list of what I need. We had a little trouble somehow and I didn't get the address correct. I searched for Bellinger Farms website, to look for contact information, and found their FaceBook page. There was a post that said,
"our prime purpose is to help others. And if you can't
help them, at least don't hurt them." Dali Lama.

OH BROTHER!!!!! Now that's hypocritical! Yeah, I'm judging. Sure all you softies might be thinking, "he's changed"... NOT. He was applying those chemicals that Mr. Jones mentioned. I looked up their MSDS sheets and labels. Justin's symptoms that we thought were due to Meds, the day after the first tractor was working the field,mwere a bunch of the symptoms of Metam poisoning. And last night, I had a bunch of the symptoms of 1,3 Dichloropropene poisoning... Telone. So, do I think he lied? Yeah. I sent a very nice email. If he was being co-operative, I would have got a reply. Nothin' same old Jack.

What that? You thinking I'm a bit grouchy this morning? Well since I was up a good share of the night in sobbing agony, my kidneys shut down and my lymphoma flaring, while the poison tore at my insides like acid and my liver distended trying to handle the toxin... Yeah. I am a bit grouchy. /:-(