A Valentine's poem for my husband. 15683U, Rog.
Thank you anyway.
I am not always easy to love.
Thank you for loving me anyway.
I don't always say or do the right things.
In fact, I often say or do the wrong things,
or the not-exactly-right things.
Thank you for forgiving me anyway.
I don't always react to situations appropriately.
I sometimes cry, scream, throw things,
or any number of actions too embarrassing to list–
and it would be a long list.
Thank you for showing patience with me anyway.
I don't always remember what to do,
or what methods I can use to help me recalibrate, breathe, and calm down,
in the middle of hallucinatory episodes,
extreme pain flares,
or bursts of rage that could flatten Bruce Banner.
I should remember.
It's not an infrequent occurrence,
yet I still forget in the moment.
Thank you for remembering, for me, anyway.
I know staying in the house can be boring.
I can't leave the house, or even the bedroom,
for a significant amount of time,
which means you can't, either,
if we want to spend time together.
Even though there are things you can do,
outside these walls.
Thank you for being here at home and spending time with me anyway.
I don't stay calm during basketball games,
and I have a particular type of fanaticism
that could drive anyone away
if they aren't BBN born and bred.
Thank you for not driving away after tipoff.
Thank you for loving sports.
Thank you for loving me, who loves sports.
Thank you for letting me yell at the TV anyway.
I'm not trying to paint myself as a bad wife,
though through these words,
it's easy to see my shortcomings,
even if many are a result of circumstances
I'm not trying to point out all of my flaws–
again, too long a list.
I'm also not trying to make excuses for them.
I just wanted to say,
with everything listed on this page:
Thank you for staying anyway.
I try see the bright spots among dark clouds,
but I don't always succeed.
I try to keep things positive,
not falsely so–
but with Spiritually-driven joy–
but I very often allow myself
to be dragged down by the pain,
the humanity we experience
living on this earth.
Thank you for reminding me, and showing me the light when I lose sight.
Thank you for letting me do the same for you in the times I've been able.
I'm prone to be obsessively passionate,
about many things, people, ideas, situations,
not always in a good way,
even though my intentions are usually pure
(there are unintentional exceptions, of course–again, human).
Sometimes they're misguided,
sometimes they become compulsions,
sometimes they hurt,
and sometimes they heal.
Thank you for letting me express my passions anyway.
I know I always seem to have a song,
or two, or three,
or a website,
or another form of media
I beg you to listen to, read, or watch,
almost as soon as you get home from work.
I know you're not always in the mood to listen or watch or read.
Thank you for listening, watching, and reading anyway.
I don't always do the best job
at reminding you I love you.
I say it all the time,
I try to show it through my actions,
which I feel often fall short,
but I'm not always able
to do or say the things I've planned.
Thank you for loving me anyway.
I can't wait for the day we can again go skating together,
start a family,
go to church together every Sunday and Wednesday,
enjoy a "reset honeymoon" at Disney World so we can put this period of pain and illness behind us,
when that day does come.
I long for the day I can again drive and surprise you
by showing up at the school, your workplace, with lunch,
able to enjoy a meal with you,
in a brightly lit room,
amidst the chaos,
being able to hold conversations and go into public,
without extensive emergency "just in case" preparation.
I can't wait for the day I can again hold your hand
and walk around the park,
maybe playing Pokémon Go,
maybe even running together,
or maybe just enjoying each others' company,
talking as we walk,
enjoying nature, enjoying Creation,
but most of all,
enjoying time together.
I'm neither a morning nor night person.
Yes, I have nights where I'm wide awake,
begging sleep to come,
and not having that wish granted.
Yes, when my body is well,
I tend to get up early,
waking well before any alarm,
eager to start my day.
But neither one of those terms applies
when I'm being asked what kind of person I am.
I'm not a "morning person"
I'm not a "night person"
I'm a "Roger person"
because my favorite time of day,
is the time I'm able to spend with you.
I hope you know that.
I hope I've made that clear,
through the years,
even with the arguments we have,
which all couples have,
but which sometimes seem
to occur more frequently,
due to our circumstances.
Even amidst the trials and struggles,
I hope you know you are my favorite time of day.
You are my favorite ValenTIME.
Yep, I just did that. <3
Hey fellow warriors,
I know 2016 was a fairly quiet year for the site overall, and my treatment blog has been lacking in updates for much longer than that.
A few reasons this is the case:
- I fell behind and got intensely overwhelmed with anxiety every time I tried to think about having to play catch up with everything I've not yet shared. Rule number 1 of blogging: you don't have to share every detail. I'm trying to remind myself of that.
- Life, treatment, uncertainty, flares, herxing, planning next steps, trying to stay above water and keep my mind focused on God and His blessings amidst the trouble.
- Many days, I'm unable to type at all, much less use my laptop (leaving my phone/tablet as options, but arthritic hands cause problems there, too, and fatigue interferes with my ability to write, too.
- In the spirit of honesty, things are hard right now. Depression is creeping back in, along with many other mental and physical issues that have my mind in a perpetual state of anxiety, stress, and "fight of flight" thought-mode. But I'm not letting Satan win, notfonna happen. I have a CHH mixtape to record, mix, and release for free digital download–I know the emotional downs will pass, as will soke physical things, even if they seem to get worse before better, because it's all a process, and I have no room for hate in my heart if I truly want health...which includes hate toward any part of my circumstances or journey.
No, I'm not BFFs with my infections, diagnoses, and general state of dis-ease; I don't like any of them one bit. But I also won't give them the energy it takes to proclaim my hatred, or even hold it in my heart–they don't deserve any of my energy, except that which is directed towards treatments, detoxing, and other related things...for health.
So, here we are, facing many potential treatment decisions and in limbo in many ways, but one thing we do know is that we can no longer afford to keep bartonella on the back burner, hoping I'll just be well enough to handle the treatment and herxing one day.
The reason I didn't keep up with my treatment updates with the first attempt at the Deseret Biologicals (DesBio) Series Therapy for Bartonella (pictured above), which went from March-November 2015, is because the series–and subsequent herxing–was so taxing for my body, my neurological system, psychiatrically/psychologically, and hit me hard in nearly every other area of life, most of which I can't think to type out right now.
But, it was so rough that we never got past being able to take 1 drop/1x a week. One drop from one vial PER WEEK. If you've read mine, or others', posts on these homeopathic series therapies, you may remember they're designed to be taken one vial at a time, every theee says (with the exception of a few that are a few drops suspended in water to be consumed over an entire day, or other such routes, but this full vial every 3 days is the basic rule for many of them), so the box will last a month, and ideally you'll go through two the fire box vials 1-10, strongest to weakest, and then repeat this with a second month and a second box, in the opposite order, 10-1.
Since we know bartonella is my biggest issue as far as the debilitating symptoms it causes, and the sheer variety and severity and widespread nature of those symptoms and results/flares from the infections and herxes make it the most daunting infection to tackle...but as I said, we can no longer afford, in any sense of the word, to ignore this infection any longer, regardless of any herxing I may endure.
Number one goal for now: endure whatever it takes from now until the time comes, and whatever I may endure after, for however long it maybe, as long as I can be well-functioning and fulfill my Matron of Honor duties for all of my sister's wedding festivities this June–claiming that success in prayer, even though it seems a far off goal for now. I'm trusting God to deliver on that, because I refuse for these dis-eases, which are of Satan himself, to take away being able to support my sister and enjoy all aspects of watching and helping her as she marries the man of her dreams, her perfect soulmate.
For now, look for what I hope will be regular, or at least semi-regular, updates on the treatment blog as I give this DesBio Bartonella series therapy another go. It's in Your hands, Father, please grant me the blessings of peace, hope, and endurance–without you, I have none of them and none of anything at all, so I ask for you help in the name of Jesus, for me, for my family, and for everyone who is fighting this war.
God bless each and every one of you out there fighting, don't give up, even when things are hard and seem impossible.
There's always hope.