Braised Lambchop About Me

About Me

Born in El Reno, Oklahoma = fifth generation Oklahoman (great-great grandparents moved to Oklahoma Territory in 1890)

El Reno High School = valedictorian, National Merit Scholar

University of Oklahoma, Norman = finance major; Alumni Scholar, Dean's Honor Roll

Henderson State University, Arkadelphia, Arkansas = nursing major, Dean's Honor Roll

And from there it was all downhill.....

No, not really. I just didn't take the same road most National Merit Scholars take. I messed around a lot, and couldn't quite decide what I wanted to be when I grew up. Eventually I finished my education, but I still don't think I've decided what I want to be.

I started nursing school when my son was eight weeks old, gave birth to my daughter during my psych rotation, and finished on time. When I was in school my husband traveled, and was out of town three days (and nights) a week, so I had to take care of two kids in diapers and go to school. I remember getting up at 0400, getting dressed and getting my children up, getting them to daycare by 0615, being on the floor at 0645, all day at clinical, going home and working on those damn care plans until 0445, picking kids up from daycare, feeding/playing/bathing/playing/putting kids to bed until 2100, then more homework and damn care plans until 2300, when I'd collapse and get my five hours of sleep - if I was lucky and the youngest didn't wake up during the night. I don't know how I did it. Four years later, I started paying for it, and for a lot of other things I'd kept bottled up.

In 1994 I developed ulcerative colitis, which is inflammatory bowel disease affecting the large intestine. When my kids were small I was so sick that I'd go to work and come home and go to bed. That was my life - I was losing about 300cc of blood every day. One day I counted the number of bathroom trips I made after lunch: seventeen trips in three hours, with nothing but blood coming out. (It's called tenesmus by physicians, but a better name is 'dry heaves of the rectum.' If you've ever had a hangover and had dry heaves, it's exactly like that only at the other end.) I got very sick very quickly, and three years later I had to have my large bowel removed. Since that two-part series of operations, I've had three more through the same vertical incision due to complications and other conditions. I'm in constant pain, although the fentanyl patches and lozenges I take help me get out of bed.

Here's my PSA for my two favorite causes: the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America, and the United Ostomy Association. Help UOA help one who cannot cope with the ostomy that could save his or her life. And help CCFA find a cure for UC, so no other children have to suffer as mine did while their mom was so sick.

My son is now 17 and my daughter is 15. They are both terrific kids who are interested in many things. My son likes to argue with me about politics and current events (he spends too much time with his dad), and my daughter is still pretty much attached to my hip, even at her age. She thinks Mom rocks, and I count my blessings every day that she's still my fan instead of thinking of me as the enemy. I have two not-so-little black kitties, named Tom and Jerry, who are brothers and act like it - fighting one minute and hugging each other the next. They have been great company on long days when the kids are at school and my belly hurts. This winter, a little Siamese kitten showed up at our door, freezing, hungry and alone, looking for a family to adopt. It's very bad luck to turn down an adoption offer from a hungry kitten. So after we spent a few weeks learning to trust each other - so we could get him to the vet to have his shots and be neutered - the little kitten has comfortably settled into our back porch. He's not an indoor kitty yet, because he can't quite bring himself to conquering his fear of being shut inside. On the other hand, he seems more afraid of thunder than the indoors, so every thunderstorm brings him one step closer to permanent housecat status.

My husband is my soft place to fall. He's been very patient and has taken excellent care of me while I've been sick and in pain. He dutifully takes me to every doctor and dentist appointment (the medication rotted half my teeth, so I have many, many crowns - as if the belly pain wasn't enough), and has given up so much so I can be as comfortable as he can make me. We recently bought 60 acres of land in the next county east of here, and in a few years we can finally build the house we've both always wanted; that dream is now on hold because of my illness, and it's entirely possible we'll have to sell the land to finance my medical treatment. I'm doing everything I can to prevent that - John has given up so much for me already, and I don't think I could bear it if he had to give up his farm too.

We are two very different people - he's outgoing and friendly while I'm more introspective, and we have spirited discussions about politics and social issues. Sometimes we get frustrated with each other - that's inevitable when two strong people with strong opinions live together. It doesn't matter. We belong with each other. He'll never see this, because he doesn't read a lot of non-work related material or sites. Nonetheless, I love him and can't imagine my life without him. This is our twenty-first year together, and the nineteenth year of our marriage.

My relationship with my own mom and dad is great. They are both in good health and are active, but I wish I could see them more often. I'm very lucky because there's nothing left unsaid between us - each of us know how much the others mean to them. All my grandparents are gone now, but my dad's mother was my best friend and I miss her every day. She's been gone for eleven years and I've felt every one of them. At night, when I'm tired and in pain, I still talk to my G-ma. She would have loved my little girl. My brother, with whom I've always been very close, now lives in the house where we grew up, and helps me when he can; he went through a terrible experience around the time I first got sick (and yes, I think his experience and the onset of my illness are related) that changed him. Every time I talk with him, which fortunately is pretty often, I'm reminded what he lost. He's so different. I don't get to see him but about twice a year now, although we talk at least twice a week, and I miss him and love him very much.

When I'm not sick in bed I read a lot, and listen to music, and on the very good days I love to play golf. I learned how to play golf about seven years ago. I wish I'd learned when I was a child, but golf in my hometown was restricted to those who could afford to belong to the country club. Until recently, I was fortunate enough to belong to the country club where I live, so my son and daughter could play at a very good course, but since we're now on the way to Mayo we've had to make some cuts, and the country club was the first to go. Golf was already expensive, before it experienced a popularity boom in the late 1990s courtesy of Tiger Woods (and every parent wanting their child to be the next Tiger Woods), but even public courses are becoming too expensive for middle-class folks. That's too bad, because golf is a sport a child can enjoy throughout her life, unlike gymnastics or soccer or football. Hopefully when Mayo has finished with me we'll recover enough financially to be able to join a club again, but we'll probably put that money into building a new home instead.

I live and die with the Oklahoma Sooners. I was there when they weren't winning, and I'll be there until I'm Sooner-dead. My least favorite color is orange. Orange - in all its 'burnt' and 'power' incarnations - sucks. I'm starting to get angry just thinking about orange. Grrr.

And this is my forty-first year on Earth. I went through my 'midlife crisis' when I turned 30, because I started chasing the years of my life, and I got the feeling I was wasting away. I had this tremendous sense of underachievement, that I hadn't lived up to my abilities, that I didn't amount to anything after such promise. But a life-threatening illness puts things in a different light, and I stopped holding my housekeeping standards up to those of my mother-in-law, and stopped holding my career standards up to those of an old college roommate (now a lawyer, who couldn't even tell me the truth about why she wouldn't attend our wedding), and decided that who I am is what I can do. I'm just glad to be alive, and my goals now are to be Mom, and wife, and daughter, and sister, and Mamacat to my kitties. That's what my life is to be, and I can't imagine anything more wonderful or satisfying.

And that's pretty much everything about me.

[ Print This Page ] [ Email This Page ]