12/10/11

My sister Julie’s wedding is Saturday and I’ve been thinking a lot about our relationship and how it’s evolved since Dad first introduced me to her in Mom’s hospital room. Julie was born on a Friday and she’ll be married on a Saturday; it’s kind of interesting how our lives our dictated by dates, days of the week, lunar and astrological calendars.

December 10th will now be a bullet point in our family’s history; this is very important because it seems as though a lot of our family’s past has been forgotten. I can’t recall the day my great-grandmother or grandfather died, (even though I was at his house just hours after he died; keep in mind that I was pretty young). I don't know the birth dates or marriage anniversary dates of late family members or even the date my Dad was in his horrific car accident when I was young.

Anyone who knows me understands that I’m very sentimental. I create an emotional connection to the smallest objects or the briefest sentences. If I remembered the exact day that my grandfather died I would most certainly take a moment to share a memory of him with my wife or say a small thank you for him in my mind. I didn’t know him very well, but I know my father respects him to the highest regard and if that’s the case then I know he was a great man.

Because our immediate family had a hard time with extended family, us five became very close (Mom, Dad, Julie, Jenni and I). But as we got older and I left for college we all became less and less involved in each other’s day-to-day lives. My youngest sister was still a young girl when I left for school so we didn’t have a chance to connect until just recently... as adults.

My whole point here is I want our immediate family to welcome new members in and never use the phrase “extended family.” I want to know more and more about Julie’s husband. He’s my new brother. The day I was married I got five new sisters and a little brother. I’m not always the best at keeping tabs on them but when I’m around I try to make it a point to talk about what’s going on in their lives; mind you these conversations are mostly with the older siblings. Facebook and phone texts are ok, but to really see them face-to-face and hear them speak is really a treat.

This Saturday I’ll hear my sister and my new brother say “I do,” and that will be one of the greatest treats in my life.

Small But Not Insignificant

After a long and well traveled Thanksgiving weekend, I’m in the first couple hours of work and I’m getting reacquainted with the monotony of office life.

At first I was sort of depressed, and to be perfectly clear, I won’t disagree with you that no matter how busy our office gets, every day generally repeats itself. That’s the nature of being a designer, staring at a computer, sitting, eating lunch twenty feet from my desk and listening to stories about crazy clients and “hot” projects.

After an hour at work I started to feel a little different. I found myself noticing little changes around me. The toilet paper roll in the bathroom was on backwards, my “special” red pen was just laying out on my desk, I was invited to the daily meeting for the “higher-ups.” I can read off a dozen small, seemingly insignificant changes.

My point is, although I feel that design has been falling off my radar in the last couple of years, it may help me on a day-to-day basis to notice and be grateful for the small things in life.

I haven’t had a full seizure since July (where I lose consciousness), only auras. The VNS seems to be doing it’s job. I’ve had a vocal outlet for some of my concerns and ideas beyond this blog and I know now that talking and writing is hitting the nail on the head for me emotionally. I also believe it’s helping me better communicate to doctors, co-workers, friends and family; even strangers.

The phrase for today is “the little things;” petting and holding a small pet, looking into my wife’s eyes, listening to my heart beat during the last few seconds before I slip into sleep. There are a lot of complicated words in life, but if I can simplify things as best as I can, I believe my head will clear and I can fight any depression, any anger, any uncertainties, and any illness.

Editing a Voice

"Those who know, do not speak. Those who speak, do not know."
-Lao Tzu

I've come across this quote today and I'm trying to find a way to apply it. I've been neglecting this blog because the right time to write hasn't been presenting itself.

I've been speaking my mind to those close to me and I feel as though they're presenting advice (great advice) without knowing several important details that it's hard for me to divulge.

Simply, my goal is to continue to write and try my best to edit my voice.

Boots and Blood

I, as do many (or all) people in the world take their fair share of hits. Yesterday I officially had my driver's license taken away because of the ill-control of my seizures. I haven't driven in months; actually it's more like a year, but I always had the little card in my pocket that defined me as a normal citizen that had the same rights as an average "everyday" person in the community.

Instead I got an Illinois State ID. This is basically used for buying alcohol or returning an item to a store. I'm traveling next week, so I'll need it for the airport security, but vacations like this hardly ever happen for me. I know this sounds like a miniature thing to be upset about but it hit me in just the right spot.

I've been having small seizures every now and then but the VNS seems to be taking care of them pretty well. My mood is improving, but like I said in earlier posts; it could be my new job, money, a sense of security, etc.

Yesterday night, after the whole ID thing and I got back from work, Sara and I went on a walk (we've been doing this more and more lately). I strapped on my new Dr. Marten boots, thinking the walk would help break them in.

As most of you know, I only wear Dr. Marten shoes and boots... the English made versions. There's so much I love about them; they have a romantic-type vibe... after a couple months the shoe becomes a part of the wearer. I've said in the past... I find myself looking at a new pair and wondering; "Where are these shoes going to take me? What will happen to me? What will I see? How will I feel?" It's sounds cheesy but I just love the thought of a footstep. Sometimes I'll walk around my building or work or wherever and I'll see one of my old footprints in the dirt or snow. What an amazing thing.

Anyway, I was walking with these new boots and like a lot of new shoes, especially Dr Martens, they hurt like hell the first couple of "wears." After a couple blocks around the neighborhood I felt a pop on my heal and could feel the hard leather cut into my skin. I walked through the pain knowing full well that I was bleeding pretty bad.

While this was happening a large storm was creeping into the area and it was getting darker and darker. We started walking faster... further cutting the leather into my heal. I wanted to take a mental picture of this moment. The pain, the storm. I felt so alive!!

We made it home just as it started pouring rain. I opened all the windows to cool down the apartment and as the stormy breeze filled the room I slowly removed the boot from my foot. My sock was full of blood and Sara got me a wipe and a bandage. I felt great... about the whole day... it was like I had a new life in just a few hours.

After my heal was taken care of I looked into the boot an noticed that the whole inside section on the boot's leather was soaked in blood. It was dark and.......... just beautiful. Those shoes took me somewhere yesterday and now I have proof. Did I think when I bought those boots that they would make me bleed... turning my mind away from the horrible thoughts that would enter my brain that day?

All of this sounds obtuse but it makes so much sense to me. The storm, boots, blood and pain. It felt a lot like life all wrapped up into an hour-and-a-half.

New Start

It's been over two months since my last entry. Since then I've gotten a new job, the VNS is working better and better each day and we're loosing up financially so Sara and I are able to think about the future a little more.

Let me just say that there were many dues that I had to pay for the positive wind that seems to be blowing in our direction. I will, without a doubt, dive into the details of the last couple months at some point but they're a little too fresh in my mind for me to really comprehend.

What I can say is that I'm feeling good about my new job although I'm adjusting to the added stress for which has caused an increase in seizures. What's nice is the VNS seems to be working... stopping or, at least, lightening the seizures. A "side effect" of the VNS is a lift in mood and overall quality of life; this seems to be the case so far. It could be just the changes outlined above but I'm guessing it's a little bit of both.

A New Kind of Post

Let me start by saying that I've had the best two weeks that I've had in a while – a long while, actually. By Friday night everything was just perfect; I was busy at work and feeling just great about how Sara's birthday turned out and remembering the snowstorm from the week before. Sadly, the bubble had to burst at some point. I won't detail any events but I will say (and I might've said this before) that there's always a lingering spot in my brain for awful, devastating thoughts and feelings. Every diagnosis from doctors, or anything that I'm beyond self-conscious about is thrown into this little box; add very strong neurological medications to the mix and they're compounded by massive percentages.

The "box" was opened temporarily... the bubble burst.

Over the last couple of years I've come to understand these feelings. When I think something abnormal I can tell that it's foreign and not really me. I've had an okay amount of strength; my temper has evened out and my emotions have been low, but not so low that I need professional help (in my opinion). A small amount of depression and inactivity comes with these meds and situation; I'm not making excuses but it is hard to drive myself and be productive. There's just not a lot of energy available.

The VNS was supposed to help dramatically. I think I might have been putting all my hope into this little machine. It does help with seizures, but they said it would improve mood and general quality of life. The last couple of weeks might've been it's powers creeping in, but so far I've been in the same slump that I've been in for months.

Interestingly, when I'm forced to open myself – or – the "box" up and all the horrible, negative, lonely, lost, devastating, feelings are released... there's this time, like now, where my mind is in neutral. I feel really positive, not guarded and I'm willing to be myself and have a deep conversation without fear of the "box" flying open, again.

I told Sara that we need to talk every week about ourselves and where we're at – not work related, just us on a personal level. We need to communicate. I keep 99% of my feelings away from her because I don't want her to think I'm sick or disturbed, but when she finally sees them it can be a shock. Frankly, she's probably offended that I'm not opening myself up to the strongest and closest person I have in my life.

Snowed In

After my last post I could tell that I needed a change. That change came in the form of a massive snow storm that took Sara and I out of work for two days. I have to say that those days were the best of 2011, so far. There was a buzz in the air all day on Tuesday before the storm. For instance: the grocery store was completely bare of any items because worried shoppers bought up enough food and water and salt and, and, and, and... like they were planning for a nuclear holocaust; salt trucks were racing around like mad; the news was ALL about the storm. Every channel was warning people to stay home and "hunker down." I was so excited; a very welcome break from monotony.

When the storm hit I was driven home from work early by my boss; we could barely see in front of us by the time we neared my apartment. Amazing.

Sara and I planned, too. We bought things to eat and movies to watch. Every hour we were peeking our heads out the door and windows to see how much had fallen. We heard plows and snow blowers and the wind swirling while snow piled up outside our door and window ledges. After it was all over, we found the ONE shovel in our complex and started to dig out. We were so full of snow and sweat from digging and digging... it was so wonderful.

The day back to work was Friday, which was a breeze and then we were off to the weekend. It was an unplanned vacation that had to be brought down from god or something. I smiled the whole week.

Saturday night I had a very small seizure at the grocery store. It's kind of embarrassing when I have to throw all of my "goods" onto a shelf so I can retrieve the magnate from inside my pocket, then lean on a cooler while waiting for the seizure to end. After it was over I was tired and I had the same warm, calm feeling that one gets after a good cry; my body and brain were recovering.

Afterwards, Sara drove me home and made pigs in a blanket (hot dogs in croissants) and mac n' cheese while I leaned my head back on the couch. Even after the seizure, I had the same smile on my face that I did all week.

My Dad always talks about life as being an adventure. He'd say, "The trip to Cleveland for a routine check on a client was worth it because it was an adventure." "The snow was coming down fast and the snow-blower broke down." "Your sister and Sara needed a ride home at two in the morning." "I finally found a way to stop water from leaking into the basement!" For him those are new experiences, new challenges... new adventures.

What I needed was an adventure; last week I got one.