To think I spent more than half my life standing up for fools like you. Disgusting.

I started to write about all she’s done for me, but suffice it to say she’s been there for me, a lot. My grown-up self can now look back and say I’ve been there for her a lot, too, and as of this week, we’re even. Maybe forever.

My mother hugged her and cried, asking forgiveness for something every single one of us agree she should have and HAD to do, and this particular relative didn’t so much as twitch. My mother. Cried. And this… God, how I pause at this point. Do I say angry? Bitter? Hateful? When at the same time, my heart tells me she’s a loving person, and I know this because her life has been about helping wounded people. Nonetheless, she didn’t acknowledge how much pain my mother was in, and how she was practically begging for forgiveness over this imagined sin, and that, to coin a Southern phrase, just FLEW ALL OVER ME. (I don’t care where the phrase originated from; the South’s where I grew up hearing it.)

My mom stepped out of the room and I let loose with both barrels. God, I was so furious that I was shaking, and I could feel the flushing starting on my chest and going all the way up to my temples. I blasted her with this great righteous indignation, full of thunder that my beloved mom had been hurt.

I spent the night tossing and turning. At 3am I was looking at the clock, saying “God, what did I do? What did I do? How could I say that?” I haven’t seen her since, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. A big part of me says that I’m done, completely. She’s been hateful and horrible and bitter and beyond the most nightmarish of people that you could ever want to be around, and right now I feel like a gigantic ass, because I could have been more compassionate. Damn it. I could never, ever hate her, and will always love her, but right now.. I don’t think we like each other very much.

(Note to self: No, really, jackass?)

There’s no contest between my mother and any other female in this world. None. I love her with every fiber of my being, and will do everything I can to protect her from harm. I am so blessed. So very blessed.

It will probably not last long, but there is a tiny spark of hope within me.

I am 5 days late.

Please, God. Please.

Also, I feel…not well.

I think I’m beginning to have symptoms. I thought I’d have at least another year (or three) before all this started, but…I think…not. I felt poorly about a month ago, and even went so far as to make an appt with my heart doc (Dr. Awesome, whom I adore and treasure), but then it ended up feeling more like reflux. Yeah, yeah, I know - but trust me, this *did* end up being reflux, so I cancelled the appt. This was supposed to be better, though, right? I mean, the tests showed my valve was actually looking better than before, so I was able to go from every 6 month appointments to yearly appointments. Yay, right?

Sigh.

Why now? Please, please, please, not now. Not with a brand new job that I need to succeed at. Not when I have precious little leave time, thanks to the horrendous Bronchitis Bout of 2009™. Not when someone I love is very, very ill, and I may not have them for much longer. Please, not now. I need to get my life in order, get my house all organized and cleaned (all at the same time, for ONCE in my life), get meals cooked/assembled and frozen, get this @#$!@ house situation cleared up, get moved if we need to and do a freakin’ million other things. I don’t have time for heart surgery! I can’t take 6 week off!

I can’t give up…ever being able to have a child.

God, please fix me.

Please. Really, this time. I’m begging you.

I got an iPhone, and I am OMG HAPPY. It is surgically attached to my hand, and I don’t know how I lived without it. I am CRAZY over this phone. Just stupid happy, really. My gosh, you can do just about ANYTHING with it - hence my use of ALL CAPS, y’know?

Off to the library. Reading No Excuses by Wayne Dyer, and he mentioned a great book by Bruce Lipton - something about Belief and Biology, or near that. They have it, and I’m going to read it tonight. Yay!

Wrong.

Oh, oh, so wrong.

Listening to 100 Years by Five For Fighting (on my sparkly new gorgeous OMG I love it to pieces iPhone).

Spent yesterday morning in the ER with yet another SVT attack. This one was the worst, by far. I awoke with actual pain at the base of my throat, and by the time I got to the ER (10 minutes, because my husband was hauling tush), my entire lower jawbone was throbbing. I was scared to death and crying…the first time I’ve ever done that with this. The Adenosine was painful, as always, and seemed to affect me for longer than it usually does. Last time, they had to go with 2 doses (6mg, then either a 6 or a 12mg the second time). This time, he (doc) went right for the 12mg, and it felt like my world was ending. The nurses were awesome, as always, and the doc was cool. I had issues afterwards with why I wasn’t on BP checks afterward, because it can make my BP tank, but at that point, I was too out of it to ponder this question. I was just glad to be alive. Eff, that scared me.

If a heart attack is anything… anything at all like that, and I’m quite sure it’s 1000 times worse, then that scares me senseless.

I can feel the anxiety starting again. I feel like I could go cry in the shower for a good hour. Why am I doing this to myself?

I’m going to die before my parents. Before my husband. Before my damn cat.

I just know it.

I am so freakin’ sick. OMG.

I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning, and this will make the first time I’ve ever missed a full week of work because of being sick. (I mean other than scheduled, vacation-esque things.)

I am hacking so bad I can barely talk, and my throat feels like a flaming, gushing hoard of lava (HA! I first wrote “Horde”. If you play WoW, you’ll find that funny.) Anyway.. oh yes, gushing hoard of lava demons is slip-sliding away along my tonsils. My ears are so stopped up and I worry that I’ve been deafening people because I can barely hear myself - though… now that I think about it, I can barely talk above a whisper so WTH am I worried about? Have I mentioned that I just took my first dose of that great c0deine cough syrup stuff that I hear so much about? (pun) - Seriously.. I must have given it to people at least a few hundred times, but tonight’s my first experience with it, and I am just about cross-eyed. Please, God, let me get some sleep tonight.

New puter? Check.

Finally home with the Mister, whom I adore? Check.

Abigail doing better? Check.

Parents doing OK? Check.

Wow.. I am rambling. GOing to check this tomorrow, when I’m hopefully not on narc0tics. Or whatever.

On a side note that is probably only funny to myself, Mister, and the handful of gamers we hang with, I have decided that my diagnosis is ASS, because that’s what I feel like. Ass. In leet-speak, it’d be ICD-9 Code 455.00. HAH!

Oh, hell.. what is that code, for real?

OMGROTFL!! It’s hemorrhoids! LMAO!

Dear God, lemme go to bed before I laugh myself into an ashtma attack. Ashtma. @#$!@#$ asthma. There you go. Hah. KNew i could do it.

Code1ne sucks.

• My last cardiologist’s appointment actually showed improvement in my heart condition (congenital). After many years of seeing him every 6 months, I’m now going to be seeing him only once per year. YAY ME! This is wonderful news, meaning my impending and mandatory surgery is most likely much further off then we previously thought. He says the increase in my SVT is most likely due to my not drinking enough (true), and my anxiety not being well-controlled (truetruetrue), so, we made a few changes, and I promised my heart out (Hah! Pun!) that I would drink more water.
• Abigai1 is doing so much better. The lax ligaments in her hind quarters actually seem to be better. She’s not so splay-legged now, and can actually walk on the kitchen floor. My sweetie!
• A health concern I’ve known about for a year is now better, as well, due completely to my actually beginning to take it seriously, instead of dog-paddling the river of Denial. Medication helps, but attitude helps, too.
• I’m at my folk’s house, and having a blast. I have the greatest parents of all time. I am so lucky God blessed me with them.
• The situation with the Ginormous Government Entity (AKA the Huge Pain in My Arse) seems to be coming along, as well. A little while longer, and it’ll be completely cleared up, and Lord, let me tell you right now, I’ll never get into this situation again.
• Car seems to be running well. Transmission problems (AGAIN) were fixed, and 3 new tires were purchased. Whew. (I know, I know, but I only needed three. Just go with it.)
• The owners of our home want us to either buy or move in 6 months. I think we’ll be moving. I’m so not looking forward to this, but if it gets us somewhere cheaper, then so be it. Mister is going to shriek if he can’t have a garage and a fenced-in yard.

More later. New PC to play with. Fast Tri-Core processor, 4G Ram, 500G HD & a kickin’ video card - $200 at a repo auction. Comes w/ Vista & MS Office 2k7. w00t.

Ohhh, yes. I almost forgot. Mother bought a Snuggie™ last night. I laughed, but 10 minutes ago, when I was sitting on the couch, freezing, I slipped it on. Much to my chagrin, I am warm.

Don’t tell anyone.

Mister: *hack*

Mister: *wriggle* *moan* *rolls over* *groans* *hack* *cough*

Taz: *smacking noise* *wriggle* *wrigglewriggle* *flop* *groan*

Bless their hearts. That’s about all I can say, because my man, he is sick, and not just with the man-flu. (OK, I admit it. In his words, as well as mine, he feels like ass. In fact, yesterday he was sitting down, looking like he felt just horrid, and I looked over and said “Ass?” He replied “Yeah.”

Now see, for us, that’s funny as heck. An entire conversation in just two words, and nothing more needed to be said. My poor darling. I hate that he feels, well…. like ass.

The Book of Eli turned out nicely. I do enjoy Denzel Washington. The man can act, and he’s handsome, to boot. Why can’t he run for president? Oh, wait.. because he doesn’t have decent political experience, and he’s a good actor? Well heck! Apparently that’s all you need to get elected these days. Bleargh. Whatever. I joined a FB group along with lines of “I hate it when I get up in the m0rning and 0bama is president.” Again with the bleargh.

Argh. I would love to go see Legion, but must save money. Phooey. Will do next week.

Started back on the hand-written journal a few nights ago. (Dear God, I actually just wrote “a few night’s ago” - WTH is wrong with me?) I have always adored writing somewhat like the journal reads in that Bridget Jones movie. Y’know, all “am v. displeased with weight. Hair vile today. Must have this bushy shag snipped soonest.”

No, seriously…I tend to be more real, I suppose. I don’t know why. There’s a much bigger chance of someone finding my actual journal than this site, and no, it’s not because I’m a complete dolt and think all this is OMG private; it’s because Mister couldn’t be arsed to look for it, and that’s not a bad thing. I don’t say anything in either one that I wouldn’t say to him, so…meh.

Taz is snuggled beside me, curled up in a white blanket older than I am. Abigai1’s on her bed, snuggled up in a pink blanket, again, older than I am. What is up with my natty blankets? Ah well, they’re in good shape, and they belong to the dogs.

God, I’ve written about nothing, haven’t I? Blathered on incessantly about essentially random stuff, which I hate to read, but apparently tend to write.

Mom’s out of the hospital - thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Please keep her safe.

Dad’s feeling much better - thank you again, God. Thanks so much, because he felt truly wretched for several days, and is only now able to eat with some semblance of normalcy. Poor thing. =(

My aunt’s doing well in rehab. She broke her hip, and I still can’t believe it. Please be with her, Lord. I do love her dearly.

My other grandmother seems to be doing well with her hip replacement. I’m not close to her (and it’s her own doing), but I am glad she’s not in any pain.

Lord, please be with all those folks in Haiti. I know folks say there’s a purpose for everything, but I sure don’t understand what it is for that awful, awful tragedy.

Time for Mister’s cough syrup. (Thank you, codeine!)

Night!

Mister’s in the bed, because he stayed up wayyyyy too late/early playing the Star Trek Online beta. Yes, I’m playing it too, but I scampered off to bed around 1am, then spent the next 1.5 hours finishing Fallen.

Hmm…

It’s gorgeous outside. I’m thinking I’ll go wake the hubby, get dressed, take us to brunch at Le Peep, then go see the Book of Eli.

Later!