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Tales of . . .

~ Ramblings of my life and workings of my imagination

Tales of . . .

Tag Archives: Health

hello out there

18 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by merrywriter23 in Choices, COVID-19, Daily Grind, Depression, Family, Friends, Health, loss, Musings, Supportive, Teaching our children

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family, feelings, Happy, Health, Home, relationships, sad, Thoughts

hope everyone is well, safe, and staying home
it’s been a while since I have done any writing
months, in fact
hard to think about writing lately
i am proud of many people in this current situation
people lending a helping hand
using their skills to make things better
but i am sickened by those who think the rules don’t apply to them
please be one of the helpers
wave to people and give them hope
i wish i could say the virus only kills the bad people
but we know that’s not how life works
i just hope all my friends and family stay safe

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tired…

01 Sunday Dec 2019

Posted by merrywriter23 in #AmWriting, #IndieAuthor, Choices, Daily Grind, Decisions, Depression, Family, Friends, Just for fun, Mental Health, Mother, Musings, New England, New House, Sleep Disorder, Supportive, Writing

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Blog, family, feelings, friends, fun, Happy, Health, Home, journal, Life, Novel, sad, Thoughts, writing

I’m getting either lazy or frustrated with posting every day. My apologies. Too much packing. High anxiety. And battling lack of sleep. I feel lost and alone even though I know there are people around who can help. I just hate to ask. They have lives too! Far be it from me to take them away from their responsibilities to help with the mess that is my life.

I cannot wait to get out of this house now. I want to wave my magic wand and make it all happen today. I want to be in the other house, sleeping in a bed, and unpacked. I want to be settled.

Thanksgiving went fine except that I missed Mom terribly. I cried. I just could not prevent it. I still feel very sad. I miss talking to her. I miss just knowing she was there.

Anyway, life goes on and so must I. Even when I feel like I have no strength left. I must push forward.

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Service Dog

16 Saturday Nov 2019

Posted by merrywriter23 in Choices, Decisions, Depression, Family, Friends, Fund Raiser, Mental Health, Musings, New England, Service Dog, Teaching our children

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family, feelings, Happy, Health, journal, relationships, sad, Service Dog, Thoughts

Service Dog Go Fund Me Page

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My daughter suffers from PTSD, social anxiety and generalized depression. We are in search of a service dog to mitigate her symptoms. We found a trained service dog but it is costly. Please consider a donation no matter how small.

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Tomorrow came too late

02 Saturday Nov 2019

Posted by merrywriter23 in #AmWriting, #IndieAuthor, Aging, Body Image, Choices, Daily Grind, Decisions, Family, Health, Mental Health, Mother, Musings, Writing

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Blog, family, feelings, friends, Health, journal, Life, relationships, Religion, Thoughts

If time travel were possible, I know to what time I’d return. At least one point in time. There are circumstances I would not like to visit again. Who wants to go through their teenage years, or the death of loved ones again? Well, that second one…

Let me tell you about Mom. Rose Marie was a beautiful soul. I didn’t realize how beautiful until I was diagnosed with AML (acute myeloid leukemia). In 1986, less than a year after college graduation, I went to visit my primary care physician who sent me for blood work. That Saturday, Mom traveled to New Haven to take part in As Schools Match Wits (or something like that, I can’t remember) with her high school students. My father took me to the doctor.

I knew something was bad. What doctor tells you to come in on a Saturday? My father and I sat in the office, side by side. He and I had not been close. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t been the greatest daughter.

Doctor Gil asked if I had medical insurance. Another reason for me to be scared.

“I think you have leukemia.”

I let that sink in.

I thought about my Mom and how much I wished she had been sitting next to me instead of my father.

I don’t remember much else from the conversation. Only that I needed to be admitted to the hospital as soon as possible.

On the drive home, I began to cry. My father said something about not wanting to cry because I hadn’t been. We called Mom. I told her not to rush home, finish what she was doing. I was being admitted Sunday morning.

Sunday night, I was at St. Francis. I had to go to the bathroom, but it was very late, and I didn’t want to bother anyone. I got up and dragged the IV pole along with me.

I remember feeling faint and trying to sit. The next thing I know, I am back in bed with medical staff surrounding me. I had a bedpan beneath me and was warned never to get up without help again.

The following morning, I called Mom. I knew she’d be coming to see me.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I explained. When I had fallen, my face hit the leg of the IV pole, and I had a black eye. Luckily my eye itself was not injured. I hit my knee on the floor and the bruise would remain there for months to come.

My diagnosis was confirmed on Monday, St. Patrick’s Day. Since then every St. Patrick’s Day is a celebration of my recovery.

Mom visited me every day. Sometimes in the morning, sometimes after school, sometimes both. But definitely every single day from March 16th to June 19th, when I insisted they let me go home for my birthday.

During my stay I had many caring nurses, interns, caregivers, etc. My mother became a fixture on the floor. She stopped asking the staff for things and got them for me herself. If I needed something to eat or drink, if I needed to be washed up, anything I needed, she got for me.

I know she prayed for me.

At one point, after being stuck, poked, and prodded, I looked up at my mother and said, “I can’t fight anymore.”

She didn’t break down in tears the way some would have. She held my hand tight and told me I had to fight. She was the reason I survived.

Even after my three months stay, I wasn’t done with treatment. I was in remission yet in order for the doctors to be sure the AML wouldn’t come back I had two choices. Bone marrow transplant or continued chemo.

I opted for the later.

Six more months of barfing, battling infections, losing my hair, and going through all the other side effects, took its toll on me.

I remember Mom washing my hair in the kitchen sink and clumps would come out in her hands. That was harder on her then it was on me.

Yet she never, not once that I can remember, cried in front of me. Perhaps she did once she got home and was alone.

I know my father did. My mother actually sent him out of the room when he cried. I could hear her in the hall telling him he was not allowed to cry in front of me.

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Sometimes

11 Tuesday Jun 2019

Posted by merrywriter23 in #AmWriting, #IndieAuthor, Author, Body Image, Bullying, Choices, Daily Grind, Dating, Decisions, Depression, Family, Indie Author, Mental Health, Musings, Silence, Sleep Disorder, Supportive, Teaching our children, Writing

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Blog, family, feelings, Health, journal, Life, quotes, relationships, sad, Thoughts, Women

It’s not one thing
It’s everything
That makes me…
giphy (8)

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Ramblings

02 Sunday Jun 2019

Posted by merrywriter23 in #AmWriting, #IndieAuthor, Author, Books, Bullying, Choices, Decisions, Depression, Family, Friends, Health, Just for fun, Mental Health, Musings, Supportive, Writing

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family, feelings, Happy, Health, journal, Life, relationships, sad, Thoughts, writing

My life is a roller coaster, probably a lot like yours. Some days are up, others are down, and some are a little of both. Maybe the spinning of the Earth is at fault. They say the phases of the moon can affect a person’s mood. I’m sure of that. Or at least some outside force plays havoc with my emotions.

I hate that I can feel alone with people in the room. I despise loneliness. But I’d rather be alone than with a person who causes me pain. I’m easily influenced by another’s moods. Is that empathy or sympathy. I can never distinguish.

Living on a roller coaster is hard enough. But when the person you live with is also on a crazy ride, well that’s just disturbing. Especially when you’re empathetic. It’s like you have two sets of emotions that argue with each other. “I’m more depressed than you!” “I’m happy, why are you not?”

Well, enough ranting…

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Welcome

Tales of... is my blog mostly about my writing, self-publishing, and eBooks. I may post other items from time to time about the daily minutia of life and interesting topics. Enjoy the ride. Email me at mary-ellen@merrywriter-talesof.com

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© Tales of... 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to MerryWriter23, Mary-ellen DeLeon, and Tales of... with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
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