Last Day on the Island

I belong on the ocean, walking in the surf, finding shells and hopping over jellies.  So many "we're hiring" signs... If the children were old enough to ride the train alone to visit their father perhaps...but not yet.  There are wave hazard signs here like we have burning signs.  There are tsunami evacuation route signs along the west coast of the island.  We weaved through valleys as mountains rose up around us.  Ocean on one side, freshwater rivers on the other.  There were a few spots that reminded me of Muskoka in the Summer, but never for long.

At the beach, I kept wondering if I would run into someone from my past, many people seemed to have one or two features in common with my friend Alan, I suppose though, you see what you want to see.  I imagined greeting him with a hug, but realized I was desiring something that was not in my reality, and my reality at the moment was freakin' awesome as is.

Tacofino.

Love songs made-up on the spot by my kiddos as they dance around me.  "I love you mommy, I love you mommy, you are awesomeness"

Sunsets on secluded lakes brimmed with jagged hills.

Avalanche discussions.  Road farts (rumble strips).

Longer rides home then there.  Sibling stories.

Piper's Lagoon; tide pools,baby crabs, slimy smooth rocks, jagged climbing paths and beautiful barnacle scarred drift wood. Little fingers collecting crabs in empty shells, squeals and giggles as they get loose and scuttle away. Little people holding grimy hands, dirt streaked faces, wet pant cuffs and pockets full of treasures.

Scrub Jays and Peaceful Ways

Scrub Jays.  Today I saw Scrub Jays (actually Steller's Jays scrub Jay being my childhood nick name for them) Since I was Jack's age, I would open my National Geographic North American wildlife book, open it to the "Jay" pages and read.  I would draw them incessantly, promising myself I would see all three.  I grew up around Blue Jays, my first Grey Jay I saw with Scott and the kids on a hike.  Today, in Nanaimo, I saw my first Scrub Jays.  Another bucket wish list checked.

Walked downtown Nanaimo, probably in the most round about way possible.  The snacks I packed were left behind by Jack, so saving money like I planned, is not happening.  We found Lois Lane, and ventured into a comic shop there.  That is where they spent Nana Hill's souvenir money :).  Waiting to eat is not going to stop the fact that I need to spend money on eating. We just got to a park that Jooniper has renamed the Awesomeness Park, and I'm totally hungry.  It's amazing how things can suddenly look up after getting a few carbs and protein into you.  We shared a single fish and chip basket.  Yep, I had fish.  I craved it, I was on the seaside and I needed quick protein.  It was great, and the perfect amount of fries.  My kids finished them and felt full.  All three of us fed for $11.00.  Not bad.

I held a sea star in my hand.  It was deep red with white speckles.  We counted them clinging to the rocks and docks.  A 3 inch jelly fish undulated by, the first live one we've seen so far.

The neighbours were arguing last night, it brought back many awful memories and moments I am not proud of.  Why did I stay and fight?  Why did I argue for hours to prove that my feelings were valid and important?  Why did I base my self worth on his opinion?  So many hours I spent trying to make up with him that I should have been spending with my children... I can't go back, so now is the time to model compassion and understanding for my children, to prove to them that their feelings are important.  We can live a peaceful life again.

My cousin is home today, I wonder what adventure we will embark on together?

The blood moon approaches.  Red eclipse Super moon and I am at a park with my babies.  I dreamt about this week's ago.  In my dream the moon blew to pieces, the ocean stopped moving and we all knew it was over.  Strangely enough, when it happened we were watching from a park.  This was the dream in which my male partner for once was not Scott, it was a man I haven't met yet.  Though it was the end of the world, the dream gave me hope.   When I had this dream I was probably subconsciously aware a lunar eclipse was coming, (flashing by on Facebook) but this scene I'm in at this park is creepy, it is so alike this dream.

I suppose I should be meditating, though writing is like a meditation of sorts for me.  Maybe if I hold some prayer beads in my hands... As always the kids are making friends and running around with eachother.  I really wish this thing could capture what I see.

Hastings and Main, so many tense and sad people.  So many people walking by as if nothing was out of order.  I understand that we have to accept what we cannot change (that does not mean that we should not try to end homelessness, but to accept that at that very moment you will not be able to
house and take care of every person on the street) but it is so hard to watch that hardening  take place.

The kids have been an amazing help with the transit system.  They are such good sports and navigators.  I really hope that this will help them gain confidence and a love of travel.

Said goodbye to Mike and Vancouver city.  Though there were some very cool aspects of Commercial Street and Stanley Park that I would like to explore further, it was just a bit too fast paced for me.

I took the Ferry to Nanaimo, and not even a hint of nausea.  I was wearing Sea bands and took Gravol but the water was calm and the ferry was so large, I'm not sure how much I needed either treatment.  I saw orcas from afar, and a panoramic view of the mountains, just breath taking.

My cousin's home is welcoming, I enjoyed making dinner with her while our kids played at the park together.  We sat at a table and ate dinner.  I have missed this.  Tomorrow we shall explore Nanaimo and look for haunted sites, which is one of my favourite ways to learn local history with the kids.

The morning was a blur of sky trains and buses.  Quick showers, iPad reconnections Facebook reunions.  I couldn't settle.  Old fears emerged.  My brain played out negative scenarios while I planned escape routes.  My goodness I have work to do.  It's amazing how shy one can feel around someone they had known so intimately over a decade before.  Skype and Facebook messages over a month and a half, haven't made it easy for me to meet his eyes for long periods of time.  I feel like we are starting all over again, but my heart is so guarded.  I feel my chest muscles tighten like I'm crossing my arms in front of me.  This is not how I saw things playing out.  I keep thinking that this is weakness,  but one should not force open the bud of a young flower, but marvel in the beauty of it's pedals unfolding.

Three Days Until The Adventure Begins

I bounce between a feeling of pure excitement and that of anxiety... I really dislike bus stations, waiting in lines etc.  Since travelling strapped into a seat for hours and hours was a normal part of my childhood, the bus travel feels just fine.  My children have always been great travellers as well.  However, living in a small town for the last 10 years (already?) has re-sensitized me to the big city bustle.  I will need to remember to breath, and see the anxiety as excitement.  After all it's not an adventure if there isn't an element of challenge and risk (even if that risk is simply not being able to find the bus terminal right away).

As part of our home education, my little bug and buddy will be blogging their experiences on here as well.

Bug: I'll never forget these awesome experiences. I'm  looking forward to traveling with my family and seeing new places.

Buddy: I want to go to Stanley park.  I want to run around and play tag.  Fun is what I am.

I'm trying to leave the house tidy for the tenant moving in the day we leave for our trip. It has been a challenge, there will be the inevitable fridge clean-out and remaining fruit and veggie dinners.  Garbage cans with food emptied and searching the kids room for that one bowl that seems to have gone missing...again.  Normally this would feel like a chore, but not now.  Every step is a reminder of how much closer we are to our adventure.  Thank you to everyone who has given us support As we step into this journey.  More pictures and posts to come!

Frustration

Over a year has passed since I initially became sick.  No diagnosis yet. I am sleeping 12-14 hours a day to get maybe 4 hours of activity which includes a lot of sitting down, walking with a cane or shopping in my wheelchair.  I noticed that I had a sliver that turned into a freckle on my finger tip, Nurse Practitioner told me to make an appointment if it got bigger, then I noticed when I removed my nail polish that the same splinter like marks are under one of my nails.  So I looked it up on google.  Now before anyone *eye rolls*. Let me assure you that as a medical advocate, I know the difference between reliable and unreliable web resources, I also own medical textbooks with which I cross reference my Internet findings.  The markings are identical to splinter hemorrhagesas sign of severe cardiovascular disease, unless you have received trauma to that area recently, which I have not.  Now, had I not been experiencing extreme fatigue, tremors, weakness, shortness of breath, chest pain, among many other symptoms for over a year I simply would have shrugged it off, however taking into account that I have no diagnosis and we have not investigated my cardiovascular system as a possible culprit, I decided that it would be important to show these markings to my Nurse practitioner as quickly as possible.

This is what happened:  I didn't get her, I got a student. Who promptly told me my red rash was not a concern.  "What red rash?" I asked him.  I pointed to the "slivers" under my nail, which I had already told him was my concern.  "We look for infection, or strange growth, these are fine." he told me in a very patronizing way.  He gave me the same neuro exam I get every time, listens to me breath a briefly listens to my heart, asks about my chest pains. I explain them to him.  He takes my blood pressure and says it is good (this is important to note for later). Here's the deal, we are both bias.  I am bias in that I have been dealing with the medical system for 8 years as both patient and patient
advocate.  I have watched many a Dr and nurse overlook things out of being too busy, too
inexperienced, too arrogant or all three.  I have watched life threatening complications arise from these mistakes, the good nurses and doctors recognize explain and apologize for their oversights.  Some lack the ability to realize that there was
an oversight, or the strength of character to admit it.  This student has dealt with patients who no doubt have freaked themselves out by going to numerous healthboards and other unreliable sources of information, he wants to help people with real health problems not waste time on ones prediagnosed by Wikipedia.  I knew this by his patronizing manner.  I would not be an active participant in this medical appointment, he would push on me what he thought, he would report to my nurse Practioner how the slivers were fine as they did not look cancerous or infected.  So it went, the stress question, then the stress comment, the anxiety questions, I assure him, I know what anxiety is, I have had anxiety.  I'm not suffering from an anxiety disorder right now.  "But your symptoms can be caused by anxiety."  He insists "I want you to have a psych consult." He tells me.  Then he wants to up my fibromyalgia meds which are mild anti
depressants.  "No." I tell him. "I get really sick when you guys up or change my meds, cymbal ta is working on my pain right now with very little to no side effects.  I am not upping it."  Then he
assures me in a once again patronizing tone.  "There is always an adjustment period when starting new meds."  This is when I began to get angry. "I dropped 2 dress sizes in a week last time. I'm already sick, I'm not doing that again." "Your choice" he tells me shaking his head.  This student is talking down to me, ignoring my observations of my emotional/mental state and he doesn't even understand the use of basic body language and it's effect on communication between caregiver and patient.  He left to talk to the nurse and I started to cry, out of pure frustration.  I don't want to be sick I am sick of being sick.  I'm missing out on important things with my children. This is the first non-vague symptom I get, and I can't even tell him what I think it is or why because all it will do is reinforce his diagnosis of general anxiety disorder.  He came back with a questionaire for GeneralAnxiety Disorder,  which is like 9 questions.  Really?!? That's all it takes to diagnose GAD?  Plus the questionnaire leaves no room for disease symptoms, as if the only reason I could be possibly
be irritable would be anxiety, not the fact that my legs are sore and I am unexplainably exhausted, not hiding to stay in bed but actually diagnosed by my sleep specialist as truly fatigued.  Then he wants
to put me on a larazapan type anti anxiety med.  "It makes me lethargic." I told him. "I spend too much time in bed as is. I'm not taking those."
"But it will help with your anxiety."
*face palm*
Finally he asked me what I am worried about.  I explained that my symptoms are worse, that I need a wheelchair to grocery shop because I get so tired, dizzy and my knees give out.  I'm worried that there is something wrong with my heart, with the way my blood moves, I'm worried that I am sick and we are not looking at all the possibilities and I am missing out on time with my family.  I don't want to be sick.  I want to get better. Then we went back over how tired I am, Scott mentioned my iron was low, then the student said he would put together some blood work to look at that, he left, spoke with my nurse Practioner and had ordered an ECG, a mobile ECG for a few days a cbc, a test
for diabetes and a few others.  I agreed to the psych consult to prove once and for all I do not have an anxiety disorder, so that we can move on to my real diagnosis. An hour and a half, that is how long that took.

He was so sure that I had anxiety he overlooked the proof that I do not have it:  My blood pressure was normal. Let's take a look at this situation from the view of a caregiver who has read my notes.  History of sexual and physical abuse by men in positions of authority.  Trauma caused by male doctor cutting into genitals without pharmaceutical pain relief, a preference to female caregivers.  She arrives to see that instead of her nurse she has  a male she barely knows,  he is examining her,  touching her  and her  blood pressure is fine.  Her heart rate is fine.  Someone who is suffering from GAD with my background would have a rush of epinephrine in a situation like that, her bp and heart
rate would jump considerably, as cymbalta is not a beta blocker.  While I was putting on my boots my
nurse practitioner came out, part of me wanted to show her my finger nail and talk to her about it, but not her part of me thought; What's the point? Here's what I learned, if they are going to treat me like I'm  crazy anyways, I might as well just tell them what think it is right away rather than waste so
much time.