life, thoughts

Take a Pill

Last week I posted about how a couple of people have tried to rush me to get a new pet after saying goodbye to my beloved dog, Max. Today I’d like to discuss a topic that is related, but more about processing emotions in general.

You might say that those people think they’re trying to help by offering a new pet to stop me from hurting. That may be true, but in many cases, I think this goes even deeper.

Why does much of society think they can obliterate bad times altogether for humanity?

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life, thoughts

Three Lifetimes

I have lived three lifetimes.

No, this is not a post about reincarnation. I really have lived three lives as this Lori person.

I’ve debated whether to publish this post. It’s a bit vulnerable for me. I’ve decided to share it for anyone else who can relate, and for the assurance that life can get better.

Side note: I’m a little late with this post. I got to enjoy having people to celebrate my birthday with now that I’m back near family and friends. The week long celebration (with different people each time) is over now, and I have good memories left in its place. Now, onto my three lifetimes.
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health, life, writing

The Feet Chronicles

There is a curse upon our feet!

You’d think the stories I told about injured feet before were enough, but no, fate has brought me more.

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health, life

Coming Home

Home AveIt wasn’t enough that my husband’s feet were shattered, or that my dog had surgery and broke open his wound. Yes, we needed another obstacle to overcome. I was alerted to a flat tire when I stopped for dinner at Chick-fil-A. Since the tire hadn’t completely deflated, and my house was only a mile down the road, I got myself some dinner and drove the car home. I would just have to use my husband’s car to get around for a while (which was another mess, because his car was still at work).

Three days later, after three weeks in hospitals, my husband was finally coming home. A hospital bed smack dab in the middle of our living room awaited his arrival.

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health, life

Stretched Thin

I stood frozen in my husband’s hospital room. He just had surgery on his shattered feet. My dog, Max had surgery only two weeks before to have a lump removed. It was benign and healed over … or so we thought. My pet sitter called to tell me Max’s wound had split open.

“Is it bleeding?” I asked.

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health, life, memoir

Released from Purgatory

The people involved in the repair and recovery of my husband’s shattered feet had left us to fend for ourselves. We no longer could tolerate the miscommunication and lack of compassion. The two of us put our heads together and decided to be more assertive, in other words, pushy … in order to get something done.

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health, life, memoir

Feet Tale Two

From the emergency room, my husband was admitted to the hospital. He was in and out of sleep from pain medication. Since 2:30 in the afternoon we waited for a surgeon to repair his shattered feet, but by 10pm, there was no sign of one. Is it still an emergency after almost eight hours?

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health, life, memoir

A Tale about Feet

On April 15, 2014, my dog, Max, had a quarter-sized lump removed from his side. We had to wait for test results to come back and have his stitches removed in ten days (this is relevant for later).

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On April 17, 2014, my husband called me from work just to say hi and let me know he was thinking of me.

Ten minutes after we hung up, around 2:30pm, my phone rang and I saw his number on caller ID again. Hmm. I wonder what he could’ve forgotten to tell me.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice I didn’t recognize said, “Hi. Is this Lori, Gary’s wife?”

“Yes.” My voice shook.

“Gary just had an accident at work. We called an ambulance for him.”

“Wha… Wha… What?” Fear shot through my veins and straight into my brain, causing logical thoughts to scamper and hide.

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