To My Fellow Warriors

Last night was one of those silly, weird ones. The ones that you collapse into bed and feel so tired, and yet your mind begins the breakdown of "Life"-  Driving home from work I was on the phone with my Dad. Along with my Mom in the background.  Speaker phone is the rave in their house. And so I shared the latest and greatest.

One of the things my Dad said was "I wish I were there to help you and do that iv, because I would"-

Truth is, he would.  And I know that. But he's not. And I've always just understood. It's who they are.  No gamechanging here kids. 

He went on to say that I can handle it.  And myself agreeing and hearing how I've always been a leader.  The child that wouldn't sit still, and had a mad drive to learn.  And do.  

Where I thrive is "fixing" things.  Or at least trying to.

Only thing now, is I am tired.  And I can't really fix something that is in God's hands.  

I get myself all worked up over something so silly as an IV bag.  A bag that somehow I failed or it failed me last night.  After making one last pee round at 11pm last night, I could hear its temperamental beeping.  A beep that sounded like none I'd heard before. 

He was passed out. 

So I took the thing down.  It kept telling me "Reservoir Blocked" ---

I rolled him on his back. Dug around his port.  Moved lines. Adjusted the beep. Took the battery out.  Put the battery back in. Looked for bubbles like a scientist. Cursed at it. Tried to wake him to help me.  (-----------> Hello Ambien)- And called it an f'n jerk.  Unhooked him. Flushed his port. Capped him.  Rolled him back over.  Turned fan down.  Dropped the bag off in kitchen.  Sat in living room.  Re-group and headed to bed.  I had the most fiercest dreams all night.  None, being good. 

Waking this morning at 5, I wanted to go to the gym. But....I'm waiting for our home health nurse to call me back.

This full TPN bag sitting on my table.  Kind of going through the process of what I feel in my gut as
a mom. Did this thing fail me? Did I fail it? Is this meant to be?  Hang tight and be patient Lisa.
There's no other way. IT. WAS. HIS. LAST. BAG.

But alas, I'm at the mercy of medical.  

His friend called him a day ago telling him that his cancer had returned.  After transplant a year ago.

My stomach churned like a blender.  Wishing the truth would be hidden and reality wasn't to be told.

Things go wrong in life. It's just life.  Whether it's money.  Business. Failure. Relationships.  We all want to eventually wear the winning crown.  Somehow it seems that this life portrays this game to win.  But the truth is, there's always gonna be failure.  Everywhere.  My Dad told me years ago.  EVERY single family. Person. Life. Relationship. Business...has peaks and valleys.  Think about that.  You can't always ride on the high horse.  Even if you're the richest of the richest. Are you rich in spirit? Emotion?  

Health and your children lie hand in hand.  It's not until you are in this ring of fight do you see and

feel and hear it differently.  I see people sharing the latest and greatest of fancy and schmancy.  For one, it's never rocked my boat.  I could care less about fancy cars. (Except fast hot rods...)- And big fancy houses. 

I just want to get him better and hope that the c word doesn't come back. 

I want to see him silly again. Laughing and fishing. And walking across the beach to take pictures.  

This new life is worth working through.  These new stems are delicate little beauties. We will get there. 

To my fellow mama warriors---

"The warrior's path, women are fierce.  They remain fiercely impassive under any conditions. They don't demand anything, yet they are willing to give anything of themselves.  They fiercely seek a signal from the spirit of things in the form of a kind word, an appropriate gesture; and when they get it, they express their thanks by redoubling their fierceness. In the warrior's path, women don't judge.  They fiercely reduce themselves to nothing in order to listen, to watch, so that they can conquer and be humbled by their conquest or be defeated and be enhanced by their defeat.  In a warrior's path, women don't surrender. They may be defeated a thousand times, but they never surrender.  And above all, in the warrior's path, women are free."

I read this quote and I thought of my many mama friends, and family mama warrior's.  

Day Eighty Four. 

May your Wednesday be filled with love. And most of all, good health.

When I mention the notion of being the strong willed second born, type A daughter, it's a finicky mess when trying to roll into my older years while stumbling through these types of days.  In fact, these are the days where I should surrender my tired body and just simply ask for help.  Especially all the help offered to me. 

Considering at times I feel like I'm breaking. 

But I won't.  I will continue on the warrior mom I am.  Fighting for him while he's with me.

Some others have never been given that chance. 

More love and peace to come,

This Warrior Mama Lisa

ps. my lover and I are stepping away for a little early birthday get-away this weekend. Part of me gets excited to just maybe sleep and day drink. While the other...well you know.  That darn word called worry.