In an effort to become re-inspired by blogging, I will be retooling this blog. Probably a fresh look, new organization, some of the widgets will go, perhaps to be replaced by new ones. But it seems to me the place needs a facelift. So, pardon our mess while we improve your experience In the Attic.
Mom came home from the hospital on Saturday evening. She checked herself out because the hospital staff refused to treat her pain or listen to what has worked in the past. Since they've never heard of her condition, it obviously doesn't exist. Something I find amazing considering the wealth of information found at wikipedia.
Anyway, she is home now and exhibiting signs that the Transverse Myelitis episode (of which this is her fourth, indicating the presence of severe MS) possible caused a small stroke. As a result, she cannot use the left side of what is remaining of her functioning limbs. The pain in that side is quite severe, and if it doesn't abate by the latter half of the week, to the hospital in Fresno we go.
But, she's eating like a horse, so I guess that's somethin'.
In the meantime, I am working from home this week (during the day) and am having what recruits I can find stay with her in the evenings while I am in rehearsal for Last Train to Nibroc
The title of this refers to the fact that once again, as was the case 5 years ago this spring, mom is entirely bed-bound, unable to do very much for herself and entirely dependent. If the situation cannot improve, we must face the fact that it may be time to put her into convalescence. Something I do not relish. In the least.
So, the biggest question issuing forth from my mom's lips in the last two days has been "Why does God want me to suffer so?"
And when she says "suffer", she means SUFFER. Not "Why does God make me put up with these little annoyances?" "Why does God inflict this obstacle upon me?" But suffer-- in the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual sense. But primarily the physical
Last night at about 10 p.m., some symptoms came forward that were very similar to what occurred when her acute transverse myelitis presented itself the first three time-- which is what made her a paraplegic, raising her paraplegia higher in her spinal chord each time.
This time, though, since the damage to her spinal chord is slowly getting higher and higher, the pain and dysfunction occured in her breathing and in her heart operation. She literally thought she was going to die. And the thought crossed my mind, too.
And, the fact that the pain from transverse myelitis is almost entirely neurological, there is only so much a traditional opiate treatment can do. Opiates help manage her pain on a day to day basis, in conjunction with neurological meds originally intended for epilepsy and anxiety.
So, when the extreme pain of the spinal chord wigging out on her body comes along, most E.R. staff (who have never seen this before) don't understand why 8 mg of morphine isn't knocking her on her ass. Well, that's because only an antianxiety med (to help the nerve impulses slow down) and a corticosteroid (to slow the inflammation in the spine) will do ANYTHING.
I know this. But will they listen to me? No. I'm just the one who has watched the progression of this disease for six years. Observed closely the person who has lived with it everyday.
Anyway, she finally got some relief and what happens? This afternoon the same sort of neuropathy has presented in her left arm and she is, again, in extreme pain. Would the floor nurses in the hospital listen to what she had to say about her condition? No. They accused her of being drug seeking. Well, they would be seeking drugs, too, if they knew of the pain she suffers daily.
So now she is home, slightly more comfortable simply for the fact that we can use her regular antianxiety meds to her advantage to make the pain at least tolerable. And Monday, we will go to a larger hospital where her regular physician will be on duty.
But right now, she experiences nothing but suffering. . . in the "comfort" of her own bed .
Anyone else find themselves actually looking through their own eyes a litle more purposefully when they have a couple a drinks in them ?
I have actually stopped by full circle brewing to pick up a bottle of mead and a crawler of sarsaparilla. And so naturally I have bellied up to the bar for a few clusterfuggle ales. As such, i'm actually relaxing, blogging the experience, and looking and hearing a little better (and possibly a little worse) than usual.
If i could stay for the inner ear poetry jam, i would. Arg.
Anyway, i'm feeling pretty good and i thought i would share. I have already twittered twice in the last hour, so i did a traditional blog. I wouldn't want to pull a lance armstrong or john mayer in the tweets department, you know. don't believe me? Look em up! INSANE with the tweets. Lol!
**** Heather Parish Woodward Shakespeare Festival
#1: From me to mom: "Hey, look at it from my point of view. I deal a lot with your ass!"
#2: From mom to me: "Let me attempt to be perfectly clear about this. I am ALL FUCKED UP!"
So, new portrait of shakespeare discovered. And i now REALLY want to make a jacobean man's ensemble with that collar for the Bard's bash in april!
http://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/03/09/portrait-of-shakespeare-unveiled-399-years-late/
So, it looks as though I won't be doing any Rogue-ing this year, but I suppose that is for the best. This is going to be a hectic week full of theatre preparation stuff for auditions, St. Henry's, an lots of doctors appointments for mom. I'm already trying to come to a state of zen with it all, but that has been ruined by the fender bender I was in this morning.
Last night, mom went 'rogue' as my friend Kristin says, and ran off to Wal-Mart where she lost track of time, carted herself home in her powerchair and injured her foot. It was dangling off her footplate and was scraping the ground for probably upwards of a mile-- she lost her shoe so the entire sole of her foot is scraped off. Her DNA is trailing from the corner of Alta and ElMonte to our house. And this is the foot on the leg of which she broke her femur last week. Yes, her femur. That would be the biggest bone in the body. She broke it.
So mom's care needs have just increased significantly. And she has three doctors appointments this week entailing more random tests for her UTIs, etc.
And now I have to get the headlight fixed on my car.
So, it is probably best that I avoid the Rogue Festival this year because my vibe would seriously poison the well of an audience. I've never been so glad that Kristin is directing the staged reading fo Cymbeline. I was excited that she was doing it before, but now I'm really glad.
I basically can feel myself approaching the line between busy and overwhelmed and have to figure out how to balance everything.
But on the good side Kat and Jarred are in for set and costume design for the season, so that's exciting. And auditions are next week. . . oy! That's a whole nuther set of stuff. . .
Huzzah! I have a cast member for The Foreigner!
I know. . . A cast member. A cast member? But believe me, in a tiny little town that hasn't produced a play in god knows how long, on a play that none of them have heard of. . . A cast member on the first night of Auditions is a good thing. And she's good. This bodes well. I've always said that I don't need a lot of people to audition, I just need the right people to audition.
In other news. .. well, I'm not sure there is other news. Or there's too much to be borne.
The STAA conference was FAB-U-LOUS. I got so much out of that, I can't even begin. We'll see how it goes over with the WSF group. I'll be playing with a few techniques I learned at Shakespeare and Co with the cast of the Julius Caesar reading on Wednesday night. I'm looking forward to the experimentation.
Mom is okay. I think she's a little lonely with me working so much, but on the other hand, my borother has had to spend more time with her in the last few weeks, so that's good. He's in his own overwhelming life right now and I hate asking him for too much help, but in some ways it may be good for him to have a break from his life for a few hours.
And I have to say that the week I was in Massachussetts, my brother took care of my mom really, rather well. And then he was exceptionally helpful during a family crisis from which I was thankfully absent. He's always good in a crisis, though, my brother. (Of course, he's a cop, so I would hope he's good in a crisis. He has that whole "white knight" thing going on in his psyche, after all.)
These days, though, I eat, sleep, and breathe theatre. I've worked every single day on something theatre related for the past two months. It hasn't gotten oppressive yet. Not all of it is fun or stimulating, but most of it is and that's a lot to get out of a job, eh? I think the best and worst is yet to come as I approach actual production at WSF and Selma.
I have to figure out if I can make it down to Bakersfield on Friday to see "Modern Millie". We'll see.
Sorry for how disjointed this entry is. I've actually had a lot of blog-worthy thoughts lately, but they just don't come up when I'm actually AT the blog. Bastard Blog Thoughts!
So, after sixteen some-odd hours of journey time, I have arrived in the Birkshires. The flights went as well as can be expected and some fun times with humanity ensued. But the final journey in was the best. Of course, to a west-coast bred girl, this part of the country looks like something off a backlot where a Hallmark movie is being shot. I kept thinking "Do people really LIVE in these houses?? With these clapboards and bright colors and shutters against the snow?" Weird.
Anyway, I'm now happily situation in my dorm room at the Shakespeare and Co campus. This week will probably settle those Whitworth yearnings I've had from time to time over the last few years. I had to re-learn how to walk on snow and ice. There are cute buildings and trees everywhere. No pinecones, though.
Anyway, I've been up much longer than my body likes to be, so I'm going to get a couple hours of shuteye and then go officially register. Then I get to hike my booty a half a mile uphill to get something to eat ( I wish I could say it was in both directions, but i cannot). I will very likely lose ten pounds by the end of this week (with any luck!).
Will likely write more after hearing Tina Packer speak this evening. Fun!
