Category Archives: dark humor

Chapter 6

I trudged on day in and day out until I was dragging my left foot, even with a brace and cane. Until one day at work when my boss sent someone to get packages and some mail from me to help me finish my route for the day, when I got out of the vehicle, I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t pick up that leg at all. I was eating Advil like they were tic tacs, screaming at the top of my lungs when I would hit a stretch of road that was uninhabited, and I kept going. But that last day, I couldn’t go anymore. I had to hold on to the vehicle, have help getting back in and pray I made it back to the office.

We finally got in to see the neurosurgeon that has been tracking my brain gremlin and he had a whole battery of tests run. Turns out my spine had degenerated in places so bad, that the nerve going to my left foot was being crushed. So, more scans, xrays, MRIs and several appointments later, we found out that my spine is free tumors, Godsend for sure, and I was sent across the UVA campus to another neurosurgeon, this time a spinal neurosurgeon.
So in January, less than 12 months after finding my meningioma, I went under the knife for spinal surgery in the hopes that my left foot would be working again soon after.
Everyone hears the old tales about best laid plans:
“If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans”, yes, I’m paraphrasing. But you get the drift.
The Dr told us ahead of surgery that it could be six to eight months before we saw improvement, then it could be a year, then after seeing a foot specialist to ensure that the ligaments and tendons from a previous surgery were still intact and not the cause of the issue I was still having, we were told that foot-drop could take up to 24 months to see total if not just partial improvements, my mental health took another nosedive.
I couldn’t not return to work, that’s all I’ve wanted this whole time, was to return to work. To return to my route, to my customers, to my route doggies that I loved as much as my own.
I was devastated, I still am. I have been fighting Drs for a partial release to work, I have been fighting work for a light duty position, I’ve been fighting my own brain and feeling useless. How could I go from a fiercely independent, strong willed, self-motivated person to this shell. I have no creative desire to work on my jewelry or do my leather work. I don’t feel like painting, house work has fallen by the wayside, I must sit in a rolling walker to wash dishes or to cook something. I can’t stand for more than a couple minutes at a time without my muscles seizing up.
And yet every time I’m asked how I’m doing I say I’m doing ok. What does ok mean? I’m fine, what exactly does that mean? I saw a quote recently about instead of saying “I’m ok” instead they say “I’m upright and not crying”. And honestly, I want that on every t-shirt, hoodie, sticker, mug, whatever I could get it put on. Because in all honesty, there are days when my mental health is either on the really dark side or jumping through hoops just to keep going.

But,  I digress… on to a new day,  and a new chance of being on this side of the soil.

Chapter 4

Now, I’m not sure if you realize this, because I was shocked at the people who immediately think that even though the mass isn’t cancerous, it’s safe.
Hold your hand up if you realize there is only so much room inside of your skull for the brain, veins and fluid. My little non-harmful growth inside my brain is wrapped around my optic nerve, carotid artery, and pushing into my pituitary gland. When I say wrapped, that’s a loose term. What the Neurosurgeon explained it as, was lava flowing down and around the optic nerve into the cavernous sinus (fancy schmancy words, huh)..
We were told removing it in any way, would be detrimental to my life. There are so many factors to take into consideration where my intruder was concerned. The carotid artery being involved was one of said factors. Not to mention, depth, risks of infection, yada, yada, yada, yada, yada.
So who’s had an MRI, who’s almost wrecked the machine when it locked in place because they’re uncomfortable in tight places? You guessed it, I must be drugged, and have every accommodation known to man to be in the tube, or at least to begin with. That fear and total disregard for my own safety has lessened a bit each time I go in one. And 33 treatments of radiation have made it a bit more tolerable for the head scans anyway. I’ll get into the other scans later.

When my world was getting all topsy turvy, I was still dealing with the rumors and telling stories out of school scenarios. Still feeling like I had lost control of the situation and regretting letting anyone know, I was still feeling betrayed and was spiraling. But in the end, I wanted control. I felt like everything was out of control, I had no say in anything. My choices were taken away. They told us the gremlin in my brain was inoperable. I asked if they could just yank my eyeball out, tumor with it (they did say it was wrapped around the optic nerve) and replace it with a disco ball or laser pointer eye. I think the neurosurgeon was stunned for a whole 13 seconds, he cocked his head to the side, as if he was considering locking me away permanently or wondering if I was kidding. I wasn’t kidding. If it would save my life, take my eyeball, I have two.
No go on that. Another option or choice taken away.
It can’t be operated on, it can’t be removed, it can’t be replaced.
That decision was also taken away, when my case went in front of a “Tumor Board” of the top Drs in their field to see if I was a viable case for removal of the hobgoblin residing in my cerebellum. Another thing I couldn’t control. Life sucks, it isn’t fair and why is it always me… right?
I say those things because I felt cheated.
Skin cancer: remove that section and have a graft if needed.
Breast cancer: take them off and get new ones if you choose.
Ovarian or uterine cancer: yank it out.
I know this is a simplification and doesn’t apply to every situation. But in the moment, in my mind, that’s how it felt. I felt like life had kicked me in the teeth again and this time it wasn’t even going to let me get a kick in to make myself feel better. How unfair can life get, never ask yourself that question.
I am honestly both ashamed and not ashamed at the same time for my feelings. I am of course allowed to have feelings on the subject. But how do I explain to people that I have something that can drop me to the ground tomorrow?
“Oh, its benign, that’s good right?”
How much extra space do you think is available up there? And how do you look someone in the eye and tell them that they look fine when their whole world is uncharted?
How do you explain to family who basically blow it off that you are a walking time bomb. No, I can’t do the things I used to do. No, I can’t just pop on a plane and go here or there. I can’t just jump in my truck for a road trip. There are other mitigating factors now that those concerns are out there, but I feel like a never ending story of “what the actual hell”.

Stay tuned for my off the wall,  ‘odd duck’ decision that got double edged reviews.

Chapter 3

When the scans showed an obvious mass, I had to buck up and force myself to contact my late brother’s wife. I couldn’t remember the name of his tumor, and we were still keeping a lid on everything. So I knew it wouldn’t be long before I had to tell our daughter and then figure out the rest. So the fact-finding phone call turned up information that both solidified the fear but also gave us a glimmer of hope since they were initially categorizing the mass as a meningioma. Meningiomas are typically cancer free, but they still represent a fear of harm to the brain and potential death. So, my immediate family found out while I was still in the hospital. My boss found out so she could file paperwork for me to be absent and help cover my ass at work.
We told everyone not to say anything. I wasn’t posting any information online, I hadn’t mentioned being sick. I wanted to be able to process the information, deal with what was going on, figure out my feelings on everything, because even roller coasters didn’t have as many up, down, sideways and loopty loops as my emotions did.
In my haste to tell my immediate family, I accidentally included an extended family member by the same name as someone else I was trying to let know. I immediately asked them not to share any info, that it was not for public consumption,  and to please let me tell people as I saw fit. And, of course,  those wishes weren’t granted. I mean, I did mention the little black cloud of injustice, correct? Best laid plans, intentions, and all that gobbilty goop.

The hospital neurosurgeon did tell us that they had neither the equipment nor the cowboys to perform the type of surgery I might need to get rid of the freeloader that had taken up residence in my brain. I mean, whaaaat!!! In all honesty, I’m grateful that she did. She told us she was referring us to a neurosurgeon that she had worked with before and was very confident that He was whom I needed to be seen by. So, a few referrals, a handful of phone calls, and 2 weeks later, we were on the road to UVA and my new team of Brainiac Fixers.
When I say “we” I mean, my tribe. My three sisters showed up for me. Texas, Oklahoma, & Virginia, all at my daughter’s house, along with my daughter wearing eye patches. Because laughter gets us through the dark times. Imagine rolling up for dinner with your kids, to find your sisters and daughter on the steps, all surprising you, wearing these silly eye patches. I cried, of course, then threw a tantrum because I wasn’t getting the sushi bake that I was promised for dinner.
I knew they would be with me, support me, and just be there. We’re sisters, it’s what you do. But they drove out here to go to all of the dr appointments with us. Texas even became my own personal secretary in the visits, so I wouldn’t forget anything and we could focus on the Drs.

And support is what we needed. We felt like we were on this roller coaster of emotions, and what happens next, how do we feel about it and basically lost somewhere between losing our minds and being numb altogether.

Chapter 5      

In all of my searching for something I could control, I decided to have a custom urn made for myself. I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, but this was something I could control, and I hope it stays in the closet another 25 years. My husband, though not fully understanding, was very supportive. So I am now the proud owner of a custom walnut urn that has been fractal burned and has turquoise lightning strikes (they glow in the dark) running through it. I’m in love with it. My daughter plans on taking me on road trips with her, and I get to ride around I style. Don’t disillusion me, maybe one road trip, but my ride will be glorious. And the fact that I could control one thing during this shit storm of trouble was cathartic for sure.
So if you are personally feeling like you are having a crisis moment or feel as if you are in a tailspin. Find something you can control. Do it. Don’t harm yourself or anyone else, for the love of Pete, roses and all that is sacred in this mortal plane but choose something simple to set your sights on that will give you that sense of control again.

Losing control of the situation seems to be a running joke with my guardian angel, protector, or the Fates.
Due to a few complications from the radiation to my brain, I was prescribed a drug to help with swelling in my brain and to help relieve the pressure. A drug that can cause side effects, but some Drs won’t acknowledge. Of course, I happen to be one of the lucky fewwhot had a reaction to it. As I have a previous health issue of fibromyalgia as well as rheumatoid arthritis, the drug I was prescribed aggravated my conditions. So every nerve ending and joint became my sworn and total enemy. I began to have extensive pain, muscle spasms, and contractures. While I worked the entire time I had radiation, missing work only one day because the machine broke down and I would have had to reschedule or be a few hours late for work, I started to struggle with pain and even walking. I am a rural mail carrier, and as my route is mostly driving, I would have to get out of the vehicle and walk through peoples yards to deliver packages that wouldn’t fit in their mailboxes.
As time progressed, I had difficulty walking up a set of stairs, and then uneven ground became a land mine. Before long, I had to use a cane to walk at home, in the office, at the store. Within 2 months of finishing radiation, I was semi crippled. I couldn’t feel my left foot, I was dragging it when I walked, and the feeling in my calf and shin had diminished. It got to the point I couldn’t walk without a walker, I had to have help out of my vehicle and into our house
After going to the orthopedic clinic, they decided I had drop foot, ordered me to wear a brace, and told me to ask my neurosurgeon for a consultation on my foot. While waiting for the consult, I continued to work, I struggled greatly and  I cried daily in pain and frustration. My mental capacity was struggling as well. What had I done to deserve this. Why me.

And the Angst will continue… (we haven’t even gotten to the fun parts yet)

Chapter 2

At some point, you have to think what the hell happened to my life. Why am I being punished. I have always jokingly told people, when confronted with the little black cloud that seems to flow is around, that my family line was cursed several hundred years ago, and we haven’t been able to undo the curse yet. 
Ironically, our ancestors were at the Salem witch trials. They’re mentioned in transcripts and were forced out of Salem and moved to Nova Scotia and other more welcoming areas. 
But I digress, the curse……
Subtle and not so subtle trouble always seems to find us.
I can break down a checkout line, gas pump, or computer system from 5 feet away, I don’t even have to lay hands on it.
I like to call that my magnetic personality taking over, apologize to the people behind me, and keep going. 
It took a while for my current husband to figure out that was just the way of life as we know it. 
But he takes it in stride now. 
Mr. Magoo and his little black cloud have nothing on us..
But all of the crazy situations are, for the most part, fodder for funny stories, and laughing at our own misfortune makes us stronger. 



Handed one’s own mortality on a plate is a heart stopping, and ‘can’t catch your breath’ moment that is so hard to explain if you’ve never dealt with it. 
And I can only share my own experience personally, as well as my experience being on the side lines of a loved one that has been handed their own news.

I went to the hospital with stroke level blood pressure readings, some slurring of words, and blurry vision. I had been dealing with my the estate of my late father in law , all in my own, no lawyer, no help, bless my hubby’s heart but computer skills and people skills are not his strong suit, for almost a year when this happened. Stress was an everyday thing, I was working full time and handling this for an out of state death during work hours and after I got home. It was a constant struggle, and I just thought I was worn out. 
When my BP had gotten so bad that I had trouble keeping it down, I carried my bp cuff with me to work to monitor my numbers. 
I had to go to a doc-in-the-box after work for them to check my stats, and they immediately took me inside and wouldn’t let me leave without a driver or an ambulance. I give kudos to both that office and the ER, they took me straight in and started Labs and scans.
So when the dr came back in and told us good news I wasn’t having a stroke, you would think that he would have looked relieved.
We were relieved, and thought ok, so my BP is spiking because of stress… right?
When the Dr said that while there were no stroke signs, they did see a spot on my brain. 
What do you mean a spot in my brain, like a shadow, scarring?…. I have had several head injuries over the years, I can see that. And the whole time, the Dr is shaking his head and told us no, it’s not a shadow, it looks like a mass and they were keeping me overnight, to run MRIs and get control of my BP.
My world just dropped away. I was stunned and immediately looked at my husband and was like, no way, this can’t be happening. 
My brother had a brain tumor. CT scans, X-rays, nothing showed up until his eye Drs found it. 
And it was inoperable.
He eventually died from it. 
Now add in the fact that I have a variety of family history with cancer, and if you’ve never looked your own mortality in the face, this is what it looks like.
Your mind trips back to the ones you’ve lost due to certain cancers or other ailments.
Am I the first to have health issues, NO. Am I the first in my family to have health scares, absolutely not. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons I was instantly terrified.
I wasn’t done living.
Car wrecks, stomped by a raging bucking bull, run over by horses, slammed around in sale barns by cattle and horses, drug by horses, falling from ladders, even carbon monoxide didn’t take me from this Earth.
All of my previous exploits in life didn’t kill me, but suddenly, I have something that they’re saying could possibly be one thing or another, rocked my inner being for a virtual loop. How, why, what… every question you can imagine rolls through your mind. And what can be done?
Being in the hospital and not telling anyone the reason for the 2 and half-day stay, including my daughter to begin with, was a strain. Hubby didn’t know what to say, we chose to not say anything to start with. Tests were being run, we were waiting for answers and praying they were wrong. I let work know I would be out a couple of days, and our daughter took care of our animals while we were in the hospital.

And that’s enough for today. 

I’ll add more later

Chapter 1…… I’m being a smart ass.. you’ll figure that out it happens frequently

Chapter 1
It feels funny saying chapter….anything. I may not even get this out chronologically. It may even come out backwards at some point. My life has never followed a straight line. But I will try to keep it one lane…
Who am I kidding, this is going to be closer to five or six rollercoasters crossing paths and converging upon all of us.
I grew up in a pretty big family. The baby of the group so to speak. Five kids, four girls and one boy smack dab in the middle. Poor guy you must think. You’d be wrong. He gave as good as he got.

But to be honest, there was a good age gap between the second oldest sister and our brother. But the last three of us all arrived with 4 years of each other. That might have been a blessing or a curse. And the decision on that depended on what day it was.

Both of my parents were amazing. I cannot reiterate that enough. And being raised by those two individuals is part of what made me the person that I am today. Both my beliefs and my strength can be traced back to how they raised me and my siblings.
Our dad could outwork any man I’ve ever known.
He was this wonderful combination of military, construction worker, and Cowboy all wrapped up into this giant but quiet, hardworking and not always the most patient (I mentioned the five kids) individual that I have ever met, well at the time.
Our mom was somewhere between an angel and guide to the universe. The woman had five kids, was hard working in home life, work life, and even continued her education later in life.
I remember growing up in southern California  in one of the smallest towns in existence at the time. At least in my mind. I remember riding horses with dad, and picking strawberries with my mom in the garden. The old rock fireplace with a warm cozy fire, listening to dad play the piano or guitar and playing with our dog Pepper.  I was young when we moved from southern California to a small town in southern Missouri. Three families from the same small town in California moved to the same small town in Missouri. And once again, the area where I finished my youth was so small that we knew everyone close.
Now as any one in a small town will tell you, growing up in close proximity is nothing if not trying at times. And maybe close proximity is the wrong term, but I’m going to use it. Granted that while our county was pretty big, it was over 20 minutes to the next town where we were bused to the high school, and over an hour to a larger town so visit a big chain store, the mall, or even a McDonalds. And even to this day I wouldn’t trade that remoteness for anything.
Now imagine being in such a small community that one of you high school teachers says to you,  “Oh no, not another Henderson”. To be fair, I was the fourth of our brood, so honestly she was in her rights. But she did turn out to be a favorite, so all was forgiven.
Humble beginnings and a humbler life still, but the times that lapse in between the growing up and the “I can’t believe I’ve made it this far” are both joyous and horrendous at best.
At what point in your life do you quit dreaming, at what point do you give up or settle. How many setbacks does it take to set a pattern in your life. Keep going, keep your head up, keep trying to overcome that which sets you back. It takes mettle, it takes steel and determination to overcome that which sets you back.
I have spent many years wondering what exactly my path in life is to be. What am I  here for, why should I have bared the burdens and troubles that I have withstood as of yet in my life.
   The dark side of life is not for the weak. It definitely isn’t for the disinterested. For how can you go through life without caring one way or another how life turns out or how you have made an impact.
I for one, cannot even imagine not caring.

Welcome to my twisted mind

Oh goodness, where to begin?

Have you ever noticed that gallows humor is a close cousin of sarcasm? It’s how we survive, or rather, it’s how I survive.

What drives a human to look at the dark side of humor as a coping mechanism for stress, loss or any soul defining moment in time?

That question in and of itself is the answer.

How else do you bring yourself to the moment that every breath you take doesn’t feel as if it is going to break you?

 

While all of that isn’t really the reason for this story, it is a steppingstone or path that I had to journey down whether I wanted to or not. Sure, life is hard, life can kick you in the proverbial nuts and laugh at you as you drop to the ground.

How far into the ground you drop is a defining moment for most people. And before you ask, no I didn’t do a survey. But my knowledge of this certain aspect is both self-defining and observation.

 

I am not all knowing, nor do I claim to know exactly how another person would react to certain moments in their lives. But what I can do is tell you how my defining moments changed me or molded me into the sarcastic, closet hopeful, introvert that wants to be social, gallows humor-wielding dynamo that I am today.

  • So if you just want to experience my raw self proclaimed status of funny girl, get a deep seat and a far away look.  This ride is bumpy, keep your hands, arms, feet and legs inside the rollercoaster car and for the love of all that is Holy in your world, don’t talk to the hobgoblins in the shadows.