We’ve moved to a new location. Below are the most recent posts:
Hop over and be sure to subscribe while you’re there.
No, not literally. It may wear you out and frankly, you won’t get anywhere.
Okay friends, strangers I hope will become friends, and anybody else who’s interested. I’m trying to transition our Living Chronically blog over to it’s new and more “Lori friendly” home. After you’ve made that all important leap of faith, I’d love for you to join in. Please click on “The Committed” button to join in and I’ll be able to jump back and visit you some time as well! If, for some unknown reason, you aren’t comfy doing that, you can click on “The Alternative” button. I and my other blogger friends won’t have the pleasure of seeing your pretty profile on my blog. But, hey, whatever floats your boat. The important thing here is to jump.
Ready? Here’s where you make the JUMP See you there!
P.S. Please be kind. It’s a work in progress and beauty sometimes takes it’s own sweet time.
Living Chronically is trying something new and would LOVE your opinions.
I am more familiar with Blogger’s platform and the options it offers to it’s blogger children. So, my experiment is to create another blog titled LivingChronically.blogspot.com (instead of WordPress). Hop over for a visit. The history, food lists, and menus are the same.
Just a little experiment. Which do you prefer?
If you’re reading this and you’re not particularly religious, then I’m sorry if I offend. However, I am religious and I gain most if not all of my strength from my faith.
Yesterday morning I was having somewhat of a pity party because of stupid migraines and Jessie’s attachment to them. I decided to take the old treadmill for a walk, listen to a sermon on my ipod (sick, I know) and try to calm down. It’s funny how the sermon always seems to match whatever worries I’m having at the moment.
Long story short, I learned about the importance of being “fishers of men” and that no matter how insignificant we think we are and how crappy our luck is, we are all given that one important job in life. We’re set upon a path which, IF our hearts are willing and open, will help others – sometimes even without our knowledge. The lecturer went on to say that most often, it’s not a pastor who leads someone else in faith because people expect to hear the lecture from a church leader. It’s the people who have made it though terrible situations who will inspire others.
I’m done trying to figure out WHY Jessie was given this lot right now, but it sure is comforting knowing that the way she’s handled her situation could be an inspiration to others, maybe even strengthening their faith in the process.
Isn’t that a cool thought? It’s a small thought, but all the same, pretty cool.
So, what’s the point? For me, the point is to not constantly curse a crappy situation (although I’m sure I’ll do it from time to time), to make it my goal to stay focused on the positive, inject humor whenever possible (although not today), and pray. :)
What do you do to pull yourself up?
I’m going to begin with, “Isn’t summer delicious?” No stress, no alarms, no bed times, no parents standing over you screaming at the top of their lungs telling you to get ready for school. The deliciousness of summer ended for us two weeks ago. Yes, I’ll admit that, as a parent, I was ready to get the monsters kids out of the house. However, as the end approached I felt an even stronger, familiar ache in the old tummy.
I knew immediately that this deep ache was my all-time, “A” number one enemy, inspiration of all things therapeutic, of all things yoga, and quite frankly, the evening glass(es) of wine. Yes, it was (pause for effect) parent of a chronically ill child anxiety.
Now if you’re out there, currently perusing this post, you know who you are. No need to fool yourself. In fact, sometimes it’s better to go ahead and lay it all out in front of God and anybody else who cares to listen rather than bottling those feelings up deep inside.
Having said that, consider yourself forewarned that the summer has indeed ended and, while I may appear incredibly elated calm on the outside, inside I am a quivering ball of nervous mush.
The anti-christ Jessie has been in school for two weeks now and until today has done splendidly. She has been very tired in the evenings, but has been great about resting. This weekend, her boyfriend, Satan himself Nathan, came for a visit. I have to say that it was an enormously stressful terrific weekend. Jes, Nathan, Wes and friends did lots of fun things, interspersed with tons of rest. I think she’s had a bit of a flare (CFS term meaning tiny relapse) but it’s probably minor and short-lived. I confess that the timing probably wasn’t the best for a visit and the blame falls entirely on the stupid kids for planning this me.
We received the official call today. Stomach Doc says, “Tell Jessie that the party’s over.”
In anticipation of the expected call, the kitchen has been restocked with gluten free pasta, Bob’s Red Mill flour, etc. We’re not trying to fool anyone here. We knew it would end. C’est la vie.
BUT… Refusing to give up hope, accepting that the party is, in fact, over is just not right in our book! Hail to the party! The party shall NEVER be over, we feverishly cry.
So, we will happily collect the gluten-free supplies for the pantry, FOREVER attempting to create that perfect gluten-free cupcake. Party over? We think not! Who needs stinky old gluten anyway? (Well, mom here does, from time to time. But we’ll just keep that as our little secret, won’t we?)