I am Back Home Because My Grandma is Dying of Cancer

This is very upsetting. I feel like an asshole. I separated myself from my family about 7 years ago because I felt like I could not live up to their expectations. I felt pressure to be thin, perfect, athletic, and also have a mega career. In retrospect, perhaps I put these expecations on myself. Anyway...I was gone for a long time, but I came back to visit last August with the encouragement of a guy I had just started dating. He told me he didn't see his grandma right before she died and he always regretted it. She only has a couple of weeks now, so I am here.

When I entered the house I was so sad. My grandma looked very frail and old. I was overwhelmed with sadness and cried on and off during the hour and a half long visit. I gave her a hug and asked her how she felt. I can't recall what exactly she said, but the gist I got was that she was not in pain, but very tired and weak. I told her I was sorry I was gone so long, and she said sometimes absense makes the heart grow fonder. I also said I had to go and find myself. She said she knew I didn't have an easy road. I said I still didn't, but I was hoping I'd find my way. She asked me about my boyfriend, and I said he didn't want to boyfriend and girlfriend, but we still might be dating. I said the situation was confusing, but I really liked him. I said maybe I wasn't "the one" for him, and she said, "maybe you are." I held her hand for like an hour and a half. I hugged her and cried on and off. I thanked her for helping raise me, and she commented that we had a good time. I said, remember when we used to go"bumming?"...she said she liked all the garage sales we went to. I commented on the antique shops as well, and how much fun it was decorating Christmas cookies with her...She said she loved me, and I said I loved her too. I then went to visit with my aunt and cousin, and came back to grandma and grandpas for dinner. Grandma invited me to stay over, and I did. It was nice to be home.

Let's Talk About the Time I Had a Blood Transfusion and almost Died! :)

Yippie! :).... Can you sense my joy?.. and by the way, I apologize for my crankiness in my last post...I was feeling a bit... uh...."emotional"....

Anyway, when I was 21 years old I had to have a blood transfusion, as the result of my eating disorder. (Yeah, this is back when I actually had health insurance)....I was pretty athletic back then, I was a runner. I was suddenly feeling tired, my legs were "giving out on me"...I remember going on a run, and almost collapsing. I had to sit down for a moment because my legs gave out. (and before this, when I was healthier, I would run like 5 miles a day). When I walked up the stairs at college, I would bend over and gasp for breath after 6 flights of stairs. (again, a girl who used to run 30 minutes to an hour a day-- a few flights of stairs should be nothing....)....

I told my therapist about how my legs felt so tired, and how I would pant at the top of the stairs. She was immediately concerned. (She actually used to be a nurse, before pursing a PhD in therapy). She called someone she knew at a local hospital, and I had an appointment shortly thereafter. Diagnosis-- SEVERE anemia. My hemoglobin was 4 point something...It's supposed to be a MINIMUM of 12....(these are red blood cells that help carry oxygen to your muscles or something)...

Because of the apparent severity of my anemia, I had to have a blood transfusion. According to my Dad, I was about a month away from death. He said this is what the doctor told him. I have no idea if this is true, or if he just said this to scare me. I felt very "wrong" though, I will say that. I felt so weak.

Was there something going on in the cosmos? Just a day or two later the "Columbine" shootings took place. I remember being at home, "recovering" from my transfusion, when the Columbine massacre took place. (Which was both fucked up, and yet sickly fascinating)... .The world is so fucked....

The aftermath of my blood transfusion was scary. I suddenly had 2 extra bags of blood in me-- which is a lot of extra liquid. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears...I had too much liquid, which I guess I had to pee out or something...I couldn't lie down. I had to be propped up in bed with a few pillows because of the physical pain and pressure of having all this extra liquid in me. ... After the blood transfusion I was up to a hemoglobin (or is it hematocrit?) of 8...enough to take me out of the MEGA danger zone.... after this I had to take iron supplements for some time to get it back up to 12.

So I dodged that bullet. I can't run anymore-- because 2 or 3 years later I went semi insane and destroyed my knees-- long story... but I'm still here. My legs have recently been feeling mildly weak. I am concerned I may be mildly anemic, but have no way of knowing, because I have no health care, nor can I get it because of my medical history. I started taking iron supplements again. I hope I'm not on the fucking verge of death....

Not Doing too good Tonight...

I'm thinking about too many things...the past, my family...people I know, and people I knew...I need to get rid of the nostalgic streak, but it haunts me...Not to be melodramatic, but it really does...I suppose it doesn't help that I've been listening to you tube videos all night...think Alanis Morissette, Willie Nelson, and Anne Murray...

Yes, I know, potentially self indulgent and pathetic, but in a strange way...it makes me feel better...the songs I listen to, I listen to for a specific reason...the remind me of a time in my life, a certain feeling...you know? There's something about music that does that. It transports me back in time-- Alanis Morissette to my late teen years and early 20's...Willie and Anne to my childhood years...when my mother was still here...I don't remember her well, but I know she loved me. I wish she was still here. I know she loved me. I don't know how, but I just know. And my Dad told me she kind of favored me...then she offed herself. Maybe that's why I'm so fucked up. I'm very introspective and I know how I feel. I usually know why I feel the way I feel. It doesn't change things though. It doesnt' make things better....Maybe I should paint about it. I just miss them.

PS: this is a sketch from long ago...I did this in Jeremy's dorm room...