HI. MY NAME IS JAN AND.....

I'm standing at a podium in the middle of a small room and I introduce myself,

"Hi. My name is Jan and I suffer from IBS."

Did I expect a response?

From an empty room?

IBS is Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

It's not something one talks about let alone announce from a podium.

The choir loft?

In the line at the grocery store?

From the rooftops?

Over the P.A. system at Wal-Mart 

at the risk of  joining the photos of Wal-Mart shoppers?

IBS. A curse.

If you have a flare-up (flare)

you are chained to your bathroom.

If a flare comes at the wrong time 

you could miss your child's wedding,

your mom's memorial service,

your child's graduation from college,

the grand opening of a Dollar Store.

I had my first flare about five years ago.

That's a totally unacceptable experience when you're not at home.

My doctor put me on a hefty dose of a steroids

to get my flare under control.

.......And he kept me on it for.........five..........years,

assuring me that it was often done that way....long term.

He's a doctor, I believed him.

Slowly the skin on my arms became very thin

and they were easily bruised - blood bruises

like the elderly get on their arms.

It continued to get worse.

Oh, I called the doctor's office several times over those

five years and was reassured each time that

I hadn't been on the steroids too long.

It finally came to the point that I talked to my GP, whom

I trust implicitly, about three months ago.

She had me change doctors.

My new lower GI doctor is wonderful.

He weaned me off of the steroids in three days.

My arms started clearing up and 

the skin on my arms toughened up.

Yea!

At this point you're no doubt wondering why 

in the world am I telling you all of this.

Slow day.

Seriously, there is such an important reason.

It seems that the steroids built up in my body and started

affecting my behavior.

I wasn't aware of it.

Obviously, it got worse as time went on.

.....I have found out that the last year, okay,

probably two, have not been my years to shine.

I owe you an apology if I have ever acted whacked

or talked to you with an unacceptable attitude.

Hey, it could be any of many behaviors - 

I don't remember them.

I think my lack of memory has been my saving grace

in some ways.

It certainly hasn't been in a couple of instances.

May I suggest to those of you that feel you need

to bring to the attention of someone

you love, their behavior or your thoughts

of their mental stability, to do it in a 

loving way so as not to 
make them feel you are on the attack.

Be Jesus when you talk to them.

Be gentle, careful with your words

and most of all, talk to them with the love

you feel for them in your heart.
And, don't wait. Please, don't wait if
you love them. That is only harmful.

What happened to me twice before I even

knew there was a problem was not handled in that way.

Both situations destroyed me.

One friendship ruined,

the other wobbly, to say the least, for 

many months now.

I found out specifics of my behavior 

over the last year or two

from my sister, Joan, in a loving and positive

way last week in Florida.

She was kind and, though made me cry

from extreme embarrassment when

she gave me examples of my behavior,

talked to me like only my sister could.

Lovingly.

She started by telling me that she was

so happy that I was back to my "self".

I thought she was talking about my

arms so showed them off. 

But, no, she was telling me that she was

so glad that I was back to her "Jan".

I was honestly confused.

She explained that for the longest time

I hadn't been "me".

She even gave me examples that made

me want to crawl under the truck

(we were in my brother's pick-up).

Verbal attacks based on nothing, mood swings,

becoming a hermit, unquestionably whacked.

I did ask her why she waited so long to 

bring all of this up and she just didn't know......

I was so embarrassed.

I was mostly concerned that my boys

had been thinking that their mom was crazy.

No one else mattered as much.

No one.

When I talked to my eldest, he said that,

no, I had been fine for the last two years.

I had been so physically challenged.......

that's where I stopped him and steered him back

to my concerns.

That sweet boy forgave me for "nothing".

I shared and apologized to my daughter-in-law, too.

The steroids explained so much about

 the start of our relationship.

So glad to have an answer and her forgiveness.

(two down, two to go)

Even the Tank noticed my new behavior

without me having said anything.

The steroids took about six weeks to

work their way out of my body and

allow me to become myself again - to a point.

And, I feel the difference.

I'm full of the joy, the positive thoughts,

the anxiousness to "do",

and I'm happy. So joyful and happy.

I don't long to be the hermit I have become 

(let's take that one slowly - I don't do drama).

I'm me again.

I had seriously forgotten what it felt like

though I didn't realize that.

Confusing?? That's the real me, too.
However, I realize that it takes months for them
to completely work their way out of my system, 
but have been assured that any future "experiences"
will not be as horrid as the ones I've been
told about.

Again, if I have ever done anything odd or whacked

to you, please accept my apology.

This is the most effective way to get

"the word out".

If you feel the want/need to pass this

on to someone(s), please do.

I seek forgiveness.

P.S. Any comments? All and any are welcome. Anyone think this post could be any longer??

I SEEM TO KEEP TRYING TO KILL MYSELF

I'm doing this post in "grey" to represent the color of brain matter.
I'll get to that in a minute.

First, let me tell you that I'm posting about my yearly summer reunion with my four closest friends from my college sorority, Kappa Delta at Oklahoma State University. We've been getting together every summer for, I think, about 27 or 28 years. We're not the original five because our sister, Susan Taylor Painter, succumbed to brain cancer several years ago. To keep us at five we added the always precious and fun, Rhonda Davis Carretero.

This is the first of probably three posts about this summer's gathering.
I'm starting with the most graphic and unusual happening at one of our gatherings......

This summer we all met in Oklahoma City (Edmond) at Suzie's house. She acted as hostess instead of us getting a hotel or B&B as we usually do. She was just the best hostess and her house is lovely.

However, she has these stairs in her house that we had to go up and down to get from the first floor to the second floor where our bedrooms were located.

So that meant that I had to climb stairs.......and go down them...........

I am still having some problems with my ankles, though I'm not in leg braces any longer, but need to be really careful, especially on uneven ground AND STAIRS.

The first picture right after the fall. Well, first I had to yell, "Get my camera! I'll blog this!" See that lump on the right side of my nose? That's not normally there. And, of course, I didn't take the picture.

So, what could have possessed me to fill my arms so full to go downstairs first thing in the morning? So full that I couldn't hold on to the railing.........I even yelled back at Rhonda, "I'm fixin to go down the stairs and I'm not hanging on!"

What was I thinking???

All I could hear was screaming, "CALL 911!!" "GET ICE!!" "DON'T YOU DARE BLEED ON MY CARPET!!"

I hit the third step and took flight! I didn't "fall down" the stairs. I "flew down the stairs". All six of the remaining steps - we're talkin' airborne!

What stopped me, you ask?

The wall at the landing.

Face first into a wall traveling no less than 95 mph.

I'm so fortunate that the hit didn't send bone shards from my nose up into my brain.

Thus, the reference at the beginning of this blog about "brain matter". Rhonda and I played doctor after the fall, taping up my nose in this ridiculous manner and then we calmly walked into the den like we really had "dressed" my injury. It was a HOOT!

I'm serious (not about how fast I was flying) when I say it could have killed me.
Nope. God said, "I've told you time and time again, no matter what you do to hurt yourself, I've got plans for you and you're not coming over until you've completed your assignment." (Sometimes He likes to play Mission Impossible.)

We took this picture while out shopping either later that day or the next morning.

I don't remember. Probably have a bit of amnesia.

What if it would have killed me? It would have changed everything we had planned for the weekend.

I would have felt terrible.

After I got home, I just got prettier and prettier.

LOOK AT MY NOSE! And, the puffiness under my right eye.

And the WRINKLES!! Now I look 56!

I hope you've enjoyed reading Part I of our summer gathering. I'll post Part II sometime soon. First I really want to tell you about my birthday weekend trip so it'll just have to wait.

Thanks for taking the time to visit me. I'm all better now. (Except for the wrinkles. *shrugging shoulders*) Check ya later! Hope you're enjoying your evening. We're fixin to cook stuffed pork chops for supper. Yum.

XOXO, Jan