A Big Lump In The Road...

Moving day/week has come and gone with to many complications to count. I should look on the bright side, at least the complications weren't as expensive as they were last time! No wonder I despise moving!! Of course our bump, or my lump, didn't quite look like the one to the left- but was the one below.

On Tuesday, while moving some of the boxes and smaller stuff, I began to notice a bump (just like the one I have now had on my right and left eye) starting on the right side of my chin. It was a little painful, but at that point I just could not believe it could be another huge abscess beginning. Well, by Wednesday I started to realize I was very wrong as that I now had a good size lump on my chin along with swollen glands and swelling on my face and neck, and quite painful. I quickly made an appointment with my internist who sent me to in Infectious Disease Specialist. It was an emotional day as I had to retell my weird "lump history" of the past 2 months that no one can give me any answers to. The specialist was unable, yet again, to culture it (UGH!)- but seemed certain I had MRSA and gave me another antibiotic to take.

I went home, continuing to pack while my face, neck, and head throbbed. I was hopeful I would wake up Thursday morning with less swelling and pain- didn't happen. I, instead, awoke Thursday to the exact opposite- I tried to do so much between having to lay down because of the pain. (In the middle of all of this, Tenly had an accident at school and was so emotional I went to pick her up.)

By the time Lupe arrived home, I was considering going to the ER- as absurd as that seemed on so many levels.We still had to pack up the kitchen, clothes, and all of the other loose ends- and needed more boxes to do so. As much as I tried to get around it, I finally made the arrangements for a friend to come pick me up so Lupe could stay with the girls and get as much done as possible with no boxes.

The doctor wasn't exactly thrilled with my being there. He thought I should of waited longer than 30 hours to give the antibiotics time to work- but my face was at least 40% more swollen and the pain had increased beyond 75%- I didn't care! They ran blood work, and ultimately they admitted me to give me antibiotics by IV to kick out the infection.

Part of me was relieved, the other part was overwhelmed with guilt and responsibility. I was relieved that we would get to the bottom of this never ending unwelcome infection that had been haunting me for 2 months!But....Who was going to take care of the girls? Who was going to be there for the cable/Internet hook up? Who was going to finish packing? Who was going to boss the guys around to tell them where to put everything? Who was going to organize everything? Who was going to take/pick up Tenly for school? Who was going to be sure Lupe was going to be okay?

We decided Tenly would stay home from school (the first day she missed), and my brother, who was helping to move, was bringing my niece, Maya, and nephew, Emry, to help (which made my girls not miss me at all)- who did an EXCEPTIONAL job! A couple of guys from the church were also coming to help. (I think we will forever be indebted, especially after they had to move our 2-ton couch!)

The first night in the hospital went with no sleep and vomiting all night due to the pain, then dehydration, and the strong pain meds. Then I began having an allergic reaction to one of the antibiotics, and we wrapped up my hospital stay 2 days later with a severe migraine (I felt I came in with one thing wrong, and left with more). All 3 doctors are still convinced that I have MRSA, and a suppressed immune system- nothing to prove it except the consensus of 3 doctors thinking the same thing. They wanted a plastic surgeon to cut it open, but no one would come in on a weekend.

Anyway, my brother and Debbie took the girls overnight so Lupe could finish moving the rest of the stuff- that was a HUGE blessing! Not to mention, the girls came back saying it was "..the best day ever.."- apparently it was especially funny when Uncle Bubbo (what they call my brother) hit Aunt Debbie with a stick. LOL!

I finally came home, very thankful for my incredible friends and family who prayed, cared, stayed at the hospital, text encouraging thoughts, brainstormed, left messages, kept our children, lifted a 2 ton couch up and down stairs, etc. I wish we had more to give, but we say Thank You and are blessed to have you.

I am now almost done unpacking boxes while my face continues to heal (it's closer to normal). Although, I'm not fond of my too small kitchen, and inconvenient closet- I am thankful I am in a home with my family (and for the wonderful storage closet). I am started to embrace and understand that saying "Home is where your Heart is".

Please pray that this "lump" was the last. I do not understand why this is happening, and have struggled to keep positive throughout. But, I do know things could be worse- and it is gone- Thank You for continuing to pray that this is the last and I am completely healed!

Tired of Dealing With Stupid Numbers!

The other day I went to do a little shopping (I ended up with nothing to do and had no children)at my favorite second hand store, Plato's Closet,which is right around the corner. I saw a pair of pants my "size"- whatever that is! (Now I'm struggling with saying what size I actually wear, but here goes nothing...) You see, I've been a size 7/8 or 9/10 for many years now. A 9/10 is often a bit loose, but it's better- no safer- to get that size than to get the 7/8 and have it not fit. When it doesn't fit- my brain goes into overload and I begin to obsess and get almost depressed- so I find myself often getting a 9/10 to be safe. You would think I'd just try it on, right? Well, I hate trying on stuff and I feel 'safer' trying on in my own home (crazy, I know). So, I found these cute jeans- they were a 9/10- so the mind game began- "..do I get it or look for a 7/8? No, if I get a 7/8 it will probably be to tight! But, what if these are to big? No, they wont be to big, I'm sure I've probably gained a few pounds and they'll fit perfectly...". I bought the jeans, I tried them on when I arrived home... and THEY'RE TO BIG! As long as I wear a belt they're okay- but a 7/8 would of been perfect! Here's my "big deal" with this:

Later that night I was so frustrated with myself! Why am I still battling this? I hate comparing myself to other women all the time, I see a woman and think to myself "Is that about the size I am?" or  "Is that what I look like to other people?" or "I wish I could look like that!". I saw myself in a picture recently, and was a bit shocked! I couldn't believe that I didn't look heavier- I actually looked pretty slender. It may be weird not to be able to truly see yourself in the mirror- but I really don't see "me"- my size- when I look in the mirror. The way I looked in the mirror when I was my most comfortable 3/4-5/6 really does not look any different than I do now at a 7/8-9/10.
Great strides have been made over the years: I do not have to weigh backwards anymore at the doctors office anymore, I even get onto the scale on occasion and don't really freak out, I do not obsess over food, I do not lay awake at night counting calories. As great as these things are- I don't want to compare myself to others and tumble inward when I see someone I am envious of. I want to look in the mirror and see ME and like what I see. Of course, these are all things that SO many women want also. I would also love for "my girls" to sit a little higher and perkier, my once flat/tight tummy to be flat/tight again, for my thighs and butt to stop jiggling once I've stopped moving- it's funny that I don't obsess over these (as much as I'd love to have them) but I continue to let those stupid numbers (size and weight) get to me!

Anyway, I have come a very long way with my battle with numbers and my weight. The weight I am now- I do not LOVE, but I am content with it. The fact that I'm a Diabetic on insulin makes it twice as hard to lose this last 10 pounds- so I'm okay with it. I'm struggling right now with whether I should say "the" number in this post. There was a time several friends and I were standing around all talking/complaining about our weight- 2 of my friends were much heavier than the rest of us- one of them finally spoke up and pointed out how much she would love to be the size of any of us and we should all consider ourselves blessed not to be fighting her battle. She was right! The fact that I struggle with these things in my head annoys me- because I am not fighting even a quarter of the battle of many others- I feel so selfish and guilty for fighting this battle in my mind.

Over the years, especially after having 2 girls, I have become very cautious of my words. I strive to never use the words "diet" or "fat and skinny"- I always want my family's goal to be on maintaining a healthy lifestyle. I am always keeping myself in check on this one- sometimes failing miserably!

After my little check at Plato's the other day, I realized I still having a battle going on in my mind. I am on a mission to rediscover ME and The ME God has created ME to be! So, according to Romans 12:2 I have to renew my mind and that happens through The Word. So, I am going to start being a little more aggressive in declaring "Who I Am In Christ"- because I know I was not created to be insecure, depressed, self centered, and selfish. In order to make a real difference, I have to become comfortable with me.

As I began typing this, I almost put "the number" in here about 6 times- and just couldn't do it. I was really hoping by the end I'd be able to do it, but I just can't YET! Hopefully, very soon I will be able to put that number on my blog and feel really good about it- not because it would be my "perfect" number, but because I'm okay with whatever that number may be- because that number does not define me.