11/31/03
My first day back at work, I spend the day going through emails. I had over 3600 emails, of which 3250 were spam. Not to many people stop by to talk to me and actually, I didn’t feel much like talking to a lot of people so that worked out well. I stay the whole day without doing much except email.
No one had called me a week later so I was moving away from obsession and worry just due to time passing, when on Wed. the 12th - my first day at work - they called me to see if I could go in THAT Friday for the upper and lower GI series. I choked emotionally, feeling I had no time to prepare AGAIN - how can they keep doing this sort of thing to me - and wanted to say no. But the next available date they had was in December. I was able to make the arrangements to make it happen so I could get it over with. I had lots of stress over this. I just put one foot in front of the other. I gave myself a progress stick - in 2 days this will be all over. There wasn’t much time to think about it. My Dad was arriving that Friday evening, so I had to call and fill him in. I did all the grocery shopping I needed to do that very evening, since Thursday at noon was my last real meal. They faxed me instructions at work - that was weird to worry that someone at work would know I was getting a colonoscopy. If I had to use words I used Upper and Lower GI series - or just GI tests. I think there are a lot people (me included previous to this) who don’t know exactly what that is, but have an idea, but don’t really want more than idea what GI tests consist of. Of course one of the faxed pages had COLONOSCOPY INSTRUCTIONS right across the top. Anyhow - I picked up groceries for my clear liquid diet as well. Much better and more manageable than fasting. I could have clear liquids until 2 hours before the procedure. I also had to pick up the bowel prep. Not 2 words you really want to hear in the same sentence. This was one of the bonuses. The internet said that you had to mix this prep stuff with a gallon of water and drink it all in 1-2 hours. Now I know what it was like to drink a half gallon of the barium stuff for the cat scan in an hour. I couldn’t imagine getting twice as much down in the same time. And taking twice as long - I expected you’d be totally split between sipping and running to the bathroom. The bonus was, the liquid was only 1.5 ounces and only had to be mixed with 4 ounces of water and followed by an 8 ounce glass of water. A much better option.
On Thursday at work I read some more email in detail that I needed to pay attention to and work on my benefits enrollment. I eat my last pre-procedure lunch. I learn that Fletcher Allen is insisting they will not renew the contract with CIGNA who is my medical insurer. Oh boy. That would not be good. I think about when I paid for and seldom used my insurance. I’m sure I am now one of those people they do not like. Rates are going up again this year, but not anywhere near what they have covered for costs. I change our dental insurance to a higher better coverage since Rob and I are now needing caps and crowns and things like that. Poor Rob had a quarter of one of his molars fall out very recently. I leave early for a massage and do not go back to work. I am home early and treat myself to broth which I like. I think how a clear liquid diet is so much better than fasting. I think I could last a long time on a clear liquid diet if I needed to.
At 7pm precisely, I get the first dosage of prep. It tasted very salty. Better than the barium, but perhaps only because there was so little of it. Quick acting too. The worst was over in 3 hours - 3 long hours. Bonus number 2 because the web said you could be up all night. This whole thing will be over in 24 hours. I was thankful I could rest that night. I was exhausted (hee hee I almost wrote pooped out from habit but that was too much). Taking the second dose in the morning was harder because I was just feeling like I was recovering and this would start it all over again. In 12 hours this will all be over. I drink the stuff. That’s all I needed the do. No going back once I drink it.
Friday morning, I realize I should clean the house a bit, since my father is coming to visit this weekend, so I spend my morning doing that in between runs to the bathroom. I took the stuff at 5:15 so by 9am things had quieted down a bit. Cleaning keeps me occupied and my mind off from the tests. I’m ready to go when Mom shows up. I still have some diarrhea and I am getting nervous as we leave so it seems worse. I know I can make it to the hospital, but I worry that I will have an accident during one of the procedures. I assume they are used to this, but I can’t help feeling embarrassed and even more embarrassed about the whole procedure. But it’s still the endoscopy that is giving me the biggest psychological worry. I focus on the next task which is getting to the hospital. Ok - I can do that and the good thing is, the pooping is pretty much over. Some people said that was the worst part and I survived that, although my poor bum is sore and I think we should consider buying softer toilet tissue from now on. I get the chance to worry that not only is someone going to see my bum up close and personal, but my bum is in sad sore shape. Man o’ man - add insult to injury. I wonder a bit why anyone would want to be the kind of doctor that does procedures like this? I consider that the innards of our bodies perform some very interesting key functions and if it can save someone’s life I am thankful there are people who are interested.
We make it through the check-in and find our way to the waiting area where there is a sign saying if the nurse doesn’t find you in 10 minutes, use the phone to call someone to tell them you’re here. We wait about 20 minutes. I don’t want to wait. I want to get this over. 4 hours and this will be all over. 4 hours. I get more anxious as I sit there and wait, because I’m just, well, waiting. Then the check-in nurse calls me and I stop hearing what she is saying when she says that someone needs to be in the waiting area at 3:30 and 4:40. What they told me was to arrive at 1:40 and someone needed to be there to pick me up at 4:40. Now I am hearing this much more complicated schedule with more requirements for my guardian. I am ready to scream that I am just getting this information now as I am about to go in for the procedure. My voice is getting louder and the nurse is not understanding my question. She tells me the schedule again which is not answering my question as to why someone is needed at 3:30. “Your prep begins at 2:10, you’re scheduled with the doctor at 2:30, at 3:30 someone should be in the waiting area and you’re be done around 4:30 - yes that’s right.” I don’t care at that point and I can’t process what she is saying. My Mom is trying to reassure me that she will be there at 3:30. I finally get out of the nurse that the Dr. may want to talk to someone at 3:30. Then I am REALLY annoyed that they didn’t tell me this before, so that we could have planned for Rob to be there. I am more aggravated because they could have shared this schedule with me and I wouldn’t have been sitting there just waiting until some mystery next step happens at some random future, but soon time. People are looking and trying not to look at us by then. I know I am getting nowhere and there is no point, so I give up, shut up and go on. But now I’ve lost whatever control I had over my worry and anxiety and I am doing everything I can not to cry. This lady takes me to a small prep room and tells me to get all undressed except for my socks. I do NOT want to get undressed. I don’t want anyone to touch me or do anything to me. I want them all to just go away. I have to go to the bathroom again. I inform the new nurse who comes in. Or more demand or something in between. She was very nice to me despite my stressful behavior. She tells me she will be putting in my IV and another nurse comes in to take my medical history. Later I wonder if I had 2 nurses because I got so upset with the admitting nurse. I hope they will start drugs soon so maybe I will feel better. I almost yell at the nurse doing the IV in my hand because it hurts and then it continues to hurt even after I said it hurt (She wasn’t done yet). And then it was in place and she told me she was done and there was no more needle in my hand. I very curtly said “ok thank you” and she said “you’re welcome” and I was ok. She was very patient and sweet to me. I don’t think I was very nice. I ask them to please tell me truth about the sedation and what I would know was going on during the procedure. I tell them how scared I am and what I am scared about. They reassure me with several comments but specifically say something practical which helps me cope with the last pre-test half hour - that the medication has to work well enough so that I am relaxed enough for them to be able to do the procedures. I still want to cry, find out I’m only getting a saline drip right now and man does this suck. I consider I could still walk out, but now someone would have to remove the IV and I probably won’t get much luck getting help with that right now. I do feel a teeny tiny bit better. I say out loud - “only 3 hours left” (the information I had before was that it would take about 3 hours). “Oh No” they say - “3 hours? You’ll be done in an hour, hour and half.” Now why didn’t someone tell me that earlier - AHHHHHHH. That piece of information would have helped. Another nurse - I’ll call her the surgical nurse, brings me into the procedure room where I climb onto the gurney bed thing. They have the colonoscopy machine all laid out ready and all I can think is oh my God I did not need to see that and how long it is. I could have lived without seeing it and I think how insensitive it is to the patient to have it all laid out like that in plain view. The nurse tries to make me feel better by telling me that it’s made to accommodate the longest colons. Eww. Ok. Not much better. I spy around to see if I can see the endoscopy thingy, which I can’t identify and think that might be a good thing. But there are 2 monitors on either side of the room. I really don’t want to see what’s happening on the inside either. I just want this to all be over. I talk with the surgical nurse and realize I am babbling from stress. I tell her I hope she doesn’t mind if I ramble and talk because it makes me feel better. She says she doesn’t mind. She mentions that she’s never had a colonoscopy but that she’s almost 50 and will need to have one then. I did read something about this - that the test is part of the suggested tests after age 50. Guess I wouldn’t have escaped the test anyway and I do find a small comfort in that thought. I ask the nurse her name and she tells me her name is Jean. She comes and goes over the next 15 minutes or so and I struggle not to cry when I am laying there alone. My feet are sweating because I’m nervous and I wish I had worn thinner socks. When Jean is there, I talk so that I don’t cry.
Finally the doctor comes in. He is factual going through things with me as if he’s done this a zillion times. I hope that makes him an expert at it. I ask him questions as he talks and I tell him what my fears and anxiety are. He tells me how quickly the procedures will be over. This is even better than what the nurses told me earlier because he told me the colonoscopy would only be about 20 minutes or less, and the endoscopy only takes about 10 minutes. OK I can live with that. I can do almost anything for 30 minutes, and with this I get a change in what I have to deal with. He tells me he’s even completed a colonoscopy in 10 minutes on occasion if everything goes really well. Hmmm - I wonder what it takes to do it that quickly, if there are any negatives or compromises to achieve a faster time and if doctor’s actually compare these kind of statistics. He tells me they will start with the colonoscopy because that the most likely place they will find something. If they do find something, they will stop there and not do the endoscopy. That might save me one procedure. I am still very stressed and he has to repeat this to me twice because I’m not processing information well and I don’t understand why they would only do one of the procedures when both were ordered. Once I get it, I am a little hopeful that I will only need to undergo one of these awful tests, until I realize that if they only do one, it means that they found something. Don’t want that. It rather sucks to find myself hoping I will need to undergo both tests. I am relieved to learn he has a good understanding of what brought me here. I worried beforehand about a lot of things - like what if the person doing the test just thinks it’s routine and they don’t know to look for something that would be specific to me and perhaps unusual. Then he starts talking about polyps and if he finds any he’ll remove them since they’re there already and that would slow down the procedure some. OH WAIT - what’s he’s talking about. My voice goes up a notch as I try to say in a way that contains this new stress that I don’t know anything about polyps, what they are, why they need to be removed and if that effects or changes my recovery. During the conversation I remember being acutely aware of the heart monitor beeping from the little finger monitor. It seemed to be going quite fast and loud. He explains to me very patiently and I am ok with the explanation that most people get these in the colon at some point in their lives, that they often turn into cancer so it’s important to remove them, and that’s why colonoscopy’s are recommended after age 50. He also said he would expect someone my age to have only small ones if any. Then I have to sign the risk sheet and there is “dialation” at the end of the potential procedures so then I have to ask about that. He tells me what it is, says they don’t need to do it and crosses it off. I tell him how the last time I signed something like this with the potential ‘oh maybe just in a worst case” items, that they did all those potential things. I do not take these possibilities lightly anymore. I want to understand what they are before I sign, which I do. And that’s it. Prep and conversation are over. I have to roll over on my left side and I want to cry again. Finally the meds are injected. I notice they only give me half the syringe full and I hope they are not giving me a little and then if I need more giving me a little more. I would rather they go into a definite effect amount right off the bat. Somehow I keep thinking I might know more than these people who are trained and do these things all the time. I remember thinking as they injected the drugs into the IV why people inject drugs - because it hits so much more quickly and fully. Something to be thankful for today. With a warning message, the procedure begins, and though I am slightly aware I am distant from what is going on. I have a slight pull to awareness and see the internal images on the tv screen above me and to the left come into focus. I am still distant and in my memory of the event I can hear myself talking about the images and how interesting they are and how I didn’t think I would want to see them but they are really interesting. I believe I kept talking about the images, perhaps repeating myself. I remember a few moments of discomfort. I was aware of it, but still distant from it. Aware enough comment that it hurt and to seize a memory of some pain being associated with a sharp corner in the colon and to blurt out “Oh is that that corner? “ I recall a noncommittal response from the doctor “I don’t know maybe”. This recollection I take a sign that I was talking a lot and the doctor was answering me but not paying much attention - as you would to someone who was spewing forth drug induced comments. And then they told me that part was all done. I heard the doctor say to give me an extra 15 mgs of drugs - oh good round two meds. I wonder now if that’s because I talked too much and that just wouldn’t do for the endoscopy or if he was taking sympathy on me for my comments of being afraid of the endoscopy. Either way - all I remember is them spraying some stuff in my throat to make it numb. There is a second memory of them spraying a second time, and it woke me up a bit. I recall a cold liquid accumulating on both sides of the back of my mouth or the top of my throat and I had a thought that if it was numbing spray maybe if was medicine like and I shouldn’t swallow it. The next thought was that I they wouldn’t let it accumulate to be swallowed if it wasn’t safe, so I did and I also believe with no clear memory that someone told me yes l should swallow it. In my afterwards conscious mind I have a feeling that this swallowing memory was really the endoscopy tube. Partly because of the same sensation on both sides and because the feeling the pooling liquid seems suspiciously like I would expect cold metal to feel. I’ve rolled this over and over thinking there must be a bit more memory behind what I do remember and trying dredge it up to answer my question if my suspicion is correct. The other part of me that didn’t want to know about the procedure wonders why I would even want to go there. I think now that I know I have survived without being traumatized for life that it might be ok to know or remember what it was like when it actually happened. More of a draw is what I remember versus what I think I might actually be remembering. And is my perception correct. Regardless, next I know I am waking up in recovery. My Mom is there with me. There are other people around also recovering behind their little curtains. I am quite talkative and I believe awake although feeling a little drugged. The nurses come to talk to us and I think I am aware enough to handle all the primary information, paperwork and questions. But I can only remember that I had questions when I read the diagnosis and not what the questions are. My patient mother writes everything down for me and makes sure that we remember to ask the nurse when she comes back. Rob arrives soon after - their timing for when I would be done was pretty accurate. He didn’t have to wait, came right to the bedside in recovery. I am proud that I have survived and that I made it through emotionally and I am glad that it wasn’t as bad as I imagined. I want to share my experience and do, although I don’t think either my Mom or Rob really wanted to hear about it. The report they give me has digital pictures at the top, which no one really wants to see except me. Even though they are interesting, they aren’t as interesting today as they were that day. Drugs can change everything. I desperately want something to drink, but it’s too soon yet. I have to wait until 5:00 which I so much time after the procedure. I keep forgetting what time I can have something so I keep asking when it was I could have something to drink. When 5:00 arrives, I have some little sips of water as instructed until I know that it will stay down ok. Soon I am up and dressed and ready to go home. Sipping sipping on water is really good. My Mom left a little earlier and Rob pushes me down to the lobby in a wheel chair. We make it home in good shape and I actually feel pretty good despite everything. I am surprised that I have as much energy as I do. The same was true of surgery. I was energetic that day after and didn’t crash until later. I don’t think I crashed from this - I didn’t have many after effects and I am thankful for that. I am also thankful that I left that day with a copy of my results report stating that the tests were pretty normal. They found some internal hemorrhoids - which I remember stating probably too loudly to Rob in recovery that someone finally cares about my itchy bum (this has been an odd running joke over the last month or so). They also found some diverticula’s which they gave me an information sheet on and are nothing to worry about. From the other test - my stomach was they did a biopsy but that was nothing significant and could be due to stress or meds - not that I’ve much of either of those lately (Sarcasm). I am glad to know that I am normal and in good health. Despite this original tumor I seem to be showing up in good health with all these tests.
Rob goes hunting that Saturday and my Dad and I hang out. We go to breakfast at Papa Nick’s, go to Best Buy and Costco. We call Julie kind of as a joke to see if she needs anything at Costco. She laughs at the joke, but when we leave and are back on the road there is a message from her to look for these blue sponge scrubby things. Too late. At Best Buy I buy a DVD VCR combo for our bedroom. Yeah! TV in the bedroom is the worst bad habit and I love it. I wouldn’t give it up for the world. Saturday night we have dinner at home and all go to bed around 8:30 9:00. We were all exhausted. In the morning we go out to dinner at the Country Kitchen with Derik and Lauren. We had mentioned going to the Middlebury Inn but decide against it. Derik and Lauren are disappointed by this I think. I get the most wonderful tasting French toast for breakfast. Dad heads out after that. It was a pretty quiet visit. He did find a couple of handy man things to take a look at - the kitchen faucet water pressure and the handle on the shower faucet. Neither one was fixed, but I am happy to learn that we can fix the shower water. I just thought it was me. I had mentioned I wanted to walk that Saturday thinking we might go to the mall where I could walk inside. Instead, Dad parked as far away from the Costco door as we could. A different approach, but the same effect.
The next week 11/17/03 - it’s the week before Thanksgiving. Monday I call Dr. Wong’s office to find out what’s next. I talk to him that evening and we don’t get much further, but I ask more questions as usual. He needs to see the test results and send something to Dr. Greenblatt so that I can have an appointment with him. At work, I put in a request to take my 2 floating holidays on 11/21 and Dec 5. With Thanksgiving in between, that will give me 4 short weeks in a row and more of a chance to recover. I don’t do much at work this week either. I take a couple of long lunches and leave a little bit early a couple of days as well. I am glad to have it be a short if uneventful week. I have another massage on Thursday. They are beginning to help and the neck and mid back pain are significantly better. For the first time in months my neck feels loose and fluid. I am trying every day, or almost everyday to do some kind of exercise. I walk, swim one day, do some yoga. All these seem to help a lot. I include things like painting at home because they are activity I am unaccustomed to. I am bound and determined to get healthy and build my strength back up. I am eating all the time now and need to stop. I am eating more than I want now, as if it’s become habit. I promise myself I will stop this after Thanksgiving.
During the weekend I decide on paint colors for the kitchen and dining room. I paint underneath the cupboards and really like the new color. I get Becky and Rob to help paint the ceiling upstairs. This has been a daunting work stopping task for me because the ceilings in the hall, living room, dining room, kitchen and living room are all connected. We do all the ceiling but the living room. YEAH! After several months I can move on and paint walls. That’s good because I am tired of looking at the unfinished walls that were under the wallpaper.
I am working hard on my mental state to vanquish my physical problems. I had a big arthritis flare up the last couple of weeks. Some odd things also - like my left big toe being very swollen and sore on the bottom. And my right forearm being swollen. I visualize that my arthritis is moving it’s way out of my body moving from the middle outward. I use the muscle treat every day and it seems to be helping. I am taking my vitamins again and also the perna plus. I can feel that I have blocks in my body. And they are often where the pain has settled. I am doing a lot of visualization and sensing. In my legs and trunk and arms I need to visualize. My hands I can sense. I try to breath deeply and into the areas that are blocked or sore. This seems to be working. I also notice when I walk that my muscles are beginning to feel like they are working intentionally and not just automatically. That the muscle is actually working. I’m not sure how to explain this, but it’s happened to me before when I was exercising regularly. Regardless, I believe the visualization is working and I am glad for that.
Torry is here for Thanksgiving and I go up to Mom’s for dinner on Tuesday. Thursday we have Thanksgiving dinner there. Derik and Lauren also come. I beat Torry at a game of chess and then he gets serious and whips me at the next game. Mom sends all her carbohydrate food home with us so that she can start back on her diet without the temptation. Torry heads to Connecticut on Friday and stops at the house on his way through. I wish that he lived closer. He seems tired and for the first time I hear him say he is feeling old. He misery much into photography these days. He bought a $500 camera when he was here. I guess once again, I discover he is better off than I think he might be. I tell him so, since I’ve heard him repeatedly talk about having been out of work for 6 months. He can’t be that bad if he’s spending that kind of money on a camera. He wants to move further away from D.C. He said his house is falling apart. I think he would be happier if he was farther out, but I think he would have to drive a lot further.
Friday I am home alone. Rob is working and Becky is at her mother’s. It’s a busy day though. I made turkey stock, cleaned the house, did laundry, made lunch and went had lunch with Rob. I spend some time writing in my journal and my Mom came down. I think one day a week is needed at home just to chores and then we should still have 2 more days for other things. I suppose a house keeper could alleviate that problem. I’d like to think more about that and talk to Rob. I think it would be a good idea and well worth it. I wonder what it would cost.
On Saturday I paint most of the rest of the kitchen walls, dining room and hallway. I am soooo glad to have this almost done. I don’t like the color as much as I thought I would. In the grey weather and at night, it looks like it has brown in it. Ahh well, I am sticking with it now. All that’s left in that area now is above the cabinets. That won’t take long, but I couldn’t bring myself to finish it. I’vejust had enough painting for this weekend. I am thinking that next Friday I will do the living room and be done with it. After that there’s the stairwell where I’ve been picking at the wallpaper with no way to get high enough to actually take it all down. That’s been like that for over a year now because I couldn’t leave it alone. It’s been really nice to do something that is actually DOING something. I needed that. And I think it helped reconnect me to being “normal”. I still haven’t heard anything from any doctor’s in almost a week now. I suppose I should be patient, but you know - this things has been going on for 2 months now. I would like some closure of some kind, some decision. I don’t know where to put head about it. With the time passing, I am just moving on and it is fading somewhat.
I decided that I am going to write a book about death called “Living to Death”. I’ve had lots of thoughts about this. There has been so much death around me in the last couple of years. I even sometimes wonder if there is something cursed about the building we are in at work because there have been so many illnesses and deaths for so many people. Not just people their, but the their family and friends too. That’s too far fetched I think, but never in my life has there been so much death about me. Could be just getting older. In the last week, my bosses very good friend lost a son in Iraq and Julie‘s brother Douglas died. Just died sleeping. With my own recent experience I wanted to write about it, learn about it, research it and share with others. And then this weekend when I was listening to the radio all day while I was painting, every song had to do with all the things that I have been thinking about. They are about love, loss, death, separation, living, God. I came back around the circle to how we’re all the same and looking for the same things, hoping for the same things, asking the same questions. How can we all feel so alone and be so much the same and different at the same time. As I think about all this, I come to realize that my misconception has been that we come here and we stay for a long time until we are very old and unlucky people die early. That is not the truth. The truth is that we come here and we live UNTIL WE DON’T ANYMORE. That’s it, just until we don’t. I know this is no secret. I know people talk about this all the time. I know we are told over and over to live in the moment and to make every day count. I thought I understood. I didn’t believe it. I believe it now. And the result is that I want to spend my time doing what I want - doing things that matter, doing things that are peaceful and simple. I want to do what I want. After all - there isn’t enough time to do anything else. Now what I need to do is transition. I know that there are a million things that I could do differently. I am waiting and watching to see what will come to me. Today I feel that the answer is closer. Or perhaps I am just closer to making a decision to change my life.
That’s another message that’s been coming through to me. That change happens all the time. That it seems sometimes great or big or difficult. That sometimes we avoid it because it seems too hard or unachievable. But change often comes without our doing or not doing, whether we want it to come or not. And we move through it because we have to. Because we are alive and we continue to live. Birth and death are two of the greatest changes like this. We have no descriptions of the experience of birth nor do we remember the birth process. It’s one of the most wonderous events of our lives, but we have no recollection other than from observers and our mothers. This perhaps is one of the reasons that women are revered and in particular our mother’s are honored. And we have no recalled choice in being here. Some would say make this choice before we come here. That we do know or that it is ordained. That would make this event a transition. The same is true of death. We have no control, if we exclude suicide. We can do things to improve our chances, like stay healthy, but that is no guarantee. Our experience of death is as the people left behind. There are people who tell of their near death experiences, but we don’t know whether to believe them or not. Recently I read something that said that when people die they go exactly where they expect to go.
I was feeling very alone and like I had a lot to discover. There were messages for me everywhere this week. There was a lot about death. Or maybe I’m just noticing and I didn’t notice before. One thought I’ve had is that if the end result of my life is death, if that’s where I am going, why am I not preparing for it? How do I prepare? No one teaches me how to prepare. Do other cultures teach people how to prepare? Is it a final stage or a transition? Would it be so different from everything else? Could it be? So much focus goes into how we live. Is it really the same thing? I believe we should live every moment fully. Is that all it takes? I think I’d like to know what other people think. What do religions tell us? What do cultures tell us? What’s the history of it? This could be a lifelong study couldn’t it? If I choose to write about death, do I want to write a documentary, a journal or stories?
What a challenge to find something wonderful in every day. What a burden. What a responsibility. Surrounded by a sea of meaninglessness, how and where does a person look? In some moments it is obvious. In other moments it seems impossible. Right now it seems impossible. It seems difficult to change my life. Where to begin. And does it really matter or can I make the most of whatever my life is. It will continue to be, until it’s not. And I can do or not do. It all seems so simple and so complicated at the same time. I cannot change without direction. That would be pointless. I have this quote recently: “If we don’t change our direction, we’ll end up where we’re heading.” How true. And then one that goes something like this “ Lord Ronald flung himself from the room, onto his horse and road off in all directions.” That is how I feel recently. Just get away - run - go. But where to?
Money - I need make money. I like to have money. I like to have a lot of money. Despite the fact that I despise that money has such an impact on our lives, I am going to go along with the prosperity books that it’s ok to be prosperous and therefore it’s ok to be financially acceptable.
Insurance - Medical insurance is important to me right now. I will keep this as part of what I need.
Time - I don’ want to spend most of my time at work. I want work to be enjoyable. I want to follow my bliss as Joseph Campbell says. What the heck is my bliss?????? And how do I make lots of money at it? Is it possible that I haven’t found it yet or am I just missing it? How can I say the same thing for soooo many years and not have a clue. OH - wait I learned something. I am experiential. That is a big part of how I value something. I need to define the experience I want. But I would also like a destination. I want to love something. No I want to LOVE something that I do. I want passion about something. What do I have passion about?
MY “I LOVE LIST”
Talking to people
Connecting with people and sharing experiences
Organizing
Music and singing-Lyrics I connect with
Leraning
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