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GOSSIP AND BULLYING

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

Gossip has been a part of our culture for years. We have all taken part in it in some way or another. We think nothing of it like it’s a natural part of being humans, but gossip is a form of bullying. Many people’s lives are ruined by this form of bullying. The victims of gossip are hurt emotionally and sometimes physically by a false tale spread by many.

I was told by an ex-employee of my workplace that the boss’s girlfriend left him. So, when I went to work the next day, I asked a fellow employee if it was true. Next thing I knew she was telling other employees and then she told the boss. Before I knew it my boss took me aside to lecture me about passing rumors. I felt bad. I didn’t mean for it to become a rumor, but it did. I realized after I was lectured that I should have asked the boss or just let it go until it was verified by him or his girlfriend who came in regularly.

In the small town I live in there was a rumor that one of the town women was cheating on her husband. The rumor soon became that she was seeing several men. The rumor kept growing and in time the couple’s marriage fell apart. After the damage was done the truth came out that she never cheated on her husband, but instead was hanging out with some of her women friends. I can’t imagine how hurt the woman was by a lie that destroyed her marriage. She was probably not only hurt by the gossip, but also by her husband not trusting her. The husband was probably hurt too by being led to believe his wife was betraying him.

Gossip starts with someone telling one person something they heard and then it gets passed around. As it gets passed around, it changes and grows into something worse. Bullying is a form of abuse that is repeated physically, verbally, or socially. Verbal bullying is the repetition of mean things being said. Gossip is where a truth or lie is turned into something false and repeated continually until it grows into something awful. The rumors hurt a person’s wellbeing and are repeated, making it a form of bullying.

When I worked in the bakery, the ladies told me different stories about how the Greek lady who worked with us faked her accent to appear innocent and turned around and stabbed them in the back. I was told stories of mean things she did to them. Each person made her sound worse. When I got to know her, I realized that they were passing rumors that were not true. Her accent was real, and she had interesting stories to tell about her culture. I found her to be kind and caring. What the other ladies said about her were all lies. In time the rumors and the way she was treated hurt her so badly that she ended up leaving.

We should never pass around anything that is told to us, especially if it’s told in confidence. We should also never believe what is told about a person until we confirm whether it’s true or not with the person it’s about. If you hear something about a person don’t repeat it. If you do, you become one of the bullies.

Gossip happens in schools, communities, workplaces, and even in churches. It’s up to us to put an end to it. We must stand up and say stop passing things that are not true and stop believing things we hear from others instead of the person, him or herself. Let the gossip stop with you.

You teach your children with different parenting methods, but also by your own actions. If you go around spreading gossip, then your child sees it and thinks it’s okay. So, he or she goes to school and passes rumors. Sometimes bullies are created by their parents. Be an inspiration to your children, teach them to always be kind, and practice what you teach. Teach your children about gossip and not to pass things around that are told to them. Teach them to always look for the truth.

There is a lot of gossip going around where I work. I don’t pass around what I hear, and I find out the truth before believing what I am told. By standing up against bullying and its different forms like gossip, I stand tall in the light of recovery.

GOSSIP AND BULLYING

Gossip has been a part of our culture for years. We have all taken part in it in some way or another. We think nothing of it like it’s a natural part of being humans, but gossip is a form of bullying. Many people’s lives are ruined by this form of bullying. The victims of gossip are hurt emotionally and sometimes physically by a false tale spread by many.

I was told by an ex-employee of my workplace that the boss’s girlfriend left him. So, when I went to work the next day, I asked a fellow employee if it was true. Next thing I knew she was telling other employees and then she told the boss. Before I knew it my boss took me aside to lecture me about passing rumors. I felt bad. I didn’t mean for it to become a rumor, but it did. I realized after I was lectured that I should have asked the boss or just let it go until it was verified by him or his girlfriend who came in regularly.

In the small town I live in there was a rumor that one of the town women was cheating on her husband. The rumor soon became that she was seeing several men. The rumor kept growing and in time the couple’s marriage fell apart. After the damage was done the truth came out that she never cheated on her husband, but instead was hanging out with some of her women friends. I can’t imagine how hurt the woman was by a lie that destroyed her marriage. She was probably not only hurt by the gossip, but also by her husband not trusting her. The husband was probably hurt too by being led to believe his wife was betraying him.

Gossip starts with someone telling one person something they heard and then it gets passed around. As it gets passed around, it changes and grows into something worse. Bullying is a form of abuse that is repeated physically, verbally, or socially. Verbal bullying is the repetition of mean things being said. Gossip is where a truth or lie is turned into something false and repeated continually until it grows into something awful. The rumors hurt a person’s wellbeing and are repeated, making it a form of bullying.

When I worked in the bakery, the ladies told me different stories about how the Greek lady who worked with us faked her accent to appear innocent and turned around and stabbed them in the back. I was told stories of mean things she did to them. Each person made her sound worse. When I got to know her, I realized that they were passing rumors that were not true. Her accent was real, and she had interesting stories to tell about her culture. I found her to be kind and caring. What the other ladies said about her were all lies. In time the rumors and the way she was treated hurt her so badly that she ended up leaving.

We should never pass around anything that is told to us, especially if it’s told in confidence. We should also never believe what is told about a person until we confirm whether it’s true or not with the person it’s about. If you hear something about a person don’t repeat it. If you do, you become one of the bullies.

Gossip happens in schools, communities, workplaces, and even in churches. It’s up to us to put an end to it. We must stand up and say stop passing things that are not true and stop believing things we hear from others instead of the person, him or herself. Let the gossip stop with you.

You teach your children with different parenting methods, but also by your own actions. If you go around spreading gossip, then your child sees it and thinks it’s okay. So, he or she goes to school and passes rumors. Sometimes bullies are created by their parents. Be an inspiration to your children, teach them to always be kind, and practice what you teach. Teach your children about gossip and not to pass things around that are told to them. Teach them to always look for the truth.

There is a lot of gossip going around where I work. I don’t pass around what I hear, and I find out the truth before believing what I am told. By standing up against bullying and its different forms like gossip, I stand tall in the light of recovery.

GOOD COMES FROM THE BAD

Published on by Aimee Eddy4 Comments

When struggling with mental illness, we often see nothing but the bad things in our lives. We think the bad will never end and we can’t see past it. What we don’t see is that good comes from the bad things that happen to us. We must struggle until we find life’s positives. The rough times build us up and make us stronger.

My husband’s grandmother raised him and when she got sick, he had to move to a new city to live with his dad. His dad wasn’t the best dad in the world. He put my husband through some rough times. Then years later he was engaged to a woman who died. If he hadn’t moved to a new city and he hadn’t lost his fiancée, we would have never met and have such a beautiful marriage. God saw his struggles and brought him happiness.

I struggled with bullying to be able to write a book to help educate and help others. My book is one of the good things that came out of the abuse I faced in school. Writing the book helped me heal from old wounds. I struggled with mental illness so I can write this blog to reach out to others and help them. I struggled so good could come from it.

Before I met my husband, I was in an abusive relationship. After my partner kicked me out and I spent time in a mental health hospital, I swore I would never date again. I figured I would live with my parents until they passed and then live with one of my siblings. A lady at work insisted I meet this man whose fiancée had died. After a lot of convincing from my therapist and a friend, I agreed on one date. In six months, that man proposed to me. Who knows what would have happened if my ex had never kicked me out? I may have never met the man of my dreams and found happiness.

It’s the circle of life. Everyone goes through bad times and struggles with heartaches. If we look at the rough times and tell ourselves, “I’m struggling now, but in time something good will come out of this,” we just might be able to find hope within the darkness. God carries us through life’s hard times, and he brings us good things. He has plans for us even when we can’t see past our heart aches.

Rough times help us grow stronger and learn lessons. If life were easy, we would never grow into the people we are. Because I struggled with bullying, mental illness, and abuse from a boyfriend, I have become stronger and wiser. I have educated myself about bullying and mental illness. I’ve broken free of my fear of being hurt by others to make many friends. I have grown into a stronger, more compassionate, and determined person. That is something good that came out of the bad.

Right now, my husband and I are struggling financially, and the bills are increasing. I keep reminding myself that good will come to us. This gives me hope. It helps me from falling apart and keeps me above the dark hole.

It’s easy to see life as hopeless when things are going wrong and we are struggling. Try to look at your rough times differently. Try to see that, in time, good will come from your bad times. Better times are in your future, and good things will come your way. We don’t struggle for nothing. We struggle to grow as a person and to find the good in our lives. Maybe your husband leaving you hurts, but in the future, you might find a kinder man who will love you the way you should be loved. Look for the light out of the darkness.

Good things have come from the bad things I have faced in my life. Holding on to the knowledge that God will bring joy from my struggles helps me stand in the light of recovery.

LIFE IS SHORT

Published on by Aimee Eddy2 Comments

Life is too short to waste it on grudges, anger, and arguing with those we love. We take for granted the people we love, especially our parents. We look up to our parents and we forget that someday they may be gone, especially when they are still healthy. The truth is everyone dies at some point, and we don’t know when. Make every moment you have with the people you care about precious.

When my dad was lying in the hospital bed with a vent in his mouth, all I wanted was to hear his voice again. I held his hand and talked to him; he shook his head and squeezed my hand. My mind went back to the times I argued with him over differences of opinions and how I hated to hear him talk about politics. None of that mattered any more. I would have done anything to hear him talk about politics and the stuff I didn’t agree on.

All my arguments with him seemed like I had wasted time. I had often gotten mad at him for lecturing me about eating habits, thinking he wasn’t happy with having an overweight daughter. Now those angry moments were suddenly pointless. He only lectured me because he cared. I realized even though I was an adult, my dad never stopped being a father. His lectures were out of love and not to hurt me. As he lay there fighting for his life, I would have done anything to hear a lecture about healthy eating. All I could hear was the machines hooked to him.

The nurses and doctors said there was a chance he could die. One doctor sat in the waiting room and explained my dad’s condition to my uncle, brother, my brother’s family, my husband, and me. She told us he was in renal failure when he first came to the hospital. She kept saying there’s a chance he won’t make it and a chance he will. I fought to hold in my tears. The thought of my dad dying scared me. I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it, and I didn’t want to.

For all my life my dad has been a healthy, hardworking man. He never let anything slow him down, even when chemo made him tired. I felt like he was invincible, and nothing could stop him. Not even cancer. Then pneumonia in his left lung, with no immune system to fight it, sent him to the brink of death, and my whole world was spinning. All I could do was pray that he would live, and hold his hand and tell him to fight. I asked God each day to spare his life and give me more time with him. I suddenly saw that my dad wasn’t invincible, and he could die.

This whole experience showed me how short life is. It also showed me how important it is to hold my loved ones close and how meaningless it is to argue or get mad at them. Now that my dad’s home, I want to spend as much time with him and my mom as possible. I’m not going to let small things upset me. My dad can talk about politics, lecture me about my unhealthy eating, and disagree with me on things and I will no longer get upset. The small differences will no longer bug me, because God gave me more time with him, and I’m not going to waste it. I’m going to enjoy every minute I have with him and thank God daily for sparing his life.

We’re not promised to live forever, so while your loved ones are alive, hold them tight. Let go of your anger, your grudges, and your disagreements, and show them your love. If you’re not talking to someone you care about, make amends. Making amends will heal broken bonds and your soul. Don’t rush life; slow down and enjoy the people in your life. Make time for those you have been too busy for. Give your loved ones all the love you can, and keep them close to your heart.

God gave my dad a second chance at life and me a chance to enjoy having my dad around longer. Because of God’s work, I stand in the light, holding my loved ones closer to my heart.

THE JOURNEY TO RECOVERY

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

After spending six days on a ventilator and spending what seemed like forever in ICU, my dad continues his  long journey to recovery. After ICU he spent a couple days in a regular room before transferring to rehab. While in a regular room, a man from rehab came to talk to my dad about the next steps. My dad told the man he would do whatever it takes to get better. Dad is a determined man.

They moved him to a different part of the hospital for rehab. We had to follow a purple line to an elevator and take it to the second floor. We had to walk through a maze of hallways to find his room. At first my husband and I got confused and had to ask for help. When we finally reached Dad, instead of lying in a bed in a hospital gown, he sat in a chair wearing a shirt and shorts. His legs, ankles, and feet were swollen from fluid buildup. The beautiful part was there was no more IVs stuck in his arms, machines going off, and a tube going out of his mouth. He looked run down and weak, yet more like himself.

The sadness, the crying spells, and emotional exhaustion I felt while he was in the ICU were gone. In their place were hope and gratefulness. God gave my dad a second chance, he gave my family more time with him, and my heart was overflowing with thankfulness. Just hearing his voice was and is magical.

Each time I visited, my dad looked stronger and more determined. We sat in his room almost every day and talked about what he did in therapy. Physical therapy happened two times a day. When he arrived in rehab, he was too weak to walk, to dress himself, or get up without help. In therapy they had him do exercises to build up his muscles and slowly eased him into walking with a walker. After his sessions, he fought to keep his eyes open. We would sit in the lounge so he could take naps.

Each time we came to visit, his pale cheeks got more color in them, he became less tired, and more talkative. One day my husband came when Dad was being taken down for therapy. We were allowed to sit in chairs off to the side and watch the therapist direct him to do exercises. He had my dad walk around the room with a walker, go up and down stairs, and do stretches. Then he went to an occupational therapist who worked with him on practicing to get on a bed raised the same height as my parent’s bed at home. Dad also practiced getting into a car and other things he would need to do at home.

The therapist said, “You’re doing great. You’re doing everything with little help from me.”

I realized I got my determination to overcome obstacles from my dad. Seeing him each day grow stronger and push harder towards recovery reminded me of all the obstacles I pushed through. I never let anything stop me from reaching my goals. I pushed to rise above bullying, I fought mental illness to reach recovery, I stood up to beat breast cancer, and I recovered from several surgeries. I got all that fire to fight from my dad. Like I have fought in the past I watched my father fight to get strong enough to go home.

Each night I posted updates on Facebook asking for prayers. I even shared my dad’s journey with my customers and many of them said they were putting him on their churches pray chain or they would pray for him. At night my friend Amy called for updates on my dad and to share with me she had people praying for him. Each time I visited my dad, I saw the prayers being answered.

I texted my friend Cheryl about Dad and the progress he was making. She texted me, “If this had happened to your dad several years ago, you would have fallen to pieces, but you have handled your dad getting sick very well. I’m so proud of you.”

She’s right. If my dad had been put on a ventilator before I reached recovery, I would have injured, felt suicidal and maybe even needed to be admitted to a mental health hospital, but now I used coping techniques and my support system to make it through without becoming an emotional wreck.

As you’re reading this, my dad will be leaving rehab and returning home to be with my mom. He must use a walker or a cane, but I have faith that in time he will be back to going for long walks, working on airplanes, flying his own private plane, and working in the vineyard he and my mom own. In the meantime, I will visit them often and help them as much as I can. My parents took care of me my whole life and believed in me when no one else did, and now it’s my turn to be there for them.

Have faith in yourself while you’re in recovery. When times get tough, use coping techniques and your support system to make it through. Take each day as it comes and be proud of each accomplishment you make. Let your determination keep you in the light of recovery.

My dad still has a long journey ahead of him, and I know I’m strong enough to be at his side supporting him. I inherited my dad’s determination and that is what keeps me bathing in the light of recovery.

FROM THE BRINK OF TRAGEDY TO RECOVERY

Published on by Aimee Eddy2 Comments

My family’s life was turned upside down two weeks ago. On the fourth of July, my husband and I picked up my older sister who lives forty minutes away and drove her to my parents’ home for a picnic. It was a beautiful day. My uncle brought us leftover food from his grandson’s graduation, so no one had to cook. Mom warmed up the food and we sat at a table under a big oak tree and ate and talked. It seemed like the perfect day. Dad was in good spirits and was joking around with us like he usually does. Around four o’clock we drove my sister home and then drove back to our house. Then my husband and I watched fireworks, which seemed like a perfect end to a great day. We had no idea that our lives would soon be sent into a whirl wind.

The next day I called my mom to find out my dad had spent the night getting sick. She had called the cancer center, and they told her if he didn’t get better to take him to the emergency room. The following day Mom met my husband and me at a funeral home to go to the viewing of a friend who had passed. Mom told me Dad was doing better, but was very weak. So, we figured the food he ate didn’t agree with him since he was on chemo, or it was a reaction to the weekly shot he gets every Wednesday to fight the cancer.

Later that night my mom called me to tell me my dad was sick again, and they were at the ER. My husband and I waited for a phone call late into the night. I was sick with worry, and I had called my siblings to let them know Dad was in the ER. My younger sister and brother texted on our group chat from time to time, asking if I had heard anything. At one in the morning my mom called to tell me my dad had pneumonia in his left lung and was air-flighted to a hospital in Erie, a half hour away.

After I called all my siblings, I went to bed, but struggled to sleep. In the morning, my mom called and said my dad had taken a turn for the worse and was on a ventilator in intensive care. Dad had arrived at the hospital in renal failure, but the doctor on call saved him from dying. From that point on it was a matter of praying he would survive.

I called each of my siblings to tell them. My brother lives in Tennessee, and my younger sister lives in North Carolina, and they both made plans to come to town. Once they arrived, each day we gathered in the waiting room and took turns going into the ICU to hold Dad’s hand and to encourage him to fight. Only two people were allowed to go in at a time.

At home I cried in my husband’s arms, afraid that I was going to lose my dad, the man who always came to our rescue when my husband and I were in need, the man who believed in me being able to write a book when I lost hope, and the man who helped others without asking for anything in return. My emotions twisted within me, and I felt like I was falling into the hole of depression again. No matter how much I slept at night, it wasn’t enough, and I felt drained physically and mentally. I turned to my support system and journaled out my feelings. My friend Cheryl texted with me often to support me through this, and my friend Amy called and still calls me each day to see how I am and to get updates on my dad. I thought I needed a higher dose of my antidepressants to deal with the situation, but my psychiatrist disagreed. He said what I was feeling and how I was reacting was normal for the situation.

My dad had IVs in his arms and neck. His arms were strapped to the bed so he wouldn’t reach up and pull out the ventilator. He could nod his head when we talked to him, he squeezed our hands, and moved his legs. Nurses kept an eye on him round the clock, and different doctors came in and out. I wanted to cry each time I saw him, but knew I had to be strong for him. After six days my brother, his family, and I went to the hospital. I sat in the waiting room with my niece and nephews. My brother and his wife went back to see my dad.

After a while, my brother came out with a smile. “Dad’s off the ventilator and he can talk some.”

My niece and I went back, and my dad looked at me and said, “I love you, Aimee.” Then he looked at my niece and said, “I love you, Sara.”

He struggled to force his words out and his voice was garbled, but his words were music to my ears.

I looked at my father and said, “Dad, you’ll be tickling us again in no time.”

“He can tickle you now,” the nurse said.

Dad started rubbing his fingers on our arms in an attempt to tickle my niece and me. I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. So, I laughed. As the day went on, he was able to talk more and joke around. After a few days he was moved out of ICU to a regular room, and he was looking more like himself. He was extremely weak, but in good spirits. My husband and I picked up my older sister to visit dad in the ICU and then in a regular room.

I posted on Facebook updates on my dad asking for prayers, and the prayers were answered. Each day he made new improvements. Now two weeks later he is in rehab, determined to get stronger so he can go home. We continue to visit him in rehab, and each day he’s getting stronger and is acting more and more like himself. My dad’s heart is weakened by everything he’s been through, and they are trying to strengthen it. He has fluid in his legs and feet, and they are giving him a diuretic to get rid of it, but they believe he will be able to return home in a week.

The thought of losing my dad scared me. I can’t imagine my life without him in it. I know he won’t live forever, and I thank God for giving me more time with him. This situation showed me how short life is and how God carries us through the rough times. It also showed me that I am stronger than I think. I did what I needed to deal with nearly losing my dad. I used coping techniques to keep me above the hole of depression.

Hold on to those close to you, tell people you love them, and don’t hold grudges. If you find yourself in a situation where your entire world is being turned inside out, use coping techniques and your support systems to get you through. Give yourself credit; you are strong.

I believe I handled nearly losing my dad quite well even when I thought I wasn’t. Leaning on my support team and using my coping techniques helped me stay in the light of recovery.

UPDATE

Published on by Aimee Eddy2 Comments

My dad got off the ventilator Friday and is eating soft foods, sitting in a chair and talking. He’s still in ICU. He still has a blood infection all through his body, making him septic. He’s improving but has a long journey ahead of him.

I went back to work Sunday. Now we’re trying to work around our work schedules to visit my dad. I’m exhausted mentally and physically. I’m journaling out my feelings, using different coping techniques for anxiety and leaning on my support team. Everything has been a lot and so I didn’t write a blog post this week. My main focus is on my dad.

I appreciate all who are praying for my dad and family. Please lift up my mom she is getting worn down by this, but is at my dad’s side every day.

TRAGEDY IN MY FAMILY

Published on by Aimee Eddy2 Comments

I didn’t write a blog post for this week because my dad has pneumonia in his left lung and is on a ventilator. This has been very heartbreaking for my family especially my mom. My dad can open his eyes and move his hands and legs. He still has his sense of humor even though he can’t talk. He kicked me in the butt a couple times.

   I can’t imagine life without my dad. Please pray for him to improve and get off the ventilator. Please pray for my family as we try to get through this especially my mom. Thank you and I appreciate all of you.

MY FRIEND BARB

Published on by Aimee Eddy4 Comments

Friends come and go in our lives. Each friend makes a different impact on your life and heart. Even bad friendships teach you lessons. Some friends are only meant to come in your life for a short time, and some span over many years. Those that last for many years are very special and only get stronger through the years. Barb was one of those special friends that lasted for many years.

 I met Barb almost twenty-nine years ago as a regular customer of mine at the grocery store where I work . She had some problems walking and talking, but it didn’t stop her from coming in the store regularly to shop and visit me. First, she came to me when I was a bagger. I packed her groceries and chatted with her. Then when I became a cashier, she started coming to my line even if she had to wait a while. Our store had a play area for parents to leave their children while they shopped.

Barb would smile at me. “I think I would love to work with the kids. Do you think they will hire me?”

I sent her groceries down the belt. “I’m sure they would. Stop at the service desk and get an application.”

“I will and I’ll put you down as a reference,” she said.

I don’t think she ever filled out an application, because each time she came in, she talked about working at the area where the kids played. I kept encouraging her to apply.

Then I had to take some time off for sick leave after my relationship with my abusive ex landed me in the mental health hospital. When I returned to work, I was moved to the bakery. Barb found me in the bakery and would stop by to say hi and chat with me while I worked. Even though she had some problems walking, it didn’t stop her from walking around our big store. She didn’t let anything stand in her way.

Then I met my friend Kelly at Saint Davids Christian Writers Conference and learned she lived in the same city where I worked. Kelly invited me to attend her Bible study group held at her church. I agreed and showed up.

Barb came strolling in late and pointed at me. “Hey, I know you.”

It wasn’t until that Bible study group that I learned Barb’s name and we started a friendship. After that Barb invited me to her home for picnics, parties, and to visit. I learned that Barb loved to host parties. The more I got to know her, the closer we became. Barb reminded me of myself in many ways. She was determined and she wouldn’t let anything stand in her way. Just like I wouldn’t let bullying and mental illness to stand in my way.

When I met my husband, I introduced her to him and he started calling her, “Barbra Streisand,” and it put a big smile on her lips. In time her walking and talking became harder for Barb. She was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. I encouraged her to use a motorized cart to shop at the store.

“As long as I have a cart to lean on, I can walk on my own,” she told me.

She wasn’t about to let the disease win. She pushed forward and when I asked her if she needed help to her car, he told me she wasn’t an elderly person, she could do it. The longer I knew her, the worse it became for her to walk and talk. I had to learn to interpret some of what she said, and even though she moved slower, she still walked around the store. She was too determined and stubborn to give in.

She lived in a home that had many stairs to get to the first floor. At first, she did them well while holding on to the rail, but then she became slower and eventually had to slide down each step, but like the grocery store, she wasn’t going to let the stairs defeat her. Barb was inspiring.

When she started using a walker and eventually a wheelchair, I knew the cerebral palsy was becoming worse, but even though she needed help, she wasn’t a quitter. At home she used railings that were installed to help her walk around. She struggled but pushed on. Her speech became even worse and understanding what she was saying became even harder, but it didn’t stop her from trying to get her words out. I could hear the frustration in her voice as she tried to talk to me. It finally came to the point Barb could no longer visit me at work. I tried to call her and check on her, but felt bad when I couldn’t understand what she was saying to me.

Eventually her daughter had to move her to assisted living. I planned to visit her during my vacation the week after Father’s Day, but I got sick and then my husband got sick. Before I knew it, her daughter posted on Facebook she was in respiratory distress and she wasn’t sure if Barb would make it through the night, but Barb wasn’t willing to give up without a fight. Barb was transferred to her home and her daughter stayed at her side while hospice took care of her. I planned to go see her Friday after work to say my goodbyes, but I ended up taking my husband to the emergency room. Barb passed away after midnight on Saturday morning.

Barb fought all the way to the end. She never allowed anything to stand in her way; she pushed through her decline due to her disease with strength, determination, and stubbornness. She had a beautiful smile that lit up the room and loved to give from the heart. I don’t believe cerebral palsy won. She may have passed away, but she gained her angel wings and a new body. She has left an everlasting impact on my life and the memory of her will remind me how important it is to never let anything hold you down.

Barb has made my life brighter and inspired me to be stronger. Barb has entered the light of heaven and I will allow her memory to inspire me to never let anything to keep me from the light of my recovery from mental illness.

THE GOOD SIDE OF A BAD VACATION

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

Even when we make the best plans for our life, things can go wrong. The best plans can be ruined in a second by an unexpected illness, a tragedy, or an injury. Life never works out exactly how we want it to. Life’s unexpected roadblocks can be hard to handle when you are working towards recovery or are in recovery from mental illness. How you handle these roadblocks is what keeps you on the right track towards or keeping in, recovery.

Last week I had planned for a vacation from work. Lou still had to work, but we planned one night out of town at a hotel and a day at a safari and shopping. The rest of my vacation I planned to put up our small pool, do laundry, and get the old 70’s -80’s entertainment center out of our living room and set up a TV stand. I even planned to buckle down and work on my next book. I was going to start my vacation with a Father’s Day picnic with my dad and family. I was looking forward to a week away from work, getting things done, and having some fun, but life threw a roadblock in my way and turned my vacation upside down.

The Thursday before my vacation I felt rundown. I thought maybe it was just an off day or a one-day thing, but when I woke up on Friday, I felt even more fatigued, my throat hurt, and I was coughing. My husband told me to call off work, but I was stubborn and went in. Halfway through my shift I felt so sick I could barely stand. I went home early and had to call off on Saturday. I lay in bed crying. Since I was sick, I couldn’t be anywhere near my dad since he’s going through cancer. My oldest sister was also sick, and my younger siblings live out of town. There would be none of us kids to spend Father’s Day with my dad. I felt awful about it. This was going to be the first Father’s Day in a long time I wasn’t going to spend with him.

I called and told my dad I was on vacation and if I were better by the end of the week, we could celebrate. I set my hopes on that. I told my husband we would have to lose our money for our night away, but he told me, “We’ll see how you are by Tuesday.” I started my vacation too sick to move, coughing so hard my stomach hurt, and unable to eat much food. Father’s Day I lay on the couch, sucking cough drops, and watching movies in between drifting off to sleep. My automatic thoughts were negative. My vacation was going to be an absolute disaster. We were going to lose our money on our hotel room and be stuck at home. Everything I had planned would never get done, and I was going to spend the whole week miserable.

Lou didn’t give up on our night away. He took me to the doctor on Monday. The doctor prescribed me cough medicine and a steroid because my asthma flared up by my illness. She diagnosed me with a viral infection and prescribed me lots of rest. I was feeling better by Monday, with a little more energy, but the cough was horrible. I had to curl up in a ball and clench my stomach each time I coughed.

Lou said, “How about I drive to the hotel, we get some food to eat, and spend the night resting in air conditioning. I’ll get us some snacks foods and I’ll take care of you. Since we’re going through a heat wave the air conditioning will help your breathing.”

I wasn’t too sure about this idea. Was I well enough for the ride? Would it be fair for Lou to do all the driving? What if I just got sicker? Would I even enjoy it? I agreed to our overnight trip but wasn’t too sure about it. I feared it would be a disaster.

We went on our trip. The cough medicine helped ease my coughing, I slept while Lou drove, and when we got there, I had more energy. We were able to have dinner out and spend the night relaxing in our room, eating junk food. Lou watched sports on the TV, and I watched movies on a portable DVD player. It turned out to be a very relaxing night away and I enjoyed it. The hotel had a very good free breakfast, and we went to Walmart to pick up a few things before heading home the next day. I was glad Lou wouldn’t let me cancel it.

Thursday morning Lou called me from work to tell me he wasn’t feeling good and was coming home. He was lightheaded so I took him to the ER. We sat in the ER waiting room for over five hours without them calling us back to a room. When I asked the woman at the check in desk how much longer until they call my husband back, they couldn’t find him in the computer. She went over and took his wrist band, told me to sit down and she would be right back. We sat and sat and she never came back. We got mad and left. That night while he slept, I had extra energy, so I went outside and put our pool up. Then I went inside and lay down. The next day I took Lou to Urgent Care to find out he had bronchitis.

I kept thinking this is the vacation from hell. Everything was going wrong. First, I was sick, then a horrible day at the ER, and next Lou was sick. Then I started to look at the positive side to my awful vacation: we still got to spend the night away, I got to sleep in and watch movies all day, I still was able to put the pool up, and I did sit in it for a couple days. I didn’t have to call off from work and I got paid to be sick.

Why am I telling you about my bad vacation? Because no matter how bad things, get there is a good side to everything. It’s so hard to see it when we are going though the difficult times, but the good is there. Instead of dwelling on the bad try to find the positive in what you are going through. Good comes from the bad.

As I write this, I’m not a hundred percent better, but I’m much better than I was. I still have a milder cough, my voice is hoarse, and I’m weak, but I’m ready to go back to work. Looking at the positive side of difficult situations keeps me soaking in the light of recovery.