Tag: Life

NEW EYES AND A NEW LOOK AT LIFE

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

I had my second cataract surgery on my right eye on Monday, December 8. The surgery went well without any complications. It was strange; I could hear the doctor and nurses talking and I felt pressure on my eye, but no pain. I wasn’t awake, but I wasn’t completely asleep either. The doctor put a patch on my right eye, and when the nurse took it off the next day the world around me changed.

I got my first pair of glasses in fourth grade. I tried not to wear them as much as possible, but that made seeing difficult. As the years went by, the lenses got thicker. They grew heavier and I had to constantly push them up. I tried to get thin frames, hoping it would make the glasses less heavy, but it didn’t help much. I became accustomed to my bulky glasses. They became a part of me. Every morning, I put them on, all day long I pushed them up, and every night I took them off. It was a routine.

Mental illness is like wearing glasses. We don’t want to admit we have it, so we avoid it as much as possible. Then the racing thoughts, negative thinking, hopelessness, and loss of self esteem grow thicker and thicker. We become accustomed to it and begin to live our lives in darkness. We believe the mental illness has become a part of us. We wake up to it, we drown in it all day long, and we go to bed with it.

With my eyes, cataracts made seeing extremely difficlt. I used a bright light and a magnifying glass to see better. When I went through cataract surgery on my left eye, things started to look brighter. Then I went through cataract surgery on my right eye and when they took the patch off, I could see everything better. I could see a brighter and better world. I was amazed at what I could see without glasses. It was like I got new eyes.

 Some things remain hard to see like words in a book and the guide on the TV. I got a pair of readers but will eventually need prescription glasses to see words on the TV and signs in the distance while driving.

Similar to cataracts, mental illness makes life look like a never-ending road of sadness. You use a therapist, medication, coping techniques, and a psychiatrist to help you find your way to the light. You fight a battle with your illness and in time life begins to look brighter. You take medication to balance the chemicals in your brain, and you change the way you think. Then you climb out of the dark hole and see a brighter and better life. But you still need medication and coping techniques to continue in the light of recovery.

Getting surgery for cataracts gave me a new look at the world, like reaching recovery gave me a new look at life. Since my vision was bad, cataract surgery couldn’t repair my vision completely. Recovery from mental illness doesn’t cure a person completely. There is nothing wrong with having extra aid to get through. I can’t see without glasses to read, and I can’t stay in recovery without coping techniques and medication. Cataract surgery wasn’t a complete cure for my vision, and recovery doesn’t mean I’m cured of mental illness.

There may not be a cure for mental illness, and you will need coping techniques to get through bad days, but your world will look brighter. Just like my world looks brighter after my cataract surgeries. You can live a happy life and find joy. So, I encourage you to fight for recovery and learn to see your life differently.

I not only see the world differently because of cataract surgery, but I see life differently because I stand in the light of recovery.

FIRST THANKSGIVING WEEK OFF IN THIRTY YEARS

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

When you work in retail, holidays can be really hard. Thanksgiving week in a grocery store means a mad rush of last-minute shoppers. It takes a lot out of retail workers. Despite everything, the workers must put on a smile. It’s not easy.

For thirty years I have worked Thanksgiving week, for a couple years in the bakery and for many years as a cashier. In the bakery there were endless orders of pies, breads, and rolls. As a cashier it’s lines of people, lifting frozen turkeys, grumpy customers, and large cart loads of groceries. The customers tell you at least time will go by fast and it does, but it wears you out. My anxiety is high during the holidays. I try to work fast to get customers out, all the while having sore shoulders, an achy back, and a tired body. The never-ending lines make me want to hide, but I put on a smile and I talk with my customers.

I can’t tell you how many customers come in on the last day and buy a frozen turkey, expecting it to be thawed by the next day. Many customers wait until the very last minute to buy the fixings for their Thanksgiving dinner. They are in such a rush to get everything done that they become grumpy and they take it out on the retail workers. I love being a cashier and working with people, but I hate working the holidays.

This year will be the first time in thirty years I will have Thanksgiving week off. Monday was my cataract surgery on my left eye, and I took Sunday off to spend the night at my parents so they could drive me to my surgery. My co-workers asked me if I was nervous or scared, but I’m not. I have had a lot more major surgeries than this one. Having surgery just means I get to spend Thanksgiving week relaxing and without anxiety attacks. I’m more than willing to let my husband wait on me.

A couple of friends are providing us with some suppers while I’m recovering so I won’t have to worry about cooking. Thanksgiving leftovers will help with some meals also. My body gets to have a break from work. I will be able to write my newsletter and get Christmas cards ready to send out. I can also get a start on Christmas movies while I’m off. I had the lens popped out of my glasses for the left eye so I could see. I’m able to see well right after they took the patch off my left eye the day after surgery.

Even though it’s because of surgery I’ll be off for Thanksgiving week, I’m excited. I not able to bend or lift, but that just gives me an excuse to sit around in my PJs and be lazy. Who can say no to PJ days? I sure don’t get many of them while I’m working. I work, then after work I take my husband for rides, and my days off are appointments. That doesn’t leave much time to just be lazy. Now I have an excuse.

This Thanksgiving week  you also can slow down and be grateful for the gifts of this holiday. Enjoy a good meal provided by God, enjoy family and friends, and be thankful for all the wonderful things you have. Don’t forget to have a PJ day or two.

This Thanksgiving I’m thankful for a week off and for surgeons who can give me the gift of better sight. I will have a new look at life soon. This Thanksgiving I will be relaxing in the light of recovery.

BEING THANKFUL

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

The holidays are supposed to be a happy time of year. Thanksgiving is getting closer and closer. People are busy planning big meals to celebrate with friends and family. It’s a time of sharing and being grateful for the things we have in our lives. But for many this holiday and other holidays are dreaded. Some struggle with anxiety about spending time with large groups of people, some are alone, some are struggling with depression and can’t find joy, some dread family drama, and some are spending the holidays without a loved one.

When I was younger, I hated holidays. They only made me feel more alone and depressed. I struggled with friends coming in and out of my life. My classmates and teachers put me down. I felt even more isolated from the world during the holidays. Thanksgiving left me feeling like there was nothing in my life to be thankful for. I fell into a depression and became irritable at the holidays. I fought with my siblings and easily went off on my parents.

When I met my husband, my perspective on holidays changed. He made everything brighter. He gave me reasons to celebrate, and with him I never feel or felt alone. I found things to be thankful for at Thanksgiving time.

This holiday season my husband and I are struggling financially, and I’m helping him search for a job. I feel stressed, sad, and overwhelmed. Thanksgiving is Thursday, and I have been wondering what I have to be thankful for. My husband is out of work, bills are adding up, we’re applying for jobs for him, but no one is calling, we have big decisions to make, and I don’t know how to make them. I feel depression tugging at me, but I’m fighting it.

To get into the holiday spirit I decided to write a list of things I’m thankful for. Here is my list:

  • I’m thankful for friends who have helped my husband and me in our time of need. A customer who has become a friend sent me a check, a friend brought us dog food and a gift card, and another friend gave us a turkey breast.
  • I’m thankful to have a house to live in. Despite how tough things are for us, we still have a roof over our heads.
  • I’m thankful for my husband. I wouldn’t want to go through these tough times with anyone else.
  • I’m thankful for my parents. My parents are always giving moral support, listening to us, and helping us out in anyway they can. Their love is endless.
  • I’m thankful for the food bank at our church. Without the food bank, we would not have food.
  • I’m thankful for my dog, Esther. She always seems to know when I’m struggling, and she gives me extra cuddles.
  • I’m thankful for being strong enough to fight depression. I could easily fall to the bottom of my hole of darkness, but I refuse to let that happen.
  • I’m thankful for having a family that loves me. My parents are wonderful, and so are my siblings. They show me in different ways how much they care.
  • I’m thankful for my job. Without my job, we would be in even worse shape. Talking to my customers brightens my day.

Thanksgiving is a time to look at your life and see what you have to be grateful for. When you are struggling with hard times and mental illness, it’s hard to find good things. If you think about it and list things you are thankful for, you might find light in your soul. You can be grateful for small things like getting out of bed, taking a shower, or going for a walk. No matter how bad things seem, there is always something in your life to be thankful for.

This holiday season I have been struggling with a lot of emotions and coping to keep above the hole, but writing a list of what I am thankful for is helping me celebrate 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.

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.