In My Garden

I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE to play in the garden; with flowers and vines and dirt (although I wear garden gloves). It has been a great passion of mine for years. However, in the past 5 or so years that have greatly changed my life, ahem, from the Migraine demon, gardening was a thing of the past for me.

I don't tolerate the heat well, actually at all! I have trouble with the bending over part of gardening, my head, not my back. It's the dizzying, getting myself to my steady or unsteady feet that I can't quite get over. This year, I have been trying my hand at it, very slowly. Well, I did some last year, too; but this year, I'm actually getting my feet wet. And dirty. It's very slow-going for me; but I'm learning patience as I go.

This was actually just a flook! I had a white pumpkin in the garden; for decorating purposes, and it threw up. Left it's seeds and now I have a beautiful vine of white pumpkins starting. Today is August 3rd.

Frank hates that they are in my front yard, but I love them! I also have a little gourd patch behind them that haven't started to blossom. Yet.

This is just another pumpkin climbing over my Hosta. Cute isn't it!

This is just Rocco looking out the window, jealous that he's NOT outside. It's 90 outside.

Marisa took these two pictures.

This concludes my garden for today. It's hot and my head hurts, but my garden is pretty and growing things again. Oh, and it's desperate for water!

A Piece of the Past

When my Grandmother died, I acquired several boxes of odds and ends. There were pictures of people I could recall from my growing up, and some I could not. For those, I went to my parents for names to the faces.

In one particular box, I found the registry book from her father's funeral. And in it was this poem, written to my Great-Grandmother, dated October 1886 Groton, NY.

Little Grace

by Wesley P. Morse

As through this changing world I pass,

As wearily I wend my way.

A little child of tender years,

Lightens my burdens day by day.

'Tis she who makes my humble home,

Dearer than any earthly place;

My bright-eyed, happy little Grace.

When worn by toil and anxious care,

Weary and tired at close of day,

One smile on her bright, happy face,

Will drive all anxious care away.

It gently soothes my greatest fears,

The daily cares of life, erase,

And joyous, happy, are the hours

I spend with darling little Grace.

I love to hear her tiny step,

The patter of those little feet,

To hear her voice in happy song-

No other notes seem half so sweet.

I love that look of innocence

That ever rests upon her face,

With joy I kiss those rosy cheeks,

My precious, darling, little Grace.

As future years 'mid changes pass,

If God our humble lives shall span

And she to womangood shall grow,

May I, as now, her love then share.

May I, in my declining years

Still catch the sweet smile from her face;

And may she ever seem as dear,

As now, my darling little Grace.

I'm sorry this picture came out so small; but it is a picture of me at the age of about 4, with my Mom around 24, my Gram and her Mom (Grace). Great-gram and I used to celebrate our birthdays together on St. Pat's Day.

I remember that she smelled of Ben Gay and old lady and she snored a lot. She used to rub the stuff on her forehead like my Gram did. (hmmm, MIGRAINES?????) She died a few years after this picture was taken, and though I don't remember her death, I remember she just disappeared.

She lived in a room off of the diningroom in my Grandparents house. We used to go for Sunday supper every Sunday. I can still smell the meatballs if I think real hard. I know I've posted that before. But my Gram took care of her Mom.

She had two dogs then; a black lab, named Banjo. And a very fat and smelly black and white dog named Huck, short for Huckleberry. My Grandparents loved their dogs. I can remember when it was time to put ole Banjo down, I was trying to make my Gram feel better by talking to her; telling her he would be ok once they gave him the shot. But she started to cry. I felt terrible. I made my Grandma cry. What a loser! I had never seen her cry before, but now I had her in tears. I tried to hug her and tell her I was sorry; and she just tried to smile it off. I'll never forget that day.

How I miss my Grandparents. They were such an essential part of my growing up. From Italian traditions, like the Sunday supper; and my Grandfather's love of the Yankees, and hate for anyone else. (that is NOT an Italian tradition - that was just Grandpa) .

Gram was nutty and funny and outgoing. When we were younger, as in little; she would play Bingo on the weekends - oh, I have her Bingo bag! Frank actually took it to play Bingo one night. Field Days were called "Bazaars" and she went to every one in Oswego county. She would go to the State Fair every year and sit all day at the Ball Bingo game. It was sad when she couldn't go anymore.

Sunday was what she called, "Maid's Day off!" And she would go shopping every Sunday. Not for groceries. She and my Aunt Dianne and my Mom, when I was little would all go. Kids were not allowed. We would watch Laurel and Hardy or The Three Stooges or Shirley Temple. Any of the old movies that would make us laugh. My father would fall asleep, so would Grampa. Then the Yanks would come on. During football season, the game would be on.

Those were the good ole days. I would love to revisit them, out of memory, just once. But ist sure is good to have memory!

Ch.. chh.. chh...chhanges

Look at the sweet little table I found at a garage sale for only $4. Well, he wanted $8, she said $5 when I requested the 4, and told me to, "just come back later and see if it's still here." So as I started to walk to the van with an, ok then attitude, he said, "$4 works for me!"

Isn't it cute? So I sanded it down, chucked the ugly knob (ka-nob), and am now in search for a very pretty colored glass, sparkley one. Oh, and I do not yet know what I am going to do with said table.

First I thought I'd just dry paint it a nice serene cream color; but no, that is just too predictable and boring. I think I want to try something a little more fun and flashy. A little more wild and cranky and unpredictable.

Did I mention that we are changing the kids' roomS around? As in ALL of their rooms! So here is how the move is to take place: Christina will be moving to Marisa's room; Marisa will be moving to Nicholas' room; and Nicholas will be moving to Christina's room. Naturally, all themes will be scratched for new, updated themes. Only one room will be painted - thankfully, the smallest of the three, which will be the most complicated and the most fun - Nicholas' room. He wants it in a camouflage theme. Can't wait. Well, actually, I can totally wait.

Christina and I did some shopping for her room yesterday - she is going with a retro black, hot pink and white/cream idea. Very pretty. Very Girly, and Very Christina.

Naturally, Cinderisa has yet to find her theme.

Marisa made her sister a birthday cake yesterday, and a birthday hat. I can't believe my little blondie is 12! She also took care of her brother while I took Christina out for a day of shopping, which is tradition on your birthday. We ran. all. day. long. And she was just as exhausted as I was. I couldn't believe my ears when she said to me, "Mom, no wonder you tell me you're too tired to go anywhere. I'll never ask you to take me out at night again!"

But I assured her that she definitely could. poor thing. We just wore each other out!

Marisa did an awesome job with Nicholas, Vanessa and Jasmine; not to mention, Frank wasn't feeling well. She made lunch, cleaned up after them and lunch, had them helping with cake; mowed the lawn, cleaned her room, Nick's room, kept order with three arguing little children. Then put together dinner because I collaped with a migraine when I got home and needed a 40 minute nap before everyone arrived for cake and ice cream.

So, why do we call her, Cinderisa?

Aren't my girls beautiful!? Ok, usually Marisa, well sometimes, Marisa does something with her hair - like she lately has this natural wave style going on, and it is sooooo pretty. I don't know WHAT this style is. But hey, that's ok, because if it's unattractive to the boys, too, great!

Almost forgot - I may throw my toothbrush away for good!! Why??? Because I just bought a Sonicare from my dentist and I absolutely LOVE it!! My mouth has never been so clean. Seriously, I love it! I recommend it. But put it in your mouth before you turn it on, because it is messy.

On the migraine front - things are weird again. Naturally. I should probably call my neuro (I'm saying to myself) actually I did see him a couple of weeks ago; but things are getting increasingly ummmm, odd.

The aura are changing, and my right side has been sort of losing it's grip and feeling; and then the migraine comes. I feel like a part of my brain has disappeared during all of it, and I can't distinguish up and down, right and left. If I'm standing in the bathroom while it's happening and I need to get to the bedroom, I become stuck (in my head) but my feet won't go forward. I can't really explain it any better than that.

I try to move them, I look like a horse prancing her feet, but it just won't walk forward. I can feel the movement going. Down the entire side of me is this weird sensation of electric nothingness. And my stomach - oh my stomach how it burns and hurts and churns. It has happened before all of this. Could the meds be losing their effects again? Oh, yeah, probably.

When the migraine comes after the silence, the cave-like, scoop of nothing that disappears from my brain; it comes on like a plane crash, or a bomb drop - searing itself in. Hot, hard, fast, loud, intense. Deeper and deeper, harder and harder it pulses. Like right now. It's crippling the way it shuts me down.

A Little FYI for Your PMS Migraine

Naratriptan Tolerable Long-Term for Menstrual Migraine Prophylaxis


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NEW YORK (Reuters Health) Jul 05 - Naratriptan twice daily is well tolerated when taken for 6 continuous days per month for up to 1 year for the prevention of menstruation-related migraine, results of a study indicate.
"For many of the approximately 18% of US women with migraine, menstruation is a predictable trigger of migraine attacks," note Dr. Jan Lewis Brandes, from Vanderbilt University School of Medicine in Nashville, and colleagues in the June issue of Headache.
While naratriptan is not approved for migraine prophylaxis, it has been shown to be significantly more effective than placebo for short-term prevention of menstrual migraine, they point out.
Dr. Brandes' group studied the tolerability of naratriptan 1 mg twice daily starting 3 days before the expected onset of menstrually related migraine and continuing for a total of 6 days. Women in the study had the option to use an additional 2.5-mg dose for breakthrough migraines.
A total of 457 women took at least one dose of naratriptan on study; 318 and 131 completed 6 and 12 months of treatment, respectively.
According to the investigators, the only adverse event occurring at an incidence of more than 2% during the 6-day treatment periods when 1-mg BID naratriptan was taken was ear, nose, and throat infection (3%) -- even when an additional 2.5-mg dose was taken.
There were no serious drug-related adverse events recorded and no patients experienced clinically relevant drug-related changes in electrocardiograms, vital signs, or clinical laboratory tests.
Furthermore, women reported that they did not have a migraine in roughly 50% of perimenstrual periods during which naratriptan prophylaxis was used. The efficacy of naratriptan for menstrual migraine prophylaxis did not wane over time in the 131 patients who remained in the study for the full 12 months.
"Results suggested that naratriptan reduced headache impact when used for up to 12 months for the short-term prevention of menstrually related migraine," Dr. Brandes and colleagues also report.

Ciao Ciao Zio

On Wednesday, our Zio left to go home to Italy. We miss him. We had a wonderful time getting to know him and love him. Teaching him interesting ways of our American heritage. Frank especially; they had a very unique bonding of their own, travelling to see Philip come in from Iraq.

He was able to visit Frank's brother in Maryland, so he did some travelling on the East coast, which is what he intended. He took hundreds, literally, of pictures. Visited the kids events, and recorded them. Went to wine country - he likes his wine. He loves hot sauce and barbecue and he absolutely loves Walmart. With an inate passion. He may miss that more than anything. He is 79 years old, and gets around like he's 59! He is so full of life. I miss him.

The next pictures will have snakes!!

When he first visited us, the kids brought the snakes out, and naturally he was frightened. Marisa talked him into petting them. He did. Well, last Tuesday when he was here, Philip decided to walk around with one on his neck, so...........

naturally, he wanted his picture taken with the snake on HIS neck. How cute is he!!! So when he did it, of course.........

Nonno had to get in on the action. How cute is he?? Now, Nonna doesn't like the snakes At ALL. She thinks they are disgusting and tells us so everytime she sees them. She doesn't want them near her, in any way, shape or form. You Understand Me!!

So.... when Philip did this, she was trying to get away, but he was pulling her back. Notice Hyrup, the snake moving toward her ear. Poor Nonna. I felt bad for her, while I was TAKING the picture. But it was too funny NOT to. It's not a smile on her face, believe me, it's total fear.

He loved Rocco, too. He called him, Rocky. We will miss our Zio Corrado. Philip, too. He is back on base, getting retrained for something, different.

Frank is now home and working his leg and body hard; trying to get it to work and bend. It's an amazing thing this new improved knee. It's amazing how fast he is healing. It amazes how hard he pushes himself to get better. You go, Frankie!

As for me, my little aura are playing like the game Centipede. That is what they look like now. And my balance has been playing "off" lately. A little hemi was thrown into the pool of migraine again for me on Friday. It's been a year since I had one of those. I woke again toda;y with the centipede-aura, and the right side is just a little;.....weird again for me. So, here we go.

Hoping everyone else better days

Deborah

A New Visitor for Frankie, sort of

So, poor Frank has been in the rehab center for a little over a week now. No, he's not in because he has a problem with illegal drugs -YET - although, they do have him on lot's of narcotics at the moment.

He had his knee replaced on the 18th of June. Yeah, ouch. Does anyone else pronounce the work "knee" as ka-nee when you see it spelled out?? Anyhoo, Rocco has been sort of wondering, well, that is if dogs do that sort of wondering thing; he's been following me around when I blow in and out of the house the way I do these past two weeks. It's been pretty freaking crazy!! Literally and seriously.

Thankfully, and I do mean, THANKFULLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Heavenly choir (in my head) singing in the background; my kids are gone. for. the . weekend. They were dropped off lastnight to their Dad's. Who also, was in the hospital, at the same time that Frank was. Interesting, I know. (I had nothing to do with that!) We get along quite well.

How many women can say that they had the opportunity to spend the evening, in two different hospitals, with two different husbands? Let me just tell you; it's not at all it's cracked up to be, and I did it only one time. I hate running around. And it's all I've done since poor Frank ended up getting his kanee tore open and replaced with the new and improved titanium baby. That had better last the 20 years they say it should. Or I may end up in a pasyche ward. Or under a bridge on lot's and lot's of illegal drugs. Who knows.

Oh, where on earth was I going with this; hang on, back to the top. Right, the dog and the visit. Each and every time I leave, the dog gets crated; which he just sincerely loves. Think bribe. So today was going to be different for good ole Rockhead. Today I was going to treat him to the R..I..D..E; which of course cannot be said allowed for obvious dillerious reasons - think clearing of the coffee table, spit-flying and mad-dash by the 100lb beast. This needed some careful thinking.

As it was, Frank had already needed MY, or rather a better cup of Jo than what the rehab ctr offered. So I got the call to come, and I needed to rescue. Dogs are onto our cleverness, no matter how hard we try to conceal what we're up to, they are on. to. it. He saw thru me, all the way. And I didn't look at him the entire time I was getting clean shirts, and coffee and packing things to bring. But this big oaf KNEW he was going. Let me tell you, it's been a long time since he's been in the van.

Anyway, clearly he enjoyed himself. It's been nearly two weeks since he's seen his Daddy, and I thought he'd pee himself when he saw him. (the dog, not Frank) Frank has rather good control of that. It was a very nice little reunion. Who knows, maybe he'll get to go back later. Maybe! In this last picture, he felt like he had to protect his Daddy each time the door opened up. The staunch protector that he is - yeah, that's him!!!

ME????? Come On!!

Well, thank you very much. I must say that I'm quite shocked, to say the least. And a little embarassed. Is that weird? That's me! Mostly weird.

I started this blog to sort of just get my pain down on the computer, and just hook up with other people, like me - in constant, unrelenting head pain - to just vent and oh, I don't know, share stories.

Now, I mostly share stories of my family, and throw in a migraine here or there if I feel like it. They are still with me, unfortunately; but I like the stuff my family gives me better. Let's face it, family is always entertaining.

I am honored to be given this award, I'm all giddy inside, and can't wait to show my neuro next week! Thank you to anyone who stops by here for a read. Don't forget to check out the other winners and the other great blogsites on my sidebar.

OH, and Frank is scheduled to come home on the 3rd! Keep up the good work Frankie!!! YEAH!!

Deborah

Update

Thank you all for your emails and posts on Frankie. He has had some setbacks, but is doing much better now. He'd been fighting an infection and blood clot; but, not anymore thankfully!



He goes to Physical Therapy in the morning, which is complete torture, as you could imagine. And then he's off to Occupational Therapy in the afternoon. He has been in a rehabilitation center since last Thursday, and it's right up the road from the house. Thank God!



I've been going twice a day with Nicholas, who runs up and down the halls when we get there. And the girls come when their schedules aren't too busy. He is mostly bored, so he is doing what he does best, sweet-talking the nurses. I haven't been there to get any recent pictures of therapy, but he is doing great. No marathons, Jeff.

It's amazing how far orthopedics has come! He was up and walking the evening of his surgery. I still don't believe it.

Thank you again for your concern and well-wishes.

Deborah

The Bionic Knee

No, he's not taking ballet lessons! Though he does look cute in his tights, tee hee. He's actually squatting up and down to stretch his muscles.

And here, he's pulling his leg in as close as he can. "Come on, Frankie, you can do it!! Pull harder!"

Now that is one straight leg! Amazing. On Monday, MONDAY; this man had a total and complete knee replacement surgery. Look at him. He is up and walking. It is not, by any means an easy task. I give him a lot of credit. He's in pain, and he is working hard; but he's doing it.

Go Frankie, Go!! Don't worry, I will take lot's more pictures of his progress.

People there thought I was crazy for doing this - HA! They'll wish they had someone doing the same for them. And they should really, showing them their own progress. They deserve it. This is life-changing surgery. I know this is going to change things for Frank.

He will be able to walk again; take walks. Play basketball, go for a run with Marisa. Ride bikes with me. These are things people take for granted, that can't do them. I look forward to these days with my Frankie.

For now, he must work very hard just to make each new literal baby step. To build muscle that hasn't been used. To strengthen those that have weakened.

I am proud of him for going forward and following thru with this very big and painful surgery.

And anyone else who must go through it.

Deborah

So What Happens Now

This is the emblem that we have embraced; the sign of Marine. The Proud and the bold. The fierce fighter. The pillar of strength. We had this on our desktop for months while Philip was in Iraq, as a symbol of who he is - a Marine. Of what he stands for - the Brotherhood of our Nation.

We knew he would come home a little less the pillar. Scarred from the battle. He warned us that something had changed. He was fearful of the jumping inside himself.

It's called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - Iraq - because, well, that is where he was stationed; in so many words. And for safety reasons.

And while the military "offers" help for these soldiers, finding it for them available, and getting it to them isn't what you would think it should be.

In the distance, on Friday evening, we could hear fireworks. I knew they would be going off because Marisa was marching in a parade for the festival that led up to them.

Philip; however, heard something completely different. In his mind, he was taken back to the desert. He was bunkered down in his fatigues for a moment. In his mind, he could smell the sweat, hear the blasts, taste the sand. And he froze. He shook as he asked his Dad what the sounds were. In his mind, they were the sounds of gunfire. In his mind. He knew the exact weapon, artillery, range, direction it was coming from. How long it would take for him to get his weapon loaded and ready. In his mind, he was there.

He came in the house, and Frank explained to me what happened, and by this time, we had fireworks going off in two seperate areas, the poor kid! In like a 10 mile radious north and south of us. He sat next to me on the couch, and the couch literally was shaking from his frustration. I felt so bad for him, but I just kept my calm, because with Philip, well, he is a Marine all tough and cool on the outside.

I very calmy explained to him, very slowly, that they were indeed fireworks. That there had been signs posted for them for weeks and Marisa was away in a parade and she had told him about it. He did remember her telling him about the parade, which made him feel somewhat better. Somewhat. But the shaking continued. As long as the fireworks.

With each crack and boom, he would tell me how the sounds reminded him of a bomb or a gun sound. I just listened to him and explained that it would get easier with time. I wonder, will it? I see the horrific stories of others that are struggling and I wonder if they too started like this.

When will it become a priority for our soldiers to get the help they need, when they get home? Will it be when they've become a menace to society, or when Walter Reed has just become to over-crowded with psych patients? Wait, isn't Walter Reed already in crisis? My bad.

Something needs to be done to help our vets!

Pain Sucks out LOUD

Oh, the things I subject myself to - for the sake of pain relief. The last being the very large Star Wars like beam that was thrust into my skull. . . . yeah, I'm still waiting. Still waiting for the pain to LEAVE ANY TIME NOW!!!! So, what do you do for pain relief??

I've gone to Boston. I've Been to the Great gods in Michigan for a full month of head-on, full-blast and full-blown, to the core, top of the line treatment folks. I learned so very much from the good gods there, but unfortunately for me, not much else , as far as pain relief, was accomplished.

I've had facet blocks, occipital blocks, nerve blocks, cryoanalgesic (the latest and greatest); I've been a virtual pin cushion voodoo doll for pain therapy. Yet, not getting pain relief. Yet. But there's still hope, right?

I've tried massive amounts of drugs, in all sorts of combonations, and had too many adverse reactions to too many drugs to even put down here. My combination of drugs that I CAN safely take is actually easier to write. I. am. the picture of an adverse reaction. My middle name is anaphylaxis.

Oh, boo freaking hoo. I know. I'm entitled to cry out just a little bit here. I am afterall, in agony once again. And frankly, I'm tired of it. Again. Feeling a gap closing that was looking open. I suppose that is the chronic lifestyle, isn't it. Don't get too comfortable in that normal-looking skin; it changes.

Hey, at least I found a pretty new nail polish to wear while I look and feel like crap. If only I can muster the energy and the tolerancy of the smell to put it on! You know, a girl's gotta look good! I do have my priorities; toes, fingers, clean sheets.......oh, and clean car windows are an absolute must have! Which reminds me, I need to wash the passenger window in my van of the dog snot. I know, gross.

Oh, speaking of pain! Frank. Not that Frank is a pain or anything, but Frank is having or rather going to be having a LOT of pain!! He will be getting a brand spanking new knee on the 18th! Yeah for Frankie!!! He needs it. Cause his knee is like shot, totally. I'll get a really good picture of the now and for sure some of the afters. And you know I'll be getting some of him in rehab. Poor guy.

Suffice it to say - our vaca in Va Beach - well, it ain't happening this year. Bummer for the kids. But, hey, the beach ain't going anywhere right! Health trumps vacation; that's the way we look at life here. That's the way we needed to last year when I couldn't go. and let's face it - there is no way he will be ready to travel by July. boy are we going to be a barrel of laughs.

Happy Day to someone out there.

Home, At Last

Well, Our Marine is safe at home. Here is with his very happy Dad and a buddy, Jake. (Jake is on the r, Dad in middle, Philip on the left) In this next pic, he's posing with his very adorable nephews. It was a steamy, hot day yesterday. The event was a graduation party. Even Rocco came. He made "friends" with a taco dog-a chihuahua.

Anyway, just wanted to post a few pics of our Philip. We are so thankful to have him home. Thank you for your prayers and to Jackie who was so thoughtful, to send him a Christmas card - thank you so very much! Your generosity means the world to us. You just don't know, thank you again.

God Bless the USA!

Hide and Seek

This is a little game of Hide and Seek. If you look real good, and I mean REALLY good, you can see a small creature in the picture. (hint, it's NOT the frog) Maybe if I give you say, another angle.......
Does that help? Let me just say that it was 90 degrees yesterday at 3:15 when I took this picture. Here. In my garden.

He was trying to evade the sweltering heat; and he is just too adorable for words. He did eventually make his way out, forgetting what he was doing.

We have come to realize that Bosco suffers from short-term memory loss. No joke. If he is outside, he will come to the door and beg to come inside; followed IMMEDIATELY, by the cries to go outside. Only to start over again by walking the length of the sidewalk, falling over, rolling, and coming back to the door and the crying again begins. This is an all day occurrance with Bosco.

At first we thought maybe he had a little kitty screw loose. But he just really resembles Dory the fish from Nemo. Short-term memory loss. Actually, Bosco and I don't really fall far from the same tree afterall. I find myself going from door to door and room to room, wondering why and where and what in the world I was doing, where I was going! What AM I doing next??? And why? I don't really remember. I just look at Bosco, he meows and rubs my leg. We walk to the door and wonder together. Maybe I should hide under a bush! Go figure - HA!

And as if parenting couldn't be any more fun!!! Tomorrow is the "Semi" at Cinderisa's school. Why they have this event really is beyond me actually. She is 14, in 9th grade. When I was in school, (here I go sounding like. my. parents. again.) right, we had the Jr. and Sr. Prom/Ball. no semi or anything like. We had dances once a month, which were fun.

Now, they have the Semi. Girls are expected to glam it up, parents are expected to allow it! For reasons, I won't spell out, we decided not to. Naturally, Cinderisa isn't going to this ball, and she is crushed. I understand her being very hurt, misunderstood, and all that goes into the teen feelings. However; I'm not for the manipulating teen parent-to-parent, shall I say parent-against-parent rally she is bribing. In this case. So she is, shall I say, learning a very hard lesson in teenhood. And I in parenthood. Either way, it sucks. She wants me to cave and let her go, because, afterall she has, as she says, "learned her lesson."

A part of me wants her to go and have fun with her friends and all that goes with it and on and on; but there is the conviction of the reasons WHY we said, "no" in the first place. To those reasons, we must stick. Sometimes parenting just plain out - SUCKS!

But I love her too much to fold. And though I cringe when I sound like my parents, I suppose it's a parental ring; and she too will jolt to it. So until her Jr Prom and Sr. Ball come around, she is going to have to wait, like we did, or I did.

Really, why must they rush to grow up? Why can't they stay little a little longer? She is going to be 15 this year! She only has three years left of high school, and I cannot believe it as I am writing this. It really does fly.

Yesterday, she said she was seriously considering teaching Special Needs Children. Well no kidding Miss Marisa. It is such a gift this child has been blessed with. And not only her, but the kids she works with on a daily and weekly basis in school. She has been working with Special Needs kids since the elementary level. It doesn't surprise me at all. She has a true heart, a caring and loving heart for them. And not just for Special Needs children, but for children in general.

Unlike the Cat Mawler, she will play with Nicholas and Vanessa - actually play with them. Yes, she gets irritated with them, she is 14! But she is generally nice to them. Chris, not so much. It's a battle for her to be nice. at. all lately.

Girls are mean. Boys are icky. Parenting is sucky business. At least Philip will be home tomorrow night! He will be able to toss in some reality to the big picture for them. I'm sure of that.

Here is someone sweet and lovely: This is Zio Corrado from Italy!

He will be with us for another month. Lastnight, we took him to Marisa's band concert. He enjoyed it, although he was very frustrated because he couldn't see her. She plays the drums, and she is in the waaaaay back of the orchestra. Their drumline also performed, which he really enjoyed. He is obsessed with Walmart, so I will be taking him there today to get more pictures developed. He has a seriously cool camera.

Ciao

Deborah

Marisa's First Parade

Memorial Day

This was the only flag I saw flown at half mast. I guess we were the only little village that did so. When I saw that American flags were replaced by swasticas, not once, but twice; not only did it make my stomach turn, but it enraged me. Where are the cowards now? Why do they do it in hiding? If they have something so loud and hateful to say, why not do it with a voice and a face?

Like Mother, Like Daughter. I believe that is the saying. Anyway, she marched in her first parade on Saturday, and I took lots of pictures. So she made a funny face for this one. Stinker.

This is Cassie, Marisa's friend. The 'other' blonde. I took lots of pictures of her, too. This first one, she smiled. By the end of the parade, she was rolling her eyes at me. Some vets, and a very serious picture of Marisa/aka/Cinderisa.

so serious. not wanting to be photographed.

A smiling picture of Philip at the beach in NC last week! He will be here in just a few days. Doesn't he look great? (oh, yes, girls he is single!)

Here he is with his Dad, Frankie. We cannot wait to have him home. We are so proud of this young man, and all of our soldiers; past, present and yet to serve. We humbly thank you all.

I had the great priveledge of taking down his yellow ribbon on Saturday. His Nonna wanted to leave hers up until he could see it. I suppose some will leave theirs until all of the soldiers return. Perhaps, I may invest in another for that reason. For now, I will go without, for OUR soldier is home on American soil. We will; however, continue to pray for those who are not.

Hey, on a bit of a good note; I am feeling some relief from the procedure I had last week. YEAHHHHH! Next week I go for an Occipital block and schedule the same procedure to be done on the left side. The residual stiffness is wearing off, slow but sure. And the spike is fading to a more dulling blow than the rather searing kind it usually sends. Hopefully, this will last for the three months it promises. One can only hope. If not, well, it doesn't.

He still is talking about the stimulator, and I must say, I'm a bit more reluctant to do so. As in, not at all interested. Thankfully, so is my insurance company. Naturally. No shock there.

Ok, time to feed the animals.

The Pretty Little Migraine

The pretty things that migraines are made of: they usually start with little specs and sparkles; remember, you're not sure if you see that distant light. You know you don't want to see it; and as sure and as fast as it appeared, it is just as quickly gone. With eyes closed, you search for it.

With modern technology, being what it is, I used Photbucket, and these are the prettiest pictures I've come up with, and the closest to my own aura to show you, my internet blog friends just what it is to live a moment in my migraine. No two are alike. And for those that experience them - WARNING! SOME ANIMATIONS DO AGRIVATE MIGRAINE!

Once the spark and/or spec, or little light has had it's fun and games with it's disappearing act, it has now decided to bounce around just a little and add some color and sound. I have no sound effects.

Now this little gem usually only comes in red and a muted grayish yellow. And is always and I mean, ALWAYS, followed by nausea. (like now, if I look at it, it's making me real queazy.) There is also the sound of a screaching, distant brake, not like anything I've ever really heard before. It comes on the right side, pierces my ear - to the effected side, of course - and is followed immediately with the most intense and excrutiating blow to back of my neck, which then is followed by a force trying to work it's way from the back of my head and out of my eye. And at no great speed, I might add. It is all in a very slow and agonizing motion.



At the moment, my shoulder blades seem to be trying to touch each other and in unison, are trying to become one and grow into , oh I don't know, my eyebrows maybe. The tension that has been building from lack of sleep, cryoanalgesia (pleaseohpleaseohpleasework!!!), everyfreakingday stresses (not even going there), and just plain tired of feeling like this day after day after freaking day.



No, don't get me wrong, I do have good days. And I do thank my Lord for them. But I hate dreadfully the bad days. Oh, here's a great picture!


The spike in the lower part of the picture; that is the one that drills the top of my head on an almost daily basis! Yes, that is the one. Slowly, and steadily it is pounded and pounded into the top of my head. And I cannot touch it, for it brings more pain to touch. Just leave it alone.



This morning when I got out of bed, there was darkness on my right side, followed by the numbing; in my mouth and down my arm. The sparkles and the spirals were there all night, along with the tension and the blows to the back of the head. I do believe that it may take some time for the procedure I had done on Thursday to work it's magic. Hey, if not, ther's always the infusion center.



In reality, I am tired of filling my body with drugs. I resent the idea that I must depend on so many of them to get through the day, to ward off just a little more pain. And sometimes, most times, it does me no good.





This is what today is looking like. It's sure looks pretty, doesn't it? As long as you don't suffer the fate of Migraine it does. But if you stop and stare long enough, or better yet, if you just take a quick peak, if you're one of me, it quickly sickens the stomach and brings on the pain. The numbing and tingling. The distant stare begins. I wonder if the person who made these pictures suffers like I.