People who do not have wls and dip into PCM for many a reason have to follow a tight regime what ever that may be to bring you out of it. To read things on the boards like giving blood, keep trying to work out, keep pushing one's self past the point of good just makes no sense. Until this after care with all wls gets better we are just seeing so much that doesn't have to be. Now as I lay here I am tired, low hemoglobin, low red cell, low iron, ect. Had my fusion three weeks ago and still not getting any effects. Hanging on till tomorrow with hemo to see the labs and what we can do. Canceled trip to Orlando w/grandkids staying at Magic Kingdom, just can't do it. Made other arrangements to Destin Florida. We have a condo on the ocean. Will be flying with wheel chair in hand. I can walk for small amount of time, but when it gets to the point of having to choose between talking and walking wheel chair becomes my friend. Glad to see it go, but smiles big when she comes back to me when needed.
I often think of my sister who past away a few months ago. She wanted so bad to have a DS. She was a nurse but disability's with mental health issues kept her from working. What I go through to keep my health and appearance up are a full time job. Knowing no way could she do what I do made me sad. But knowing she was suffering was making me sadder. So when the time came and passed it was with a open heat for me that she left this earth. Too much suffering in her life and it was time to go. As strong as I like to believe that I am to watch my sister get a DS and go into depression, manic episodes and not take her vits, and eat right, not drink her fluids because she is just so tired was something I knew would happen. She has a pattern of this with her psy. meds. Diane if your tired and can't eat or drink or take your meds, let's get you into the hospital. Nope. So we wait until she becomes suicidal and then we go.
My mother wanted a beauty queen, Oldest sister became that. Wanted a athlete youngest son became that. Us middle one's were the luckiest. Diane being the next oldest wanted all the attention her older sister was getting from being a beauty queen. From the time she was 4 she was in the paper, awards, traveling, costume's, Miss Purdue ect. Now Diane was just as pretty as Denise but one beauty queen was all that was needed to fill the void. So I watched my sister try her whole life to measure up to something she was never suppose to be in the first place. She was shy, quite, caring, liked to sew and do art when she was young. Didn't want to date much. Liked staying at home and marching band was her thing. Denise was cut throat, No.1, you know the harshness it takes to be on top of beauty being competitive and stay there. Anyhow what leads me to writing about all this is the hidden desire I seen so real in Diane wanting to be so thin and have all the boys like her. At her age of 55 one would think this would have faded over the years. As soon as she started the process of getting WLS all this unresolved beauty pageant stuff started coming out. How she was going to be so beautiful and all the guys would want her then. Diane was married for 25yrs. to a dead beat who molested her 3 children. She had been divorced for 10 years before she died and never dated in that time period. Diane need I remind you that you and Denise looked exactly alike throughout you childhood and into adulthood. All the guys would come to you and say, Denise? You would tell them no I am Diane and then get mad at Denise. You could never see how beautiful you were because your anger at mom and Denise for not letting you become a beauty queen. Your anger, hurt, self pity made you not pretty as you grew older, not your appearance. Sure Karen you were always fat and a tomb boy, these things you never wanted so you can't possible understand. All these years I reminded my sister I was not thin like you and the others but I was not fat don't recreate history. Today I realized she was incapable of seeing me not fat my whole family need me in that role, filled that void for them. I never bought into it. Diane until the day she died thought being a size 2 at 55 would just be wonderful.
The gift that was given to me by not having to witness my sister go through this is truly a blessing. Having said that, the selfish me longs for our time of intimacy only her and I had. Loving someone with mental illness is a gift unto oneself.
