Adios 2015

I don't know what to feel about this coming year. I was so optimistic about 2015, and it certainly didn't work out the way I had planned or hoped. Maybe, if I look forward with no expectations, it'll be good? Ultimately, tomorrow will be what it is regardless of my plans.

No idea what I am doing. I'm not gonna bother with resolutions when I'm still figuring out what the new normal is.

I guess what I can say is this; another year under the belt, for what it was worth. Hopefully most of us managed to make this world a better place for at least one person.

It certainly wasn't all bad. As years go. Lots of bad to be found, sure, but plenty of goodness too.

Lost some people. Good people that will certainly be missed. No amount of time makes that easier. But also had some new people arrive. I got to know and come to truly love and appreciate some really amazing people.

I learned that I am loved and cared for than I could have fathomed. I also learned that not everyone I had thought was in that "loved and cared" for me in the past group was sincere. Live and learn.

I spent some way overdue time with my family. It's nice to know where your crazy comes from.

Saw WAY more of the inside of hospitals and doctors offices than I wanted. Still, I am grateful to have the ability to go get treated.

So I guess if I had to sum it up, 2015 is done and we can't change that. 2016 is coming and we can't stop it.

The only control we have is over our own hearts and minds. May we love, help, build up others, and for the sake of all things holy and unholy, be rational and avoid giving in to fear or ignorance. Look for the good and if you can't find it, be the good.

When you can't fight the tides in your life anymore, breathe and float with the current a little while. See where it takes you. It's OK to concentrate on just keeping your head above the water when you need to. We can't always be at the helm. (And other ship metaphors)

And above all else. LAUGH. You have to. Not a single one of us can add a millisecond to our lives by taking everything so seriously. Laugh your ass off in the face of everything that is scary or sad or aggravates you. You may look crazy, but you'll be laughing. And that means you win.

Long overdue update and a teeny tiny winge.

Well. It's been a little while since I posted. Things have been busy here, just like in the homes of most people this time of year. Let's come up to speed.

I guess the best way is to do it in order.

They repo-ed my car. That happened. I tried to work with them, but in the end it apparently wasn't enough. Which is pretty craptastic. Attempting to ride the bus in my usual physical state is really difficult. Especially in this town. the closest grocery store is 2.3 miles from my house. Not an awful walk, if I was good at walking, or able to carry enough groceries on my back to feed 5 people, like a pack mule. The bus system in Vegas is abysmal at best, and getting to the doctor, store, pharmacy has been challenging. Speaking of getting to the doctor, we get to talk about the next part of the update.

I got to ride an ambulance last month again! Weeeeeeee! I woke up in an extra special amount of pain. To describe it most accurately would be this. If you've ever broken a bone, you'll likely agree that the initial breakage hurts, but not like the deep throbbing you have the next day. We start with that kind of pain, add to it the sensation of pins and needles, like when your foot falls asleep, and then set that whole mess on fire. That is the most accurate description of the pain that I felt/still feel often. This pain consumed my left arm and hand and spread across my chest. I was scared witless. I tried to reach any and everyone I could think of to take me to the hospital, and finally just gave up and called 911. The type of Scleroderma I have can affect the heart. Also I'm diabetic. Double heart risk whammy. You don't take chances with pain like that. So off I zipped in the ambulance, surrounded by muscular firemen, to my usual hospital. Where they pretty much immediately decided I was staying and started the battery of tests.

Me wearing the ultimate in fashion. The blue hospital gown and coordinating telemetry monitor.

My heart as it turns out is pretty ok. Leaflets of my aorta are mildly calcified, but not too much, not enough to worry about yet. But what they did find is that my spine is a hot mess. Especially the C6 and C7 in my neck, The ones my Dr told me can be affected by my Scleroderma. Basically, my nerves are being constricted by my own vertebrae. It bought me 3 days in the hospital. It wakes me up almost every night. On top of the other joint pain. It will get worse. I don't know that it can be fixed.

But it's not ALL bad news. My Go Fund Me has been a huge help. We aren't debt free, but we certainly dug a nice chunk out of what we owe, and haven't been evicted. We even still have electricity! And speaking of my apartment, the managers have obviously noticed that we are struggling. So they showed up on our doorstep with a box of Christmas dinner. I cried.

A lovely surprise supper. 

 The holidays have been nice. Got to celebrate with my family in a very cozy and relaxed fashion. AND I got lots of warm fuzzy socks to keep my toes safe and warm.

I am training to be a volunteer coordinator for the Have A Hart Day group in Las Vegas. I am hoping this allows me a way to still be involved in making the world a better place. Believe it or not, I wasn't studying to be a nurse for the gorgeous uniforms or glamorous hospital environment ...I wanted to help people. That hasn't changed a bit. I can hopefully coordinate from bed if need be.

Speaking of my RN schooling, I still don't know what I want can do there. I know working outside my home is off the table. Heck, working inside my home most days is off the table. But somehow, I miraculously maintained my GPA and am still financial aide eligible. So even if I don't know what I am going to do, I have the option to do something.

And now we come to the part where I get all whiny. Endulge me if you will. I need to get it out so I can get over it.

I am tired of being in this much pain. Other people get to live their lives, do normal things, I struggle for just the small things.

I know, I have a lot to be very grateful for. I AM very grateful for what I can do, and what I do have, and the support and love I receive. I know fully, that things could be a hell of a lot worse. It's why I give when I can, volunteer when I can and why any single one of you can count on me, to cheer for you, show up and support or listen to your troubles. That is not diminished by my pain.

But my pain is not diminished by those things either. I have never been an envious person. I never cared what the "Joneses" had. My grass is plenty green on my side of the fence.

Lately however, I find myself jealous of people. People who can sleep through the night without pain waking them. People who can plan things. People who can go enjoy the park. People who can wash their dishes without having to go lie down for a while afterwards. People who's family members don't have to worry if they are going to be "up to" things they want to do together.

So I apologize if I sound whiny. But I feel whiny today dammit. And I have been trying so very hard to be strong. That gets tiring.

And I am tired. Very, very tired.

Ok, I've said all I can say, and like it or not, you know know what I know. Such as it is.

Enjoy your New Year's festivities, kiss a pretty guy/gal/both/neither and let's bring on the next chapter of breaking our resolutions and seeing where 2016 takes us.

See you all next year. ;)

What's the big deal about today anyways?

November 17th has never been my favorite day.

It's the day I lost my first baby. I was way too young (14), and I probably would have been an awful mom at that age, but you can't help but wonder what would have been. I know I would have tried my best and I would have loved him or her with all I am. I never got to properly grieve and process the whole experience.

Everyone kept telling me it was for the best, because I was young. My parents were dealing with their own emotions: anger at me for being in that situation, pain of finding out in the worst possible way and because I didn't come to them before making such a big decision as becoming sexually active, fear because I almost died in the process. We all found out about my pregnancy together, because my little one had settled in my Fallopian tube, and it eventually ruptured. According to my doctor, I almost bled to death.

It was a day that changed everything. It's been a long time, and I don't dwell on it much, but still, I hate this day.

Historically since then, other bad crap has kinda centered around this day and week in November.

I had to have my gall bladder removed in an emergency surgery, November 17, 2007, during what was a very low part of my life. Alone, scared and in terrible pain.

This is also the same week of the year, (Nov 20 last year) that my hubby's appendix ruptured and I almost lost him.

 This November 17th hasn't been stellar either. Still muddling through severe pain in my joints, fighting a cold, all my kids are sick with me, but I want this day to have good memories from now on.

I feel like I need to do some sort of ritual or cleansing, or something, to reclaim November 17th. But I'm not sure what.

Any suggestions? Help me reclaim my November 17th?

Sorry for the babble. I just needed to get it off my chest. If you read this far, *hugs* thank you for following along on my rabbit trail.

Masks and other Deceptions

The vast majority of my life, I've been accustomed to wearing masks. Not literal masks, obviously, but figurative ones. We all do it. There's the mask we wear when we are at work. The one we have for dating. Masks for social interaction, the holidays, family gatherings, ect. Fitting in with polite civilized company requires effort. Most of us have parts of our real selves that we reign in and cover up as the need arises.

There are those who don't. You know the ones talk obsessively about their collection of mint in the box action figures from the 80s. The one who can go on at length about their cat, Mr. Fluffykins, who is obviously the reincarnation of Albert Einstein because he is so funny and smart. Those passionate, wonderful souls that we consider socially inept. The dweebs, the super geeks, the alpha nerds. I admire them. They are unashamed of their obsessions. They want to share their love of whatever it is that revs them up with anyone who'll listen, regardless of the ostracization that usually comes with.

I envy them. 

I have my masks. My Mommy mask. That tries to be happy and silly for my kids even if I don't feel that way. My social mask, which is worn when I am around people who ask you how you are doing, but don't really care what the answer is. It even has a catchphrase. "I'm great! How are you?" *smile and nod* The mask I wear for my Parents. The responsible adult who is doing just fine so they don't have to worry. 

The problem is, my disguises are wearing thin. I have so much darkness, fear and sadness welling up inside that it's seeping out. Like one of those scary halloween masks that drip fake blood when you squeeze the little plunger. 

Some people in my life have always been able to see through. But what happens when the rest see what a mess I really am? Because, I am a complete disaster behind my mask. I'm not calm. I'm not collected. I'm not happy. I'm scared. Tired to the point of collapse. In more physical pain than I let anyone see. The wolves are at the door and the debt piles up, because I can't work anymore. 

Who is really going to be around me when the mask won't hold up anymore. Because I don't even want to be around me. And certainly wouldn't blame anyone else for not wanting to be there anymore either.

Brand new Dreams?

The dream is this:

Good stable job, house, reliable car, 2.5 kids, dog, yard and neighbors you wave to, but never really speak to. It's what were all sold. It's what I've been working towards. I went back to school, knowing that if I could just get through, I'd reach that.

Now we come to where I really am. Living in an apartment that most of the time I afford by the skin of my teeth or by the mercy of a family member. No yard. A car that I am usually surprised is still in it's parking spot and not repossessed. I have my kids. But I can't give them nearly what they deserve. I have my adorable dog, and the poor little guy spends many a day laying in bed next to me because I can barely move.

Now, before you think this a "poor me" pity party. That is not what this is. I made many of the choices that led me here. I dropped out of college at 18. My credit is a mess because of decisions I made when I was going through my divorce. I am not looking for pity.
This is a post about what a person is supposed to do when the rug gets pulled out from under them.
Because after many mistakes, I made a good choice and went back to school to finish my nursing degree. I've been trying to slowly but surely build my credit back up so that eventually I could own a home. We even discussed and planned for one more little one.

Then life happened. Scleroderma happened. The woman who could work full time, get straight A's in school and keep her home more or less running smoothly, became the one who has been treated to 2 ambulance rides in one year. Days where I couldn't be stopped became days that I couldn't get out of bed.

These things we've discussed before. That hasn't changed in a year. We are still trying to find the right medicines to make this more manageable. What also hasn't changed is the dream.
I still want that home, that yard, even that little baby. But I have to change those dreams. I don't know what tomorrow holds. I do know I have no savings for a home down payment. I know that the medications that are meant to slow the progression of my illness cause serious birth defects if used during pregnancy.

Normally, I'm a person who is content to roll where the universe sends me. I know worry doesn't change a damn thing. But lately I find myself feeling robbed. I have been doing what I am supposed to. Working hard, getting an education, paying my bills keeping my karmic balance in the positive at all times. ;)

I liked my dreams. I want my pay off. I don't know what else to dream.

Maybe my focus was too narrow. Maybe I'm not being as flexible as I should. But I am not sure how to work past this roadblock.

How am I supposed to move forward?

Religion, Politics and The Great Pumpkin

WARNING! I've been up for a few hours crying, this may not be an enjoyable read and you are, as always, welcome to skip it if this is not your thing.

Kids. Did I tell you guys I have 3 kids? They aren't little anymore, which is both wonderful and painful at the same time. I miss their chubby little faces and the snuggles, and the times when the whole universe could be set right by a kiss and hug. It hurts that those times are behind me. But it is amazing to see the people they are becoming. Mostly.

Anyone who has kids can attest, as much as we'd like to mold them like beautiful clay, they come with personalities. Sometimes those personalities are very different from our own.

In my case, it isn't a bunch of bad friends, or drugs that are causing rifts. It's the influence of their father. I chose someone so radically different from me when I got married at the wise old age of 18. I'm a hippie born a couple of generations late, he's slightly left of Hitler in his social leanings.

I got myself out of there and have tried to be an example of what I would like my children to be in this world. He has influenced them too. "Where are you heading with this Kitty?" I'm getting there, don't worry!

Since my diagnosis, I have been making some changes to myself. Things I've always wanted to do. Things I didn't do, by and large because I've always been afraid to rock the boat. Well, when a Dr. walks in to a room and informs you that you may not make it to the picnic you planned at the end of the ride, you become a lot less scared of trying the waters.

Apparently, in the eyes of my children this makes me a Godless heathen. My daughter has been convinced that if she shows any skin above her ankles it's going to cause a bunch a men to be tempted to rape her. An idea that makes me see red, but that's what her dear old daddy has taught her. So me with my pink and purple hair, piercings and tattoos, I'm practically riding a rocket to hell. Leading a path of poor defenseless men ravaged by their uncontrollable animal urges to hump everything that moves with my "Look at me I'm a flashy harlot!" battle cry.

Normally, I could give a rats ass that they think that. I know it's not true. Eventually when life kicks their ass enough to give them some perspective, they will know it's not true.

But tonight has been one of those nights that just break you. I've had a week long very significant flare up. I could barely walk. I've been beaten down by my own body once again. My middle son had a minor health complication that I've also been dealing with and I am so tired right now. The physical exhaustion gives way to depression and then we're really having fun.

Almost like a shark smelling blood in the water, my daughter starts in. I was discussing my next planned piercing with my hubby, and she started right up. "I think you should take them all out." It isn't natural, why do you want to call attention to yourself.....blah blah blah. I usually don't engage her, as I get pretty frustrated by the end, but since I am already at the end of my rope, I did. I (quite politely considering the mood I'm in) told her she was welcomed to her opinion, but I felt she was being outdated and dogmatic and I would do as I liked with my body.

Fast forward an hour or so and my 17yr old is fucking vague booking me on Facebook. He posts, "It's not outdated or dogmatic, it's the word of God!"

I have bent over backwards to not only be a loving example and contrast to the authoritarian regime at their dad's house, but I have provided them every comfort, even when I had to give up my own, because that is what a mother does. I have no regrets about it. But to be reduced to the importance of a god damned vague posting on social media?

So yes I'm crying and yes it's probably dumb that I'm crying. But my kids are the only people have the power to really hurt me. And I'm tired. And I'm just done.

The Invisible Struggle Bus

I wanted to share something I went through yesterday. It is sadly becoming a common occurrence for me.

I was trying to bag my groceries at Winco and the cashier was giving me snotty ass looks because it took me forever. There are reasons for this.

A- Fingertips are usually numb. Makes opening their cheap ass bags near impossible.
B- my shoulders were not co-operative and decided grocery day was a good day to say "f**k you, squirrely chick!" And
C- I have chest pains almost everyday.  So lifting things, like grocery bags, is very painful.

On the outside I look cute as hell in my Lilo and Stitch dress with coordinated cardigan. On the inside I was praying for the sweet release of death so I wouldn't have to be embarrassed because I had to use herculean effort to do what should be an easy task. I have a disease that not only is "invisible" most people don't even know what it is. 

Does this girl look like she's hurting to you?

 I know, I shouldn't care what others think. I have enough to deal with already, but humans are social animals, we can't always help being affected by the judgements of others. Also I was angry at myself for letting it get to me. A lot of people couldn't deal with the hand I've been dealt, I keep playing the game none the less. I'm stronger than the judgmental glances and comments of others, aren't I?

Now, there are ways I can avoid situations like this. For example, in the future I will no longer attempt large shopping trips alone. My husband begged me not to go yesterday, while he was at work and the kids weren't home. I didn't listen. That's a whole other discussion, more on my Wonder Woman complex later. Ultimately though, I shouldn't have to deal with the judgement.

Anyways, this is all one convoluted way of saying, "Treat people with kindness, patience and empathy." You don't know what their demons are. And it really sucks to be on the receiving end of that judgement.

Back to school?

As some of you may or may not know, I have been going to school since forever to finish my degree and get my registered nursing license. I have thus far only been able to attend part time, while I worked full-time. I am proud of the progress I have made and I am fairly close to finishing. I registered for classes as usual last April. 

Then things got really crappy for me health wise. I knew I had an auto-immune disorder. What I didn't know was which one and how much harder things were going to get for me physically.

Now I am facing some pretty serious choices, with no time to really think about them. 

I'm not sure how many people are aware of or appreciate how demanding, physically and mentally, being a nurse is. Twelve hour shifts are typical and there is a dirty little phrase in the field called "mandatory overtime". When you sign your paperwork for pretty much any nursing gig, there's a little page in there somewhere that says that you HAVE to work overtime if the need arises. If you refuse, you could lose your license and potentially face criminal charges for patient abandonment. Add in the fact that nurses work really hard caring for people who can be rude, abusive, violent or just plain uncooperative, and then you have your cases that just break your heart.

Okay okay, I knew all of this when I started down this path. I was perfectly aware and prepared for this. I was prepared before Scleroderma. 

Now I am looking at being so close to finishing a degree that I very well may not be able to use. Where I am now physically, there is no way in hell I could work a 12hr shift on a hospital floor. 

At the same time, I am so far from any other degree and I am not interested in anything else. 

So, what do I do? I have come way too far to not graduate. I will be a college graduate. But do I really get a degree for something I may not be able to keep up with? Do I switch horses now and have to back track to get a different degree?  Either way my college loans are not going to be easy to pay with a check from disability if I can't work at all. 

For now, I am going to stay the course and keep working towards my original goal. I am worried, I am unsure, but I don't know what else to do. Hopefully I'll figure it out soon. Or maybe I'll win the lottery. That would work too.

Ch-ch-ch-changes and other unsettling entities

So, things are changing for me. Now, I know you're thinking, "Change is good!" But to you I say Pfffffffft! I have always feared and hated change. I'm the type that digs in their heels and resists as long as possible. Even good changes cause me serious anxiety. I could write an whole series of blogs about my insecurities, but I digress.
This is about my current batch of crazy. Since I've been diagnosed, I lost my job. This opened a whole can of worms for me. Not to go too far off topic, but in a long past life, I had no control of the money I earned. It was direct deposited into an account that I had no access to, because I let my abusive ex get away with treating me that way. I changed my life drastically and built a better one, but old scars run deep.

I am finding it so hard to let myself trust that my husband will take care of me. I feel like a burden.  What do I do if I am left high and dry with no way to support myself? I've been going to school and am very close to completing a degree that is in a field I probably won't have the physical ability to work in. Where do I go from here? How do I get over feeling like this and accept that I am worth caring for? Am I worth caring for? AAARRRRGGGGG!

Aside from all that, being diagnosed with a rare disease brings out all your crazy relatives, friends and others who can't wait to share with you the latest news, diet, fast, cleanse, or miracle supplement that can cure you.  Every one knows of someone who knows someone who cured their Scleroderma with sone magic juice or vitamin blend. I know that these people mean well. But the cold harsh truth is this. There is no cure for Scleroderma.  It wont just "go away". You can't pray, fast, juice, cleanse or diet it away. There are treatments that can lessen the severity of symptoms and possibly slow the progression of the damage. Goodness knows I'm on so many pills that my bathroom looks like a pharmacy. But this is the rest of my life. I pay an entire squad of educated medical professionals to help me manage this. I don't need old wives tales and magic charms. It's not that I don't appreciate that they want to help, but if you really want to help I have an ever growing list of chores I haven't been able to manage. I could use a dinner I didn't have to struggle to cook. Or even a massage or a hug would help.

So those are current crazy thoughts and gripes. If you read this, thank you for letting me vent. You are awesome.

Squirrel-a-derma and other Strange Twists.

Have you ever been too optimistic for your own good?

This is where I find myself at the moment. In the aftermath of just such a case of rampant optimism.

The week started with a bang. I had suffered 6 days in a row of chest pains. Sadly, this is not uncommon for me. No one has figured out why they happen.

I finally found myself desperate for relief and called my primary care doctor. Then I called my rheumatologist and begged for a sooner appointment.

I had been waiting to see her for almost a year. Cancelled appointments on my side due to life suckage. Cancelled appointments on their side compounded by a waiting 4 month waiting list every time we had to reschedule. This time they happened to have a cancelation 2 days from then. Finally.

Saw my regular doctor and I asked him to level with me. We had been throwing around the word Lupus. My Nanna has Lupus. But my antibodies have never come up positive for Lupus. I told him that I needed to know what I was really up against. Over the past year my health has gotten worse and worse. He said he was hesitant to diagnose me, the specialist might see something he missed. I insisted.  He said the word I didn't want or expect: Scleroderma. Then he said, "But wait til you see the rheumatologist. I still am hoping for Lupus" Hoping for Lupus. Such a strange phrase. But between the two,  I guess I was too. I'm familiar with it. Scleroderma, that was terrifying.

The next day my husband and I sat in the specialists exam room. She came through the door, very quickly introduced herself and almost in the same breath said, "You have a condition called Scleroderma." As easily as she was saying that the sky was blue. BOOM. She very quickly set up some orders in her computer for my medicines, pinched me everywhere on my skin to check for tightness. Then she added another med for my purple toes, Reynauds Syndrome. She told me what the plan was, to go get a bunch more tests, and she was gone. Maybe a half hour had passed at most. We sat stunned while the nurse printed out info and orders for tests, and sent us on our way.

Since then it's been an even wilder ride. My boss forced me to resign. It was either that or they fire me and I can't ever reapply. I've had to explain to my kids, my parents, my siblings, close friends, what I have, what it can do, and that I don't know how fast it will happen to me. Then I have answered calls later on after some of them went and Googled it even though I told them not to.

My kids seem to be coping. My daughter can't pronounce Scleroderma, so she keeps saying I have Squirrel-a-derma.  ;) I'm so glad my kids have my sense of humor. We've decided I'm going to become a super villian that commands an army of squirrels. Got to make up for my job somehow right?

So how does this rambling narrative relate to optimism? From the very first positive ANA, the pattern said it was either Lupus or Scleroderma. I optimistically thought it HAD to be Lupus. It was familiar, sucky but familiar. My doctor did the same. I never prepared for anything else. I was blindsided.

Despite that. I'm still optimistic. With everything going on, I have to be. I'm more cautious with my optimism, but it still survives.

Early Morning Thought Spiral

I woke up early this morning in pain. It's been that way more often than not lately.

As I lay there, I did my usual morning gauntlet of social media stuff. Until I noticed a text from my brother-in-law. We had been discussing the night before a dream I had, in which we were supposed to be married. I ran away to New York because I didn't want to get married to him (nothing personal) but it was okay because he wanted to be a space emissary. Like I said, it was a weird dream.

He had continued the conversation this morning by stating that he would never do anything like that. He wouldn't give up the certainty of having someone in his life for the unknown. What follows is the rest of the conversation, shared because it took a weird turn down the dark roads of my mind. The kind of thoughts I have when there is no one awake to distract me from them.

Me: True. You like certainty.
M: It's much better then a handful of nothing
Me: Indeed

This is kinda where it took the turn.....

Me: There is something to be said for spontaneity though.

Certainty is kind of an illusion. The only real constant in the universe is change.

I was certain I was going to work as a CNA til I got my nursing degree done. Now here I am. On medical leave til October, and I don't know what happens after that.

I have to look at it as an adventure though. I didn't choose to have Lupus or Scleroderma or what ever the hell they are gonna eventually diagnose me with. It just came into my life and shook up the certainty.

The only thing certain is that there is no cure for either of them and it has, and will continue to change my life, for better or worse. The adventure is trying to make the best out of the life I have now, and finding the people who are really down to ride out the road with me, bumps and all.

And finding the bravery to believe I am worth riding with. I live in constant fear that the burden of me and this illness is too great and eventually everyone will just get tired of me and leave.

Heavy stuff at 8am.

But this is where I live these days. Right or wrong, these are the thoughts I have. As I understand it, this isn't uncommon for someone with a chronic or even long term condition. The fear of being a "burden". The thought that the people in your life won't tolerate you forever.

Perhaps it's my low self esteem. I have always struggled with feelings of inadequacy. There are other experiences I've had in the past that also add to the doubt I feel.

Why do I allow myself to let these voices win? I have other voices in my life that counter act the doubt. I'm a smart person. I've always been capable. I'm raising 3 pretty amazing kids that I'm confident love me. I have a husband who has repeatedly told me my fears of abandonment are ill founded as far as he's concerned. He isn't going anywhere, he says. I have supportive and loving parents and extended family. And, not that it matters too much but I'm not too hard on the eyes. The positive voices in my life far outnumber my own negative ones. Yet, I find myself many mornings and late nights too, listening to the lesser voices in my life. The fear. the doubt.

Perhaps it's human nature. We place a lot of stock in what a person has accomplished or what they own. Their means determine their worth. It could also be that I work in a field where all I do is care for other peoples "burdens". I don't see them that way at all. But in some cases their families did, so they sent them away. Sometimes they themselves think they are a burden and apologize every time they need care. I see vibrant individuals with soul and so much love and wisdom to impart, they look in the mirror and see helplessness. Before, I could never understand when a person who needed my help would apologize for "bothering" me. I was there to help.

Now I find myself apologizing.
"I'm sorry I'm not energetic today."
"I'm sorry but I need to go back bed, I'm wiped"
"I'm sorry, dinner is nothing special tonight"
"I'm sorry that I can't come to your party...."

I guess if there is any point to this other than being a catharsis for me, it's that we need to be kinder to ourselves and others in times of need. Life can change in an instant. After all, change is the only constant in the universe. A little more kindness all around, might make us more equipped to roll with those changes and face the adventure.