There have been only 3 times in my life when I have felt like dying:
1- Giving birth two my 2nd daughter. I had gained so much weight with her that I managed to have 4 more pregnancies with out getting one more stretch-mark. She weighed in at 8.3lbs and they only went down from there. The last was 6.13lbs.
2- When I lost our 2nd twin, Hunter, and needed a D& C but the Packers were on and the Doctor needed to finish watching the game before he came to the hospital.
3- This past week. I had such a bad case of the abdominal, I wanted to die!!!!!! It was the kind of “I want to die” that you pray for during labor knowing that you are out of your mind, and are just waiting some kind of drug to take away the pain.
However, I still could knit. I was a knitting whore, a knitting prostitute. Call it what you will. If you don’t knit, you would not understand. I would have done anything to feel better. I admit it… I could not control myself!! I have knitted a hole in my finger with size 8 needles. Not a size, 1, 2 or 3’s but size 8!!!! I have managed to finish the pair of socks. I had been working on for a month. With the 2nd sock, I had to rip out 3/4ths of it to fix the mistakes I made. I also knitted a dishcloth (I know, imagine that, as your roll your eyes, dishcloths #29), 3 hats, and now on my 4th hat, all the while praying to the porcelain god! I didn’t even knit once during the 10 hrs we spent at the Drs/hospital, and I still managed to accomplish that much knitting. To be honest, I didn’t knit at the Drs/hospital because I didn’t want to. The IV in the crook of my right arm really mananged to hinder my ability to knit. (I did try!!) I also knew that the chances of anyone proving to anyone in the medical profession that I was SICK meant not knitting. I just knew that if someone was not a knitter, they would not understand. Knitters knit during times of sickness and health, for better or worse, till death due us part. It’s what we do… It’s what we ARE.
I will leave out the gory details of my sickness or results for the stalkers of this blog. AKA, Ex’s in a whole roundabout drama circle. Ex-husband, ex-friend, ex-family members, ex’s new significant others….. I really am done with the whole “ducking” drama. I am sure they would leave comments but they can’t because their IP’s are banned, but I can still tell they are reading just based on their ISPs. (I do not blog for their enjoyment or their gossip.)
During my period of wishful death #3, I could tell you at a moment’s notice what was going on with the world. Hurricane IKE (If you just add an A at the end and it would be IKEA- I know IKE is not as great as IKEA), when it was going to land, what it was doing, where it was going, all the time thanking GOD it didn’t harm the people I know and care about in Texas. I could give you a status at 12am, 2 am, and then again at 5am. Obama, and what he was talking about. Palin, and where she was. McCain, and what he was doing. I kept asking myself, “Where’s Biden?” Not so much about him these days, but then again he doesn’t wear lipstick. At least not that we know of!
Also during this period of wanting to die, I managed to take Mr. P’s and my relationship to the next level. I had to break down and ask things of him that I have never asked of him before. Certain things I needed from the pharmacy, which took HUGE courage on my part and a ton of sweat on his part. I could tell that he wanted to get the right things to make me feel better without screwing up. The look in his eye as he rubbed my head, laid by me, took care of the 7 children, and just plain did what he felt needed to be done to take care of the family even though he felt helpless. I also never heard such a voice in him as when he said to me, “Get dressed NOW, you know you need to go to the doctor. Let’s go.” It was that kind of tone in man that you do not want to disagree with!!
Then came the first dinner I finally could and wanted to eat. You see, Mr. P is the most excellent Pizza maker EVER!!!!!!!!!! It was at this point that I was on my way to wanting death #4, FOOD or DIE! Not F O D, but real down-right good food. We have a blended family ritual, and it is pizza. We sometimes have cardboard pizza, home-made pizza, make your own pizza, or in this case… St. Louis Pizza Crust (frozen from a pizzeria), my special home-grown pizza sauce, and what ever else we could want on a pizzeria-type pizza. We always save our pizza for the last. Let the gremlins eat their hearts out and we make ours last. Here is how it went down….
Stretch-Mark #2 – “Mom, you are sooooooo going to love your pizza”
Me – “Oh, really?”
Stretch-Mark #2 – “He is making it just for you”
Me- “What do you mean?”
Stretch-Mark #2- “He’s looking through the fridge and found some really gross stuff! Stuff only YOU will eat, that kind of gross.”
Ok, enough. The Pizza is so blog-worthy…
You see, he made his ½ with everything he loves and my ½ with everything I love, and mostly of things he wouldn’t eat. I had mushrooms, garden sliced tomatoes, bacon, onions, etc. all evenly distributed, so it baked perfectly even. Must be love… Or at least a deep state of like.