It's rather tough to know how to start this. Let's just say that this is definitely the social group that suits me best. Normally, I'm not a social person, and have always been very reclusive. So reclusive that I live in the middle of a forest with no neighbors for as far as the eye can see. But there are times when you just need the company of others that may understand, at least to a degree. I guess I'll start where it all began to crumble.
For fifteen years I was a professional wildlife artist - touring the country to exhibit my paintings at about 25 wildlife art shows a year. That was my identity: artist. For some reason, my vision began to suddenly cloud over in my right eye and I was having a lot of mental confusion. I was forced to cancel shows on my venue because it wasn't safe to drive. Then my entire right side went numb, and after $13,000 worth of tests and hospitalization costs (and no insurance) I was diagnosed with MS (multiple sclerosis). My career was over.
In one fell swoop I lost my identity, my occupation, and my friends. All of my friends were other wildlife artists who also toured. Except for my husband. We were together for 24 years, and still deeply in love. He was the best friend that I'd ever had.
At this point, all that I could do was reboot. I could no longer paint in my favored style (hyper-detailed photorealism) because the MS had caused optic neuritis in my right eye and it was blown, and because of spasming in my arms - I had to find another occupation. Not easy for a woman of 54 who walks with a cane. But I did it! I became a CAD Designer. Now - when I screw up from a spasm on a computer, I could fix it! The company that I work for loves me and I love them and the job. Good save!
Then my husband was diagnosed with colon cancer. He battled long and hard for three years. Those years included surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, and surgical complications that required more surgeries. A couple of months ago he was admitted into ICU where he was put on a ventillator for three weeks. Eventually we were told that there was nothing more that they could do for him. The plug was pulled. Our love affair ended. It would be nice if he would at least haunt me occasionally.
It would be really easy to feel sorry for myself, but actually, I just feel bad for those that have never had the kind of love that we shared for nearly a quarter of a century. Still, I'm a mess. At the moment, what is driving me crazy the most is that I've just had all but 11 of my teeth pulled in preparation for dentures. The 11 that remain in the front HURT and aren't worth a damn for chewing. My body feels like a train wreck. To quote my favorite bumper sticker: "Where am I? And what am I doing in this handbasket?"
On the bright side: I'm not smoking anymore, and haven't for nine and a half months.
For fifteen years I was a professional wildlife artist - touring the country to exhibit my paintings at about 25 wildlife art shows a year. That was my identity: artist. For some reason, my vision began to suddenly cloud over in my right eye and I was having a lot of mental confusion. I was forced to cancel shows on my venue because it wasn't safe to drive. Then my entire right side went numb, and after $13,000 worth of tests and hospitalization costs (and no insurance) I was diagnosed with MS (multiple sclerosis). My career was over.
In one fell swoop I lost my identity, my occupation, and my friends. All of my friends were other wildlife artists who also toured. Except for my husband. We were together for 24 years, and still deeply in love. He was the best friend that I'd ever had.
At this point, all that I could do was reboot. I could no longer paint in my favored style (hyper-detailed photorealism) because the MS had caused optic neuritis in my right eye and it was blown, and because of spasming in my arms - I had to find another occupation. Not easy for a woman of 54 who walks with a cane. But I did it! I became a CAD Designer. Now - when I screw up from a spasm on a computer, I could fix it! The company that I work for loves me and I love them and the job. Good save!
Then my husband was diagnosed with colon cancer. He battled long and hard for three years. Those years included surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, and surgical complications that required more surgeries. A couple of months ago he was admitted into ICU where he was put on a ventillator for three weeks. Eventually we were told that there was nothing more that they could do for him. The plug was pulled. Our love affair ended. It would be nice if he would at least haunt me occasionally.
It would be really easy to feel sorry for myself, but actually, I just feel bad for those that have never had the kind of love that we shared for nearly a quarter of a century. Still, I'm a mess. At the moment, what is driving me crazy the most is that I've just had all but 11 of my teeth pulled in preparation for dentures. The 11 that remain in the front HURT and aren't worth a damn for chewing. My body feels like a train wreck. To quote my favorite bumper sticker: "Where am I? And what am I doing in this handbasket?"
On the bright side: I'm not smoking anymore, and haven't for nine and a half months.
