Oh fickle hope! I woke this morning feeling quite refreshed. no pain. Not daring to get up yet, I lay in bed for the next 45 minutes, letting my mind wander … mostly enjoying the sensation of being pain-free. I stood up carefully. Wait, wow, had my stomach become less distended? Could this be a feel better day? (Soft flute music in background)

But no! (Background music is orchestral with ominous overtones … fade out). Fickleness took control of all my poops and each of the 5 times I went to the bathroom, I cried out loud. Maybe screamed a little too. I tried talking to the pain. Making deals. Soothing words and gestures. Reminding myself to breathe.

Sound familiar? I’ve never experienced the joys of labor pains. I had three cesareans, each planned 10 days before the babies’ due date. I never experienced labor but I’ve heard

That labor pain is high on the pretty epic pain scale. So respect mothers. I literally feel your pain.

Once I was sufficiently cleaned out, my disease relented. RSO has made the rest of the day relatively pain free. And yes, we are still chasing down pain management sources.

So, as a refresher, RSO is a strong strain of medical marijuana. RSO gives me much appreciated pain relief but the price is ….you remembered! Lethargy. But lethargy gives me time to write and the RSO provides inspiration. My inert exercise routine has become mentally stretching across words, carefully selecting this one and discarding that one….juggling conflicting and often fluid emotions. Crawling through tight spaces filled with pain and sorrow and finding the funny even when it is irreverent. (Apparently the brand I share with my sons). You know what? Thanks lethargy!

I have always liked to write. In fact, little known fact. I won a writing contest when I was 7. I used the prize money to adopt a cat named CC which stood for curious cat. I should have held out for more then $1 though. Later that year, my brilliance was apparently stolen, turned into a clever jingle in a local milk commercial. It was a long time ago but it still stings.

I kept writing throughout my life. As a stay at home mom, I had the time or made the time, to hand type and illustrate Baby newsletters for all the boys. I remember a story I titled “the shot heard around the world”. It detailed baby Jake’s first inoculations. I then printed, made copies of, folded, put in an envelopes, addressed, licked, put a stamp on and put it in to a mailbox. —How much nicer is this online blogging?

I love our small community and love the interactions. The comments, emails and texts. I love hearing how the journal has touched, taught, empowered or otherwise made a difference. Please keep talking back to me. And, share the blog address with people who would enjoy or benefit. Use it to start conversations. The journal is out there so let’s give her air to breathe and a life of her own.