This was written May 2004. Never thought of posting it then. But I now decided to take it out of "moth balls" Perhaps one of the reasons I never did post, I know I need to do plenty of polishing in my written work. Also never having been encouraged over the last 18 years certainly hinders the mind. However, now just over a year since I started writing, decided I need to start somewhere, and what better place than here. I did a bit of tidying up in a couple of areas, although not perfect, I will get better :-)

Love to All
Elga

Lost and Found





..... now, as I write this, it is dark out, and I have the electric fire going, as the nights are not so pleasant.  I have 9 of my 23 pets gathered around me, sleeping soundly, the absolute serenity, quietude.  How right it is about lost and found, about familiar pathways, and then different surroundings, perhaps I too know of these.

 It all started in 1997, soon after I had nursed a terminal friend of mine who was diagnosed with cancer.  I stood by her day and night, often slept at her place to keep an eye on her.  Often didn't sleep, I bathed, cleaned, fed and dressed her.  It was a long battle, and I prayed that God would spare her, but unfortunately, it was not to be.  After she passed away, my troubles began. Hence this is when I did start losing, not only myself but everything else pertaining to life.  The familiar pathways were no longer visible. Only un-chartered territories lay ahead.  Yes I had lost a good friend, and I had started to lose my way.

I was an outsider looking in on myself, and wondering “what am I doing here?”  Feelings of absolute terror, not being able to remember what I had done five minutes before, shaking constantly, suffering the most excruciating headaches, loss of hair, looking old and haggard, broke more crockery than I care to remember, not eating yet putting on tremendous weight, nausea, constant apprehension and fear were my closest companions, and admittedly, bed and sleep was the safest place for me, my comfort zone.  In fact, so close I came to almost losing my life.   Unfortunately unbeknownst to me, and often, seeking medical advice from my GP, his response was, “You are just a neurotic woman, go home and take a couple of painkillers” was I losing the plot?  NO, only many months later, after talking to my gynaecologist, and doing some blood tests, it was in fact discovered my thyroid gland had stopped working altogether, when this happens, your other functions too stop working, or don’t work as effectively, I wasn’t far off losing my life, I was clinically hypothyroidic, (my readings were 79.8 ideally they should be between 0.35 -5.50) close to lapsing into a coma.

The only support that I had ever wanted, that of my husband, one to  help me find  my way once more, take me out of this haze in which I found myself in. To show me the way home, not to feel lost, comfort me, tell me that it was OK, was not forthcoming - lest it be in the sense of being called “a fat lazy bitch” in front of my gynaecologist,  and told to get to grips with myself.  Even with the efforts of obtaining detailed information regarding hypothyroidism, and the copies of the blood results and handing said to him, he still wanted more proof!

In September 1999 I nursed my husband through a double bypass, never questioned and always supportive.  Through all this, also giving my two sons the love and support that they most needed at this time of sheer trauma.  The fear that these two little boys then aged 10 and 12 respectively, felt with the thought that they may lose their father, was so difficult. Trying to console, comfort and reassure them that everything would be fine, maintaining the daily chores, and still having to find the time with visits twice or three times to the hospital.  I was now mommy and daddy to these two little boys.  After several months, things did start to look up, we began to find, once again that family unit that we had “lost” just several months before.  The family was once again found, and things were back to normal, until the next unexpected visitor was to make its appearance.

In January 2000, after a visit to the gynaecologist and a pap smear, it was discovered that the results were not good, it was suggested that I book in for a cone biopsy and hopefully that would resolve the problem.  By mid February, I had booked in, and had the cone biopsy done, the Gynae seemed quite positive, although I was told to go back six months later for another pap smear.  This being the standard procedure, so by August I had the following test, yet felt pretty confident that all would be just fine… but it was not to be, it was confirmed that I had the start of uterine cancer, it just felt unbelievable, how could this be? We had just had the last upheaval, and now this.  A full hysterectomy was the call of the day, and the concern was, had it spread to the glands, this would not be known until I was being operated on, thankfully it was contained. So I lost something, but found I had my life, what more could any mother, wife want or need.  I wasn’t given much sympathy and within 4 weeks I had no option but to face the daily routines, however, I was battling to cope.  Unfortunately things were not as clear cut as they seemed, my strength totally sapped.
 
Could it be that I was not doing enough, not offering enough, perhaps I hadn’t been kind or supportive enough to my fellow humans.  Perhaps! I guess once again I was feeling a little lost.

These constant daily battles I found myself in, eventually led me once again to the doctors rooms, more bloods, it was a confirmation, which I neither wanted nor felt I deserved, "Chronic Fatigue Syndrome".  A rollercoaster of losses and founds is where I have been for the last 7 years.  Grappling at every thread, trying to hold on and keep the faith.
 
Confusion, a mere state of mind, an illusion that you allow yourself to believe, when you have been so hurt.  I understand that simple things to some may seem unimportant, when their lives may seem to be so fulfilled – but are they?

Perhaps finding myself has been in the form of poetry and expression, in the best way I can.   If my mind is a boiling pot full of emotions and ideas, then I am truly fulfilled in that respect, and the world has shifted positions under my feet. 

I am not indifferent to others needs, and believe that they too may be going through a “lost and found” situation, therefore I am here to console and comfort those who feel both lost and found.


I have FOUND myself, yet lost myself. –
Yet I am found.
 
These may not be eloquent words, but they are honest. 


So talk to me about lost and found – the distinction is so uncanny!
9 May 2004 – Elga ~Indigo~