Ramblings of a Ringless Wife

Ringless Wife, Messy House, Cluttered Brain. All in a standard day.

June 20: Anger

I allowed myself four days off blogging, safe in the knowledge that I would be able to catch up. Why did I give myself these days off? Because for the last few days, I have been angry. Not just “Oh, you pissed me off” angry – but Hulk, “I want to high five you in the face with a chair” angry. Why? Because these are the days that coincide with my “I’m a depressed head f**k” days.

Every now and then, I get days of pure rage. Everything makes me want to scream, nothing seems to go right, A cup not put in the sink can make me see red. I know that when it does happen I need to isolate myself a little bit, take a step back and just breathe.

I am shocking in that when I am angry I take it out on people who don’t deserve it. I don’t mean to do it, I just become much more caustic and volatile, my sarcasm reaches new heights and I imagine peoples heads stuck on totem poles as warning signs to not come near me.

I get cranky over things that aren’t worth it, I over-react to them in ways that just need not happen, and I end up hurting people with my words that I just can’t hold in. Even if the person has been perfectly fine, courteous, whatever, I still have an irrepressible need to just tell them to shut the f**k up because they’re letting their inner moron shine through.

I become something rather nasty, a mere shadow of myself, and basically, not nice to be around. The bit that’s ironic is this is when thoughts that I normally ignore came raring through, I feel alone and isolated, and need people. I need someone who tells me to get the eff over it, and people to tell me that it’s all going to be ok, and to show me that I am not a bad person. I get cranky because people aren’t there for me, but I know that in these days I push them away. Doesn’t make sense, does it? Hey, I want you to come visit me, but I’m going to abuse you, so don’t come… but if you don’t come, you’re going to cop it anyway. Leave me alone because I’m lonely. Have a nice day!

I know that this is an aspect of depression that most people who have suffered it have lived through. I don’t know why it happens when it does, but I know that when it does I want people to see that it’s when I hurt the most that I swear I’m OK. I want people to say “I know you’re not OK, but you will be. One day.”

I want to have the guts to say to people, “You know what? I’m not OK. I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared.” But I don’t. I doubt I ever will.

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April 25: They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, We will remember them.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Today is a day which every Australian, new or old, stops for a moment; they think of the lives that were lost, the lives that came home, and the lives that came home ruined.I start every ANZAC day at 4am. I get up, Put more clothes on than I will probably need, and make a pilgrimage to the local war memorial. I stand there for the dawn service, surrounded by my family, who all create a wind buffer for my ANZAC grandfather. We spend just 20 minutes a year, so not a big sacrifice, in the bitter cold; we stand tall and proud, not just of my Pop who wears his medals upon his aged chest, but of all the service men and women who work and sacrifice their lives to keep our Country safe.

I always shed a tear at the Last Post. I am now while it’s playing on the computer. This bugle sound is more than a few notes put together in a pleasing tune: It is the sound that called men and women to their deaths, and it is the sound that we use to acknowledge them and their sacrifice and what they gave so we could live in the Australia we do today.

I may not always be happy with my Country, and I may not always like the way we have headed – but I am always so proud of our Army Troops, our Diggers, our long passed Rats of Tobruk. It took me a long time (I was 19 before I first went to a Dawn Service – and it changed my view completely) to realise the amount of respect, dignity, honour and appreciation that our Diggers deserve. They perform a job from which they may not return so I can sit on my back porch and speak English.

In WW1, Australians paid a heavy price. We had a population of less than 5 million and 416,809 men enlisted. Of that 416,809,  over 60,000 were killed and 156,000 were wounded, gassed, or taken prisoner. As it was for a lot of countries, it was the most costly War in terms of casualties. Almost 10% of our Nations population suited up in camouflage, kissed their families and sweethearts good bye and left proudly, excitedly, and above all, honourably.

In WW2, between 3 September 1939 – 30 June 1947, There were 39366 Australian military deaths and 735 civilian deaths. Our population was roughly 6 million, and 2 million soldiers signed up. 33% of our population fought for our freedom, again.

Today, I sit here and I give thanks, appreciation, and several tears for the men and women who helped save our country, who died for our country, and who continue to strive for the Peace most humans want.

Today, I sat and just looked at my Pop, and my heart broke for the children, grand children, and families of those who weren’t as lucky as my family was.

Lest We Forget.

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January 9th: I come from the Land Down Under… so I check for Melanoma!

If I was to say Melanoma, what would you think?
If i was to say, “have you been checked?”, how would you respond?

A melanoma only millimetres deep can Kill you.

So what is “Melanoma?”

Scientifically:

The most dangerous form of skin cancer, these cancerous growths develop when unrepaired DNA damage to skin cells (most often caused by ultraviolet radiation from sunshine or tanning beds) triggers mutations (genetic defects) that lead the skin cells to multiply rapidly and form malignant tumors.  These tumors originate in the pigment-producing melanocytes in the basal layer of the epidermis. Melanomas often resemble moles; some develop from moles. The majority of melanomas are black or brown, but they can also be skin-colored, pink, red, purple, blue or white. Melanoma is caused mainly by intense, occasional UV exposure (frequently leading to sunburn), especially in those who are genetically predisposed to the disease

(www.skincancer.org)

We’ve all seen the ads – how tanning is unhealthy, even if you want that glow. Some doctors in the US are crediting Twilight actually, because of the way they have made “pale and pasty” a new in-thing.

We all know what to look for: a change in the shape, colour, height or width, or for increased itchiness.

But when you see these signs, do you go and get them checked?

I know I do, and I have a scar on the side of my face to attest to that fact. Although, to be completely honest, I wasn’t always this meticulous about my moles. It was when my Nonno, whom I love so very dearly, was diagnosed with one on his arm.

It scared the absolute bejeebus out of him, and my nanni, and the whole family. He had it successfully removed, but he still needs 6 monthly check ups, even when they venture OS later this year.

Australia is renowned for its hot sun, blazing summers and tropical beaches. But these little facts of every day living in our great country come with a lot of risks – ones which aren’t always heeded.

Melanoma represents 9.5% of all cancers, with more than 10,300 cases diagnosed annually. The risk of being diagnosed by age 85 is 1 in 15 for men and 1 in 24 for women.

In 2008, there were 1430 deaths from melanoma.

Surgery can be curative for thin melanomas and requires that the melanoma be removed with at least 1–2cm of normal skin around it. If the draining lymph nodes are involved they are removed.

For thick melanomas some cancer centres offer high dose interferon after surgery, however many offer clinical trials of vaccines because there is no routine therapy mandated. Surgery should be the mainstay of treating relapsed melanoma if it is possible to remove all of the disease.

For widespread disease, chemotherapy is borderline effective and drugs such as dacarbazine can palliate symptoms, as can biologicals like interferon or interleukin 2. Radiotherapy may palliate local symptoms

An individual’s prognosis depends on the type and stage of cancer, as well as their age and general health at the time of diagnosis. Five year survival for people diagnosed with melanoma is 92%, rising to 99% if the melanoma is detected before it has spread. If spread is within the region of the primary melanoma, the five year survival is 65%, dropping to 15% if the disease is widespread.

(www.cancer.org.au)

Is your tan still looking as good? Did you know Tanning Beds are just as lethal?

If you have any moles that have changed, or notice any symptoms, please go straight to your doctor. It may be too late if you wait.

Please take five minutes of your life to watch this video. It May save your life.

With Love, Hugs, Floppy Hats, Sunglasses and SunScreen,

K

Melanomas.

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January 8th: Finding the Motivation in a dodgy day.

Today has been a day where I have had to search hard to find the meaning of all the kicks.

It started off with waking up feeling ill, which isn’t that uncommon an occurrence anyway.

But my weightloss meeting, while good for Tamika and I as facilitators, was disastrous for me as an individual. I came away feeling like a huge-assed Heffalump.

I came home and slept away my misery until It was time to facilitate the second meeting in Wodonga. I spent the whole time trying to be happy and bubbly but with a head pounding like I had Woody Wood-Pecker in residence it wasn’t easy!

Eating dinner was another disaster – 1/2 a mouthful had me dashing for the loo and I was sick everywhere.

After a call to mum where I just whined, I snuggled in bed with my Berhurt and  my Cat, ready to watch Scrubs.

In enters Tamika, who gets me around there for a coffee.

I was feeling so low about the day as a general that when I smashed my iPhone screen outside her house I honestly didn’t think my day could get any freakin’ worse, and I was almost numb about it. With some help from her hubby Vinny and nifty phone case from Meeka, I (By which I mean Vinny) was able to salvage my phone into usability. THANK YOU VINNY!!!

I spent a good two hours around there, during which we talked and I whinged, and Meeka lifted my spirits up with a good old bitch session, which always seems to help! (Yes, I know, I am a woman; I have DNA which allows the bitchiness!)

Meeka pointed out that my weight at this point is only a number, and it will drop. It feels as though she has made herself my personal motivator, and for that I am grateful; She also said That everything that had happened today did not qualify for it to be an “FML” day, because as I have previously blogged, there are many worse off than me and to follow my own preachings.

Having someone there to listen to me, and understand why I was so devastated really helped. She really was great for picking me up out of my doldrums, and, lets face it, her perfect cuppa really did help!

It’s funny, isn’t it, how just sitting down and having a cuppa with your bestie can help alter your outlook. Do you have friends who do this for you? It is days like today where I appreciate those who have time for that cuppa with me, and who show me what I can achieve when I put my mind to it.

I am working really hard at finding the motivation from todays weigh in, where I weighed in at a humungous 127 KG.
The group Tamika and I have developed is all about motivation – I cannot facilitate a group about motivation when I lack it for myself.

I am going to beat “the battle of the bulge”. I am going to get back to where I should be, and where I want to be.

I am not going to go back into my former shell and just comfort eat anything that smells good. I haven’t even had one of my coffee milks today, Momma!

With my KuppyKake by my side, and my future families life in mind, I will do anything.

Hugs and Mushy Stuff,
K xo

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