Patience

"Patience is a virtue", a theme that is drilled into our heads as children... and while we slowly, patiently, learn to overcome the obstacles that stand in our way, we grow. We learn to even love the anticipation, the high that comes when our patience is rewarded. But what happens when the reward doesn't outweigh the wait anymore? How do we maintain that same level of patience?

I face this question on a daily basis in my life. Whether it is in regards to my personal life, work, or just dealing with "Stewie" my ostomy, I sometimes lose the patience I have so instinctively come to rely on. You see, I have been told, time and time again that I have the "patience of a saint", but trust me, I am no saint, and my patience gets thin more easily than many would think.

On the outside, I am really good at putting on a strong face, but inside I am screaming, crying and begging to understand the chaos. Sometimes, my patient, strong exterior makes me a target for people to assume that I will just roll over and take whatever is handed to me, because I am too patient, too kind, too forgiving to do otherwise. Unfortunately, they are more often correct. In my patience, I have a tendency to just look the other way. Many people would see this as a downfall, and honestly, it is. However, in the deepest part of my understanding, I know that the reward will eventually come with goodness and kindness being returned to me.

Now, this doesn't mean that I don't sometimes lose my ever-loving mind sometimes. I do. Trust me, I do and when it happens, it is ugly, it is shameful and it is sad. Just the other day, I was exhausted, I was in pain, I was just downright over it... and I mean EVERYTHING. Stewie and I had had a rough couple days and nights. I really needed to change my bag and I just didn't have it in me. I lost it. Full blown sobbing uncontrollably, foot stomping tantrum ensued... (and this is not a pretty site for a 38 year old woman to display) In that moment, I just wanted to be "normal." I just needed someone to look at me and tell me I was ok, it was ok, and it would continue to be ok. Someone to remind me that I just needed to be patient, take a breath and focus on how to do what needed to be done and move forward. Thankfully I had a friend there who unfortunately gets to see the impatient side of me more so than most but they were there to literally take me by the shoulders, look me in the eyes and tell me to stop and just do what needed to get done. It was a case where someone else's patience for me helped me to find patience for myself. I was able to take care of Stewie, although he was NOT being very cooperative and then I was able to gather myself off the floor, and reinstate the patience I am so well know for.

I guess all I am trying to say is that, we all struggle with how to be patient, and in the words of the wise man, Axl Rose,
"Said, woman, take it slow
And it'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience"

19 years

19 years ago, November 9, 1999, I lost my dad to colon cancer. It was fast, it was unexpected and it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I was 19. I was a sophomore in college and studying music. Dad was the biggest supporter of me singing. It was around 3:30 AM when I got the phone call that I needed to come home because he had been rushed to the hospital. My brother and I rushed home from Roanoke to get there just before he passed away. When the doctors came in to tell us to say our goodbyes, I sang to him. I sang a song he sang to me as a baby. I struggled. My brother joined me and when we finished the machines went dead. Dad was gone.

19 years old, it's 4 months after Dad passed and I am sitting in a doctor's office. I had been having some "issues" for a few years and Mom is tired of me ignoring it. Dad's Gastroenterologist is telling me that I have inherited Dad's bad guts and I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. Ulcerative colitis is an autoimmune disease that falls under the umbrella of Inflammatory Bowel Diseases (not to be confused with Irritable Bowel Syndrome) So basically my body was attacking my colon and there was little I could do to control it and I was too embarrassed to talk about it.

For the first 19 years I had the usual crap that most 19 year olds go through. I struggled with who I was as a person, how to fit in and what I wanted to do with my life. At 19 years old, I became angry. I became confused. I became resentful. Basically I just lost myself. I don't know if it was when Dad died, if it was with my diagnosis, or a combination of the 2 but I have been trying to come back from that anger for the last 19 years.

The week leading up to this year's anniversary, the 19th year, of Dad's passing was really hard for me. I have been on this earth for the same number of years without Dad as I was with him and I had a really hard time wrapping my head around that. In the last 19 years I have struggled to find myself, to identify who I am supposed to be. I have battled my own demons and so far have come out winning. I have learned to accept my diagnosis but it sits as a constant reminder that I am not "well." In 19 years I have graduated college, moved several times, gotten married, gotten divorced, lost my colon, lost more of my intestines and almost lost my life. What I thought was going to be the hardest anniversary for me yet, took a strange turn. I am lucky to have some amazing people in my life and those friends made sure to keep me occupied, still doing things to remind me of Dad, helping me make decisions to take care of myself while others messaged me words of love and support and in the end, it was one of the best anniversaries ever. I felt like I was ready to start a new chapter in my life. Finally I feel able to really start focusing on growth, on repairing relationships with others and more so, repairing my relationship with me.

 I have learned that a lot of things can change in 19 years but also, a lot of things stay the same. Outwardly I am usually pretty put together in my acceptance of my life. I am good at putting on a smile that tells everyone that "everything is great! I'm fine!" but inside, behind the closed doors, in the dark of my room, I still struggle with how to put that brave face forward. I just try and remember once I wake up the next day, to tell myself "today is going to be a good day" and try everything in my power to make that the truth.

Hi! My Name is....Vulnerable

  I always hate having to introduce myself. I never know what I am supposed to say to make me sound "cool" or interesting. Truth is, I have always been on the outskirts of the popular crowd... a little nerdy, a little broadway, a little loud and a little awkward. However, to be completely transparent, I am not really ever going to be one of the cool kids and  I am learning to embrace the weirdness that makes me, me. 

So, Hi! I am Goolie, (a nickname I got from my dad when I was little shortened from "Megoola" although my real name is Megan, go figure) and I have been through some crazy stuff in life. I lost my dad to colon cancer at 19, I have battled my weight since I was a teen, I have been living with ulcerative colitis for 19+ years and I live with an ostomy named "Stewie." Oh! and last year I almost died... This is my journey of how I am learning to finally love who I am at the young age of 38 (HA!) and the stories that have made me who I am today, BECAUSE of all the crazy I have been through. 

My hope is that somewhere in my ramblings, in showing my vulnerabilities, I can show people that there is a silver lining in every dark situation, even if you have to find it while kicking and screaming on the floor. Despite what anyone says, you are the final decider of your fate and in the end, not a whole lot really matters if you can find happiness. 

So thanks for stopping by my little corner of the internet. I hope somewhere in my ups and downs, you find something that helps you find a way to love and accept one of your own "less cool" parts.