Close Call

In mid-July, I came way too close to losing Red. I spent a week sleeping in a hospital chair, watching my husband sleep, listening to machines beep, and praying for various measurements in his blood to go one way or the other.

We got lucky. The doctors say there is an excellent chance that there will be no lasting damage to Red, though if we'd waited just a couple more hours to go to the ER, I'd be posting something much much different right now.

What happened? Well, I won't post the name of the drug, because I don't want to freak anyone out, and I don't want to get sued by the company. But Red took a very common over-the-counter pain killer, and turned out to be the one-person-in-a-million who has those horrible adverse reactions they list in the commercials that most people ignore. His kidneys shut down. His heart nearly stopped. All because his foot hurt and he popped a pill.

I had a lot of time to think while I was sitting in that hospital chair. Though most of it didn't relate directly to DD, in a lot of ways, it related indirectly, so I thought it worth posting here.

The thing about Red is that he's a pretty private guy, and not many people know him very well. If they did, they'd know that no matter what assumptions you make about the guy, you're probably wrong.

For example, Red is physically the kind of spanker-man about whom most women with our particular preferences would dream. He's a big guy, even "larger than life" in some ways, and when he wants me to go somewhere (such as the bedroom for a nap, a spanking, or something else), he has no trouble getting me there. He's both an immovable object and an irresistable force when he wants to be. He seems unstoppable.

Because of his appearance, most people assume he's a meat and potatoes kind of man. But Red doesn't eat red meat. Red doesn't eat fried foods, fatty foods. He has a rather conservative diet.

Because of his incredible knowledge (Red is at the top of his field and has been becoming rather well known in his area of work), people assume that he knows everything. And sometimes I think so too. They'd never guess that Red has an incredible weakness when it comes to figurative speech. It quite frequently happens that Red needs to come to me after speaking to a client and ask me what a certain commonly-used metaphor means.

People also assume that Red is, just as he calls himself, "insensitive and uncaring." This may be true about some things, but Red has revealed himself to me over the years to be one of the most sensitive people I've ever met. The same man who warned me that we would not go through extreme and costly measures to save an animal's life when we adopted our first dog is now going through hell and high water to keep the poor, elderly, senile creature alive.

I tell you all of this to try to give you an idea of what it was like for me to watch this powerful man made helpless, and dependent upon machines and medicines to save his life. It is easy, and often pleasurable for me, to feel helpless and dependant on him, because he is so much larger and stronger than I am. I feel vulnerable around him. He is older and more experienced than I am. I rely on him quite a bit. I let myself believe that he's every bit as unstoppable as he seems.

But suddenly I found myself being the much stronger of the two. A little pill that has little to no effect on me, damn near killed him.

The fact is that despite all appearances, in the end Red is every bit as vulnerable as I am. He is my foundation because he chooses to be, and I can believe him to be unstoppable because he lets me. And I simply cannot take that for granted.

I am a very lucky woman to have Red with me. We're both lucky that his doctors are so capable and that the treatments have been so successful. Red has been getting stronger every day, and has even felt strong enough to threaten me with spankings for various minor misdeeds. And while I, of course, argue that I should not be spanked, I can help but feel so very grateful that he's strong enough to make the threat, and getting strong enough to follow through.

Coming Around

Shortly after my last post in March, Red and I entered marriage counseling. Though we're not talking about DD with our therapist, it is pretty clear to me that some aspects of DD have strengthened our relationship. For example, our therapist is extremely impressed with our communication skills. In our first couple of sessions, after Red would tell her something, she'd look at me and ask, "did you know about this? Have you talked about this before?" It only took a couple of sessions for her to figure out that there is nothing that Red and I haven't told each other. There have been no shocking revelations between us in therapy. I think we're a challenge for her... she mentioned to me that most couples use therapy to learn how to communicate, but since Red and I clearly already know how to communicate, we're way ahead of the game.

On the other hand, our DD is still on hold. I asked Red a couple of weeks ago if we were returning to it. He said he wanted to "earn it back." So we're both earning it back.

In the meantime, I've been working like crazy on figuring myself out. Red and I have our challenges... some pretty big ones, since we've both had rough pasts. I wish I could go into more detail, since I'm sure some of our experiences may help others, but since they aren't really related to spanking or DD, and because I respect Red's privacy, I can't go into them. Anyhow, added to our emotional challenges are our physical challenges... Red has been ill for 2 and 1/2 years now. I was recently diagnosed hypothyroid (which appears to have been causing much of my depression for years), as well as dysautonomia. My treatment involves medication that alters my hormonal balance, which means that I am relearning what makes me tick on a hormonal level. PMS is a bit more severe for me now, but also a bit more predictable, so it is all a matter of learning how to deal with it.

I'm also trying to get my spanking mojo back. I know it is around here somewhere. I think when Red and I were starting to have some of our most serious conflicts, I pushed that part of myself aside in order to cope. I simply have not been able to take it back on yet. I feared for a while that I'd somehow inadvertently "cured" my spanko-hood. But after a serious case of the spankin' hornies came around a week or so ago, I have faith that it will return in time.

Anyhow, I just wanted to let anyone who might still read my blog know that Red and I are coming around. We're piecing things back together and will hopefully be in a position to start implementing DD again soon.

It's Over

In a screaming match today, Red and I ended our discipline arrangement. Or rather, perhaps, we acknowledged that it was already over. I'm not sure the difference matters, if there is one.

I don't know what this means for me, for Red, or for this blog. I'm kind of a mess right now and I'm trying not to think too much about anything. It's just easier not to think if I don't have to.

To DD, or Not To DD

I should start this by admitting that there are numerous holes in my logic, and I'm feeling incredibly frustrated and therefore I'm somewhat irrational. I know that. Having gotten that out of the way, here is what is going on.

It has been a very rotten health month for both Red and me. Red still has his illness, and I've been diagnosed not only with hypothyroidism, but also neurocardiogenic syncope. That's a fancy medical term for "faints frequently." I had a tilt table test about a week ago which I "failed" spectacularly. Not only did I pass out remarkably fast, but I had almost no warning signs (such as nausea, or something like that).

I've been fainting fairly regularly. I figure it is because of stress. The doctor gave me medicine to help stop the fainting, but the side effects were even worse than the fainting, so I had to stop taking it. In the mean time, I'm not supposed to be driving. The doctor said nothing about not doing other things, but Red is with me regularly, so I haven't been allowed to do much.

I am absolutely crawling out of my skin. The weather is finally getting nicer, and I am absolutely DYING to pull down my Christmas lights, but Red would pop a vessel if he caught me on a ladder. I've been trying to get smaller things done around the house, but I've fallen over several times from dizziness. It seems that this past week the only thing I've been able to do is sit on the sofa and watch television.

Red has been doing his best to deal with his illness and has been working his sick butt off to please his clients who are all clammoring for his help. I suppose we are fortunate that his business is increasing as so many others are experiencing a decrease in business. We're struggliing with bills, particularly medical bills, so we can't afford to turn away the work. But I'm having a really difficult time with the lack of attention. His energy goes either to dealing with his illness or dealing with his work. It seems to me that he only finds time enough for me when he is telling me not to do something.

There has been no spanking. There has been very little intimacy. I feel absolutely useless to my poor husband and I'm going NUTS because I can't seem to do anything to help. But I know that if I exert myself much I'm likely to faint or at least lose my balance and fall over.

The thing is, as much as I know Red is right in telling me not to do this or that, I really REALLY don't want to listen to him. And if DD in our marriage is only going to mean that he gets to boss me around and I have to listen to him without getting any of my emotional needs met, then I really want no part of it. I definitely do not want a divorce, so please don't think that is where I'm going with what I'm about to say... It's just that I've been thinking a lot lately about how much easier it was when I was single. I got to do my own thing, make all my own decisions, and somehow I managed to survive just fine. Why is it now that I'm married and have a partner to "support" me that I feel so damn unstable?

I've Got Some 'Splaining To Do

I have not meant to go so long between posts. I am still alive, and I appreciate everyone who has been checking in with me from time to time. I regret that I don't have sexier things to post about, but I figure I ought to post an update so you'll all understand what has been going on with me.

Regarding my previous post regarding bipolar disorder - there is a good chance that the diagnosis is wrong. The psychiatrist who I saw has turned out to be spectacularly unprofessional, to the point that Red and I are having to file a complaint against him with the medical licensing board. I'd go into further detail, but it is really an appalling situation and it really isn't the purpose of this blog to provide a platform for me to vent about incompetent doctors.

Red and I have been in a kind of holding pattern. He is still ill, and lately I have been having some alarming symptoms of illness and have been undergoing a number of tests myself. I am ok - it is unlikely that what is going on is life-threatening, but there is a serious possibility that my issues with depression have been caused by hormonal imbalances that are now causing some cardiac symptoms as well. I wish I could explain more, and hope to soon, but right now I simply don't know enough. I'm supposed to see my primary care physician in the coming week to talk about some results of the tests that I've recently undergone.

Do Red and I still have a discipline relationship? I suppose so, but currently all we can manage are the occasional swat delivered in passing. Our focus has simply shifted to survival issues.

Where does that leave this blog? I never intended for it stagnate the way I've allowed it to in the recent past. My desire to reach out has been hampered (with respects to this blog) by my desire to not allow the scope of this blog to shift too drastically away from my discipline relationship, the reality that right now Red and I have been unable to actually practice discipline within our relationship, and my need to maintain a reasonable degree of anonymity on this blog. In other words, there hasn't been much spanking to talk about around here lately, and I don't want to bore you all with the mundane and all-too-specific and personal details of our RL situation.

That's all the news that is fit to print for now. Again, thank you to those who have expressed concern. I fully intend to continue this blog, and I hope that my readers will continue to check in on me from time to time.

Happy New Year!

I hope that the New Year is finding you all well. 2008 has been an interesting and difficult year for Red and I. His illness has had him in constant pain, and my illness has had me completely confused about myself. But that is not really what I want to focus on right now.

New Year's is a bittersweet time for me. There is all the joy and freshness of a New Year starting and the relief of putting a difficult year behind me. But there are also memories of New Years past. One in particular. I lost my stepfather on New Year's day several years ago. He actually died on January 2nd, but had an aortic dissection on the evening of the 1st. My mother rushed him to the local hospital where we had to wait for a team of heart surgeons to be assembled. Staffing was low because of the holiday, but we were told that because of the specialists needed, we would have had to wait for them all to come together anyway.

He survived the surgery, but because he'd died on the table a couple of times and had to be revived, his brain swelled and there was nothing more that we could do.

Every New Year's day since, my memories of that time come back just like it happened yesterday. But the thing is, his death was not as sad as it could have been. His death was what caused his family to learn of a dangerous genetic illness that several of them have. His brother was saved the same month after he learned that his own aorta was at the crisis point. One of the doctor's told him that he could have died the same week as his brother. His sister, who was pregnant at the time, also learned that her aorta was in trouble, and this knowledge not only saved her, but enabled her to safely deliver her beautiful daughter.

If my stepfather hadn't died, his brother might have left his two small children fatherless, and his sister might have died in childbirth.

I guess I tell this story not only to remember him on this anniversary, but also to show that endings, even painful tragic ones, are still new beginnings. Sometimes in the midst of pain that is difficult to see.

I hope that all of your new beginnings bring happiness and health to you this new year. My best to you all.

Diagnoses

The past couple of weeks have been overwhelming, but I suppose positive in a way. Red and I have both been diagnosed. His diagnosis has been long-anticipated, as he's been ill for nearly two years now. Mine was quite unexpected. Both are life-long.

Red has been diagnosed with IBS. It took quite a while for our doctors to finally come to that conclusion, one, because IBS is a diagnosis reached through exclusion of all other possibilities, and two, because Red's IBS is so severe that the doctors had a hard time believing that it actually was IBS. I've of course heard of IBS before, and have known a few people who have it, but I've never known that it could be so debilitating. We've spent many an evening over the past few years in the emergency room, and have had many frightening moments when we feared that the symptoms he was having could actually kill him. This illness doesn't just make our sex/spanking life extremely difficult, it makes just living and functioning day-to-day difficult.

As for me, I've been diagnosed as bipolar. I can't say that I'm entirely surprised, as I've been in therapy on and off since I was about twelve-years-old. My psychiatrists have all kind of touched on the idea that I might be bipolar, but for whatever reason have all rejected it. However, no one has ever come to a diagnosis either. I spoke to a psychologist on Thursday after having a meltdown that morning. Red and I decided that I had to see someone immediately, and found someone to fit me in. She, after reviewing the forms I filled out and speaking to me for about an hour, told me that she thinks that I have the "mild" form of bipolar (meaning that I don't have psychotic breaks, just dramatic mood swings). I see the psychiatrist this afternoon to find out what kind of medication he wants to put me on.

I've kind of been feeling in limbo for the past few days. At first, it seemed like a relief to have a diagnosis, a reason for why I feel the way that I do. But then it sunk in that this is a life-long condition, and a thing to be dealt with. I wonder if I'll ever feel normal again. I am hoping that whatever treatment the doctor chooses will help me to be able to be the person who I perceive myself to be underneath all of my irrationalities and idiosyncrasies. On the other hand, I hate the idea that my ability to cope with and interact with the world around me will depend on a pill.

I also hope that I'll have some more fun stuff to post about soon. It's been nothing but gloom at our house lately. Maybe I'll go wake Red up with a shot in the ear from my squirt gun. (Just kidding!)