Visiting my Fam

Over the past two weeks I got to visit my dad and step ma, Karen who live about 2 1/2 hrs away. It was very cool to take a road trip like we used to when I was a teenager. We talked the whole time and got to know each other again. Karen and I had met when I was a moron of a teenager, maybe 12…and I was an old twelve so I was a pain in the ass. She tried and I just was horrible as could be. Pride is something I cannot swallow….it goes down hard and I stopped trying because it came off as fake. I will say this time I enjoyed visiting with Karen and I found things out about her that I’d never taken the time to even ask. One thing I have never told her but I always respected her for was the way she loves my dad. And, like me…he was no picnic. But she hung in there and I’m glad she did.

Dad was very, horribly disappointed in me for becoming a drug addict so I avoided him like the plague. Just looking at him and he’d have known, so I stayed away. Now we have this honesty policy going and it’s very freeing. He stayed 2 extra days with me (he wanted to go home so bad he’d been in town a week already) but he went to court with me…on a day I could have been taken in custody. That was a big deal to me. I will tell you, if you are estranged from a parent or parents – let it go. Say you’re sorry, forgive. Life is so much better on this side of it.

I stayed a few days and nights at Dad’s then I came home to Leavenworth and went straight to KCK to spend time with mom. Gram June has been in an assisted living facility a couple weeks, it was weird her not being there but mom and I had a fun time. The coma, antibiotics and all had really destroyed my hair so mom did a highlighting on it and I made an appointment to get it cut (today). The angel that cut my hair totally said ‘hold on you don’t have to cut it ALL off and start over!’ I really thought I did. Go see this woman, she is fantabulous!

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Call for Assistance

So I am working hard to not retreat into what I’ve called my ‘Dark Place’ – that is not so much a place but an attitude that I get stuck in when I start feeling sorry for myself. I want to run around with my dogs and the grandkids but the heart thing just wears me down.

My Family being there for me was both a surprise and a total relief and they are behind me all the way. I want so much to see my artwork be successful but art supplies are not cheap and neither are the Jane Davenport workshops I want to enroll in. So, I’m asking for help. I started both a PayPal Money Pool (fundraiser) and a Facebook fundraiser. Within a few moments my first donation came from James who says that if onky 100 people could spare $20…i could hit my goa lThank you in advance and thanks for reading!

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Sorry, But It Should Shock You

So, yes…that’s really my chest when they took the bandages off for the first time after my valve replacement. It should make you cringe, it makes me cringe and I’m the one who went thru it. If all the other reasons fail to snap you out of the fog that drugs lets you live in, this one photo should at least make you stop and think. Because it’s not just a thing that happened and then I needed surgery. I’m not, never have been over weight or out of shape. I don’t drink and I don’t eat 3 greasy burgers a day. I actually eat healthy if that doesn’t hit you as ironic.

I’ll let THIS happen to me from using drugs but, by golly, I’ll watch my diet and have perfect cholesterol ! Let’s look at it from another direction. If the possibility of open heart surgery (and a myriad of other illnesses that love to land inside drug addict bodies) doesn’t scare you a little then the legal crap should. I have had one drug related conviction ten years ago and it’s still to this day keeping me in debt to the State of Kansas and able to toss me in jail on occasion – and possibly prison. The people I associated with were people who started the way I did, with a doctor. We (most of us) did not get up one morning in our normal lives and say ‘hey, after work I think I’m gonna go hit the streets and fins me some opiates and get high’.

As I explained a little in a previous post, most of us had an injury or a surgery around the time that Oxycontin hit the market and it’s so addictive for so many reasons, that after only a week – ten days on it, you are in full ‘omg I am in HELL’ withdraw if you try to stop taking it. But, honestly, if the doctor had said ‘no more, that’s all that’s required after a surgery/injury like yours.’ myself (and many others) would have spent a few sweaty, sleepless, vomiting nights and would have been finished. Most likely if another issue arose where you would need pain medicine, the majority of us would have said just give me something weaker, not that Oxy crap because DAMN, it made me so sick when I ran out of it. Instead, in my case and many, many others I know, it was actually difficult to get out of the dr. office back then without that script in your hand. As strong as those things are, the drawback is that your body becomes tolerant to them very fast. You need more and more to achieve the same pain relief. As for the other reasons that it is addictive one need look no further than history books.

So, no I don’t blame my doctor or any other totally, but I believe they are culpable and they know it. Now, it’s the patients who are left to pick up the pieces of some very shattered lives – if they are still breathing.

All for now, Missy

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Jane Davenport Free Making Faces Workshop

My little attempt at making her faces book. I’m going to fill it with drawings and some random art journaling rather than faces this time. I am definitely ordering more workshops and some of her little face templates to practice doing the shading, contouring and make up, etc. She is def. the master, her art makes me green with envy. Anyway, here is the basic how to….and link to where you can get into this workshop (for free!)

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Insult to Injury

Well, I’ve been going through a lot of pain. For a week or so after surgery I felt great. I woke up one morning and the pain in my chest was like a train trying to drive straight thru it. I ended up in KU for an additional three days was diagnosed with Pericarditis, fluid and inflammation around the sac surrounding my heart. I was put on some medication, specifically Prednisone (steriods). I can’t help but tell you that depression sets in fairly fast after you pin all of your hopes that this open heart surgery will do the trick. I do have a lot going for me though. I have accountability to a lot of people who keep me on my toes. My husband knows all my signs and he watches close. My dad and I talk every single morning, sometimes it’s no more than 5 minutes and ‘how’s the weather?” but I know its really him letting me know…’look here little girl, i’m watching’.

A few years ago I would have been so pissed and wanted to be left alone, now I look forward to it. My mom can sense it if I’m jacking up from 45 minutes away where she lives in the city. I don’t know how she does it, but she knows. I am going thru some legal crap that stems from my first felony case back in 2011. Maybe I mentioned this before but I have to register as a drug offender every 3 mos (for 15 years). Well when I was in the coma, obviously I couldn’t register and my family was a bit busy and so they issued a warrant for me. After I got recovering from the coma and the learning to walk again, i turned myself in and went to jail, eventually got bonded out and I have to pee each week to make sure I’m drug free (I’ve done this for 7 1/2 months and have something like 30 clean u.a.’s) Still, I could go to prison for 4 years or so. My sentencing is next week…we will see what happens. I tell you I can walk the line better than Johhny Cash.

So, I have an echo coming up to check the fluid around my heart and hopefully the meds have made it go away by then. I don’t want another invasive procedure. Oddly enough, my dad has pericarditis and congestive heart failure (it hit him the same year mine did and a few mos apart) Except I had endocarditis also. Theres several hereditary things my team is looking in to and his drs are going to get with my team and see what the possibilities are.

So, my blog is about my heart stuff and my love for creating art. Of course, the medical bills…don’t get me started. Anyway, I discovered that PayPal has a fund raising service that is called money pool There are classes I want to take from Jane Davenport, I need supplies to do the classes and I guess they aren’t too expensive for what you get out of them but I can’t afford them. So, I’m swallowing my pride and I started a money pool. I would like to have quality art pieces (not just painting and such but I want to have my own home made journals, etc.) My goal is to open an ETSY shop and see where it takes me. Any amount at all would help and if you can’t help cash wise ( understand that) then please forward my story and link to everyone and maybe they will be able to help. Even good quality art supplies that someone isn’t using…i’ll take them!

Here is the link to my PayPal Money Pool:

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And another clean u.a.

Weekly I go to the justice center and take a u.a. in front of this person, who stares intently at me and the mirror placed directly behind the toilet. To make sure I’m not bringing in I don’t what…a balloon of someone else’s pee. It’s all very un nerving. I’ll just say that this would be roughly my 25 th clean u.a. and it still visibly pisses this person off that I’m not being carted off to jail.

Even tho I’ve been through my share of legal trouble I still have tremendous respect for the police and especially the sheriff deputies around here,but there are some that do jobs like pee tests…that enjoy their job far too much. Jail does NOTHING for a drug addict. You can’t even get a Tylenol. You lie there and u can’t eat or drink,they don’t give a shit.

Addicts need medical detox. Not to be thrown in a freezing cold cell and left to withdraw alone . By the way, withdraw can kill people.

Anyway I know people say ‘ they get what they deserve’ but when u reach a certain point in addiction, you may as well tell a diabetic.. hey,just stop with that insulin crap. Man up.

Addiction is a disease and it’s complicated. Telling someone ” just stop” just baffles me.

That’s all for now.


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These zentangles can be anything you can dream up, make a mistake and easily fill it in to make it look like you meant to do it.  They are very relaxing.
Fun Zentangle-ish that I do for relaxing

So, my first post. How exciting! I want to let you know a little about myself and what I hope this blog will be and become. I’m not going to spend a lot of time on the morbid right now but it has to be brought up for you to understand who your blogger is.

Two years ago I was a raging drug addict. It began with two surgeries in quick succession right around the time that the medical community introduced the ‘wonder drug’ Oxycontin. No one explained that it was really for people in terrible, end of life pain. If they got addicted (and they would) it really didn’t matter, they were dying anyway. It quickly started being prescribed for sprained ankles, unexplained back pain, any discomfort “here, we got something for that”. Doctors must have been given buckets of money to push this stuff because if you had insurance, it was near impossible to get out of a doctor visit without a script for it.

I became addicted immediately. I have an addictive personality and I have low self esteem – a powder keg for addiction when you throw Oxy at me. The pain stopped, but it also made me feel better mentally. For now, let’s make a long story short…when young patients began overdosing and dying the medical people shit their pants and then started to tell the docs to cut people off. The consequences were disastrous. When, in terrible withdraw, no doctor would help anymore, some went to methadone clinics (I did)…but they are few and far between (mine was 45 min away) and in order to be ‘dosed’ every day, you had to show up and drink it in front of a nurse. This went on until they decided you could move up to taking home a Saturday and Sunday dose. It took months and many people could not get there every day (and pay $10 per dose) especially if they had to pay someone to drive them 45 min one way each day.

$10 may not seem like much but by the time you need a methadone clinic, you are pretty much penniless, friendless and forget family help. So the easier thing to do and what most of us did was to start buying the pills (which we were shooting up by then because out tolerance was so great that we got nothing from swallowing). The people selling those were making around $80 per pill. These people were not crazy drug street people, they were older women with real diseases, veterans who got them free but they decided the money was too good to pass up and they’d take tylenol and roll around in their drug money instead.

When practically no one could get a script and pills became too hard to find, heroin poked it’s head out from under a rock and said ‘hey guys…i’m the same thing and i’m cheaper. You can find me all day long – all night long. Easy. Come gimmie a try’

Jumping ahead but I promise I will go into more details in later posts (it’s very hard for me to even write about this) in 2017 I was found on my bathroom floor, basically dead.

I woke up 32 days later in a hospital not able to move due to muscle atrophy and couldn’t speak because of the tracheotomy tube coming out of my neck. In my case, I was lucky because my family had been there every day and were there to love me when I woke up. I found out that I had totally destroyed the tricuspid valve in my heart and would need open heart surgery if I were to live. After finally getting insurance in January this year I began the tests and appointments needed to get ready for that surgery. On April 15th I had open heart surgery and God willing, I woke up to see my husband and my dad with tears in their eyes. It had went beautifully.

That’s all I can manage right now. My family and my love of art and reading, things I had forgotten how important to me they were have kept me clean and kept me going.

So this blog is for a kind of purging this dark stuff that is still stuck inside me and to have a reason to keep drawing and painting, showing others what I do and hopefully help someone else get excited about art, or remember something that they once loved and that it’s worth sticking around for. Lastly, the impact on my family…I thought no one cared, they were so distant and pissed at me I just let it go. Now, I see that I was breaking their hearts and I will never do that again.

So…here’s a few things I’m working on now and much happier of a subject than what I’ve just written.

More later, Missy