Too Long For Twitter

Definition I Didn’t Know: Mediatrix


My therapist suggested that I Google the term “Mediatrix,” after we had yet again discussed my exhausting and irrepressible compulsion to make sure all the emotional needs of the people I love are being met (A clue for Dear Readers as to one of the reasons I’m in therapy- I’m frakkin’ exhausted and overwhelmed.), easier before the Health Blahs (as I call the litany of diagnoses I’ve collected: Vestibular Migraines, TMJ (I think I cracked my recent crown thanks to jaw clenching, yay!) , RMSF and newly added Fibromyalgia). I tend to have near-complete disregard for what my needs are, both emotionally and physically.

At Therapist T-Pain’s mention of the word, I perked up and proclaimed the title “Mediatrix” as mine with the definition unknown, based on my lifelong love of all media and recent experience in the New Media frontier. Plus, it sounded geekily exotic!

Here’s the actual definition:


[mee-dee-ey-triks] (Note: Pronunciation focuses on the word ‘mediate’, not media as I initially thought.)

noun, plural me·di·a·tri·ces  [-uh-trahy-seez, -ey-tri-seez] Show IPA, me·di·a·trix·es.

a woman who mediates, especially between parties at variance.
Also, me·di·a·tress, me·di·a·trice  [mee-dee-ey-tris] Show IPA.

1425–75; late Middle English  < Late Latin mediātrīx,  feminine of mediātor mediator; see -trix

Usage note
See -ess, -trix. Unabridged
Based on the Random House Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2012.
Cite This Source

I dunno if I think I am a mediatrix, but I guess it’s something to ponder. I have spent a lot of my time playing the damned devil’s advocate, after which my attempts at objective honesty to provide all possible options, usually gets the emotional crap beat out of me at some point in the future. Seems kind of like I have created a compulsion that puts me in the middle of all disagreements, which is pretty dumb for somebody that really just wants to embrace my loved ones, enjoy life and giggle as often as possible.

Nowadays, the medications I take seem to be doing their intended job in sometimes minimizing some side effects, but the full-time fuzzy brain make it harder for me to tell when My Beloveds need an extra little help or lift somehow. Even if I can pick out the shape of their need in my sometimes extremely foggy haze, I am at this point mostly useless to help in ways that Make A Difference, which is actually T-Pain’s goal, although not specifically why I take the medications I do.)

It’s still a particularly difficult with the things going on in loved one’s lives currently, as so many are raw and hurting in some way. Especially, as a bonus to anything the recipient feels, I find it cathartic for myself when I am able to do the little kindnesses. It alleviates my fear that I don’t contribute enough to the world to justify my place in it anymore, and results in feels shame and happiness at the same time. *sigh*

End result, I am taking on less stress as I am meant to, but I miss being there for my friends when they are in need. And then I feel guilty or shamed either way.

I frequently remind myself, now that I have self-banned myself from driving (medication side effects, primarily), that now I officially am The Passenger. The Passenger has input when allowed, but little control. It’s freeing and terrifying, all the same. The new mantra is shorter and reminds me that it’s not a choice, but simply how my life is right now and is a reminder  embrace the inherent freedom and let go of the guilt and shame of not helping others.

Edit – this (June 9) was the second session in 2 days. Now a bi-weekly patient, thanks to my progress! But things have been “exciting” and it’s dredged up some deep dark issues for me.

2nd Edit: I’m now a weekly patient again (June 20). *sigh* It was nice while it lasted, but I am in need of  extra time with all the stuff we have in the air, balancing expectations (ours and others) and maximizing fun time with the kids, while (reminded of need today) making sure I don’t overdo it. HAHAHA, I love that she *still* thinks I can stop myself. Ex: I worked myself so hard the last two weeks getting ready, that I fell asleep early and missed the end of LT’s first night here. Epic Mom Fail.

But tomorrow brings the first official sunburn of the season as we hope the weather lets us head to a local pool. Woohoo!

Chooch Health Our Kids Too Long For Twitter

Mixed Bag of a Day

Day of mixed blessings – House sale has inched forward a bit; I’ve likely had RMSF for over a year; see a rheumatologist; I’m “interesting”.
~posted on Twitter

I just finished a four week course of treatment for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever (RMSF). Have I mentioned that? My future housemate and eternal soul sista Jen told me if I were a dog, she would run a tick panel on me. Since I’m not a dog, I asked my doctor to run it and she obliged. Because I have found 2 ticks within the last 2 1/2 years, she went ahead and started me on a four week course of doxycyclene. The test confirmed that I have RMSF and I went back today for a follow-up, since I have had no relief from the joint pain that started in the past few months.

The doctor said that my titer test indicated that I most likely had acquired RMSF over a year ago. She has referred me to a rheumatologist because she believes the extensive joint pain is due to something else going on in my body. I’m more than a little bummed that the joint pain apparently isn’t going to go away anytime soon.

It was during our conversation that she had to fetch my file from her desk. She said it was there so she could discuss it during a meeting with the other doctors in her practice. She thought they would find it interesting. Great, another doctor finds me interesting…

We also found out that our house sale is moving forward and we will allegedly have a date set for settlement soon. We are so excited about this that I very nearly pooped my pants upon receiving the news. Okay, not really. But I did get dizzy and had to wait for it to pass before I could get back into motion.

And after seeing Mur Lafferty tweet “ I weep for the future. Who is Paul McCartney?”, I proudly shared the post my 15 year old son made on his Facebook page while watching the Grammy’s last night: “the day Paul McCartney dies will be the saddest day of my life.” I love that my son continues to grow as a music geek, just like me. Our other sons are tremendous music fans as well, and all three have pursued musical interests. Both exes (mine and hubby’s) are also heavily into music and I think the shared obsession has impacted them. And I do, with all my heart, hope that the worst thing that ever happens to LT is that a favorite singer passes away.

Jared Axelrod said I’m amazing (buffs nails on shirt), and then I watched Chooch play hopscotch with our housemates’ 2 year old daughter, nicknamed Feral Dancer. At the end of this day, how can I do anything but smile?