Physical hardship TMI Warning… Gnosis and being given a new task….

Being able to write again has proved to be a challenge, not only to find the time or physical stamina, but also to find the words.

A week ago I ended up in the ER with severe belly pain and profuse bleeding (soaking 3 1/2 super absorbency tampons in less than an hour) with my B/P a stunning 74/47… That was the first time in a long while that my vision felt gray and fuzzy, like a sweater made of sensations.

They were shocked that I was able to walk from the loading bay to the triage area, and I was promptly whisked away to a room where pain meds and an IV awaited. Once I was being examined, my B/P went up to 130/89, which was confusing for the nurses to figure out why there was such a huge difference. This matter was never resolved or investigated further.

I got the exquisite displeasure of the doctor ordering a speculum examination w/oversize q-tip swabs, and being reassured that my cervix was closed, so it didn’t appear to be anything other than a severely heavy menses.

They tanked me up with a bag of saline, and 3 glasses of water, before shipping me to the Ultrasound techs for my insides to be scanned. This proceeded with exactly the type of sensations one can expect whilst trying desperately not to pee on the gurney.

After the ladies were finished with their 30+ minutes of “Okay, you will feel pressure” and “Oh, sorry, did that hurt? *does it harder* Oops, the computer didn’t save that, need to do it again…”, I was sent back to my room to await someone to take me to the bathroom to pee in peace, however, as the trooper/problem solver that I am, I shuffled down the 5 feet of space from my doorway to the restroom while the nurse looked on in some form of long distance overseeing to make sure I didn’t pass out and bleed out of my genitals all over the floor.

I managed to make it back to my gurney safely, and huddled under the cotton blanket for warmth, as the entire ER seemed to have had their AC unit settings adjusted from Cool to Hoth. Not long after I settled back into conserving my fluids and strength, the nurse returned with my discharge papers that stated the usual spiel of “Return if….” admonitions. She instructed me to get dressed, and vanished in a cloud of dark colored scrubs and brunette hair once my signature was affixed to the paperwork.

I was able to get dressed, and call for a ride home, where my husband and girls eagerly awaited.

I have felt wiped out since then, and did rough math of how much blood I lost.

Each tampon holds 10 ml

Each pad underneath holds about the same.

10 x 3.5 = 35 ml

10 x 3.5 = 35 ml

This tallies up to losing 70 ml of blood, not counting any overnight bleeding or in-hospital bleeding. This math only reflects the blood I lost right up to my visit, the rest of the week oversaw a more usual menses that extended the time that a tampon or pad lasted to 2-3 hours during the day, and didn’t end until Wed. No wonder I came into the ER in the state I did.

I have felt a big nudge to begin working with my Rune sets again, even locating the 4 missing from my Willow set. This nudge only intensified when I located my 1st set, and feeling the power contained within each symbol. But both feel incomplete, and the nudges pushed me towards creating a new set that includes the Futhorc Runes mentioned on Raven Kaldera’s website Here. This got my inner thoughts forming all sorts of gnosis…

The gnosis was something that dawned on me while talking with my husband during my recovery, after attempting to read a book on Runes by an author who offended my sensibilities by constantly toting the “Loki is teh EBBBILLL God of Chaos and stuffz” crap combined with trying to squish Freya and Frigga together into one deity. Not only trying to claim this, but alleging that the change from Freya to Frigga was an non-glamorous downgrade of some sorts. Yes, this was all within a few sentences of each other no less. Once that came to my attention, the book was irrevocably useless for any studying at all, thus being relegated to the back of the bathroom library.

While trying to explain how offensive this book was, my husband looked me in the eyes and said “I guess you’re just going to have to write your book then.”

I stammered and waved my hands around trying to deny it, trying to say that I’m not ready, or sure of what I am supposed to write. Obviously he is wrong, that can’t be what the Gods and Spirits want me to do.

He just laughed and said “Love, you have broken hammers that have felled Frost Giants. They have asked nicely, They have gently hinted. The time for that is over now.”

So here I am, trying to work out what steps I need to take next. All while feeling as though a huge magnet is pulling me towards a distant goal, with tiny spotlights of knowledge and progress lighting my way.

All I can do is take one step at a time, and do my best to honor the Gods through this endeavor.



About darkbookworm13

I am a proud mom to 3 beautiful girls, and married to the love of my life. I have been a practicing Witch since the summer of 2003, having studied many different paths over the years, ranging from Wicca, Goddess only worship (courtesy of StarHawk), Eclectic Paganism, Kitchen Witchcraft, Norse Paganism, Hearthcraft, Spiritual Luciferianism, and more. I have worked with the Futhark runes, Brian Froud's Faeries Oracle deck, Tarot decks, and I am currently working on a customized divination set based on collected items. I like to work with herbs, and gardening. I crochet and make handicrafts like wood burned items, paintings, drawings, toys, and hand sewn doll clothes for my daughters. The only title I call my spiritual path is Witchcraft, as using magic entwines deeply with the worship of the Gods who call me Their own. My Patron deity is Loki, who has chosen me as His kin.
This entry was posted in Chaos, Illness, Injury, Personal Gnosis, Spirituality and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Physical hardship TMI Warning… Gnosis and being given a new task….

  1. Wow, thanks for sharing your experience. Inspiration comes to us in the strangest ways, more often than not. Perhaps that was your wake up call? Namasté!

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