writing – joy murray art~stories~life

Unsalted

July 13, 2026July 13, 2026Posted in UncategorizedTagged family, health, hyponatremia, life, low salt, Mental health, rehabilitation, SIADH, writing12 Comments

On June 11, I was taken to the hospital because I could no longer transfer from my wheelchair to the bed, other chairs, or the toilet without falling. I thought I’d fallen four times in 4 days, but my son said it was more like seven times in 3 days. I had just started a new medication for neuropathy and twitching muscles (part of my disability). I’d also just gotten one of those “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” buttons, so each time I fell and pressed it they called emergency services and my son. I also called my son a few times without calling emergency services. He lives a few blocks from me.

I was nauseated, and light headed and was pretty sure the medication was at fault. The last time emergency services came to get me off the floor, they strongly suggested I go to the hospital. I argued, being hard-headed and sure everything would be okay if I stopped taking the meds. When I argued about going to the hospital, my son stepped in and said very firmly that I was going to the hospital. He’s as hard headed as me, and now he’s bigger than me. The next thing I knew I was being loaded into an ambulance.

Things went a bit blurry after that. The next thing I remember was being in an emergency room. Then more blurriness and I was in the Intensive Care Unit. My sodium levels had dropped to 110, and if it had dropped any lower I could have gone into a coma or died. So, thank goodness for hard headed sons.

When your salt gets that low, they can’t just flood your body with salt or it could cause you to go into shock. So they slowly brought my salt up in the ICU, then sent me to the “step down” unit, which is a step lower than ICU, but still required a blood test every 4 hours.

When your sodium gets so low it affects your neurological system, muscular system, and brain activity. I could not transfer or even stand up without assistance. I had to be strapped to a physical therapist to move from the bed to a chair.

*Bored one afternoon, I cleaned out my purse, and found my Gwenn Seemel mask, which matched my mood for the day*

After my salt was close enough to normal, I was transferred to a rehab facility for two weeks where the real physical therapy began. As my salt stabilized, and therapists worked with me for 3 hours a day, I could make safe transfers, use my manual wheelchair, stand up with a grab bar, and most importantly, transfer myself to the toilet.

pxl_20260713_1949063987267118405869877556 — *My first watercolor attempt at hospital*

*Got in and got out — but didn’t get to drive away and escape*

I got home last Monday, July 6, have had a PT assessment, and will have a therapist coming to work with me twice a week for 2 months.

I’ve always been the envy of my over 60 for my ability to still eat as much salt as I like. The reason is I have a tendency for hyponatremia (low salt) because I have SIADH (sigh-add). SIADH (Syndrome of Inappropriate Antidiuretic Hormone Secretion) is a condition where the body releases too much antidiuretic hormone (ADH). This causes the kidneys to retain excess water, which dilutes blood sodium levels.

It’s very rare for a medication to cause such an extreme loss of salt, and my doctor said he’d never heard of it happening before and is researching the drug and recorded reactions to it. Maybe his research will result in a big fat warning label for people with low salt.

Meanwhile, I’ve been very glad to be home, glad to be alive, and glad to start blogging again. When I became conscious of what happened to me, I was figured I was still on the planet to finish up paintings I’ve been planning and postponing for years. And write more, too.

pxl_20260628_2332124824408011672336362447 — *Second watercolor sketch while in rehab*

I had such good support from my friends who visited and brought flowers, food, and encouragement.

I was so out of it, I was unable to comprehend what doctors and nurses were saying to me. A dear friend stayed with me and took notes to send my family and close friends so they would know what was going on. She sent them to me too because my brain was just not retaining information.

I was worried about how much I was forgetting and miscomprehending and unable to communicate, so I told my nurse if it continued another month, I thought I should get a test for early onset dementia. But she said to wait. A month seems like a long time to me. But in healing time it’s quite short. Give myself at least three months. And it’s true, every day I’m feeling just a bit better, a bit more energetic, and a bit smarter.

So, again, I’m going to try to start blogging more often, and painting more and living as fully as possible. I’ll be salty, too.

Thanks to the doctors, the excellent nurses, and everyone who helped me through this strange medical event.

I’m so happy to be home.

img_20260706_1239205205017494955001578 — *Thanks to my friend for watering my plants*

~~~

Thanks for reading my blog. Feel free to share it, if you’d like.

This blog is brought to you by the generosity of people who support me on Patreon , buy my art, and who support me in so many different ways.

If you’d like to make a one time donation, you can do so at paypal

Cards and prints of some of my art is available on Redbubble. Also T-shirts and stickers and other odds and ends. When you click an image, in the lower right hand corner you’ll find a link to all the various products that these are printed on. If you have any trouble finding what you’re looking for, let me know. joyzmailbox@gmail.com

You can subscribe to this blog by email in the link below this post.

If you find a typo, let me know, and I’ll send you a postcard.

Time Flies

April 13, 2026Posted in UncategorizedTagged art, creative block, creativity, life, writing6 Comments

I can’t believe I haven’t posted anything on my blog since Thanksgiving. Winter sped by, and it dragged by at the same time. I started paintings but didn’t finish them. I stopped writing in my journal. I did work in my sketchbook, but am only just now figuring out how I want to proceed with my art and creativity in the future.

Like most people, I get a bit of the winter blues, but these warmer, longer days are stirring up ideas, and that creative warrior spirit. I have been doodling. Gotten more familiar with my watercolors again. I remembered how much I love just drawing and visual journaling.

Over the winter I got a new computer because my old one was no longer going to be supported by Windows. I’ve had a hard time getting used to the new one, getting files transferred, and getting my scans to look clear. I’m also frustrated by way WordPress blog host keeps “improving” their format. We may be getting a divorce soon. I know a lot of people are working on Substack now. I want one that’s easy to format and add pictures to. In the process of doing research for a good fit, I’m using up a lot of my creative energy. But I will get it sorted. If you have any suggestions, let me know.

I’ve taken a break from facebook and instagram for April. I find I spend too much time on them and want to redirect that obsession to this blog, and to committed readers like you who have subscribed to and support my blog.

My goal is to start doing a post at least twice a month, then start posting weekly, even if it’s only my photography or works in progress, things I’d normally just post on facebook. I want to write more stories and turn all the bright shining ideas in my head into not so perfect reality. We’ll see what happens.

I think one thing I’ve learned (actually I’ve learned it many times in my life), is that I work best if I have a daily schedule. I got an artistic block and needed a break. I felt like the well was empty. So much is going on in the world, so much discord and hostility. And the very nature of reality, or what we perceive as reality, is changing because of AI. I felt I needed to pull back from everything, to make sure I participated in the natural world, communicated face to face with real people (who after all are often quite lovely.) Social media cuts down a lot on the isolation that being disabled brings, but so much of it now is trashy and tricky, I think isolation would be preferable at this point.

So this is the month to plunge back in, not so much refreshed, as desperate for my creativity to be released. To not let the bastards grind me down.

So I hope you’re having a delightful spring.

I look forward to seeing what blossoms here.

And here’s a little bit from my visual journal:

Ahhh, Spring!

~~~

Thanks for reading my blog. Feel free to share it, if you’d like.

This blog is brought to you by the generosity of people who support me on Patreon , buy my art, and who support me in so many different ways.

If you’d like to make a one time donation, you can do so at paypal

You can subscribe to this blog by email in the link below this post.

If you find a typo, let me know, and I’ll send you a postcard.

Welcome 2025 – I Regret Nothing

January 1, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged life, poem, poetry, writing4 Comments

Here we are in the future. I hope you take some time today to appreciate all that you did this last year, and your whole life, to make the world a better place or easier for someone else. We get so stuck on improving ourselves and goal setting, we forget to appreciate who we are. When you see the goodness in yourself, you can encourage and grow that part of you, become more of who you are meant to be. Even our mistakes, contradictions, and misdirections are part of who we are, how we grew, what made us stronger and wiser — if we can let go of shame. We all contain gravity and grace, we all contain multitudes.

Last year, around this time of year, I wrote and posted this poem. I feel like it’s still appropriate for me and hopefully for you. Have a well-rounded year — look forward with awareness and do what good you can.

I Regret Nothing

by Joy Murray

I regret nothing.
I regret every day I don't write down what happened.
I remember everything.
Everything runs from my memory as if from a burning building.
I am responsible and well organized.
I loll around in bed wishing for eternal sleep.
I love deeply, a star sparking in every cell.
I close myself off to everyone, every sensation.

I am so afraid.
I am fearless.
I ramble freely through dangerous streets.
I can barely crawl across the room.

My wheelchair is a magic carpet that I steer heavenward.
People are in awe of my strength.
I get suck in bathroom doors, on muddy roads, and in dark corners.

What a waste of resources I am.
I have survived brutal mysteries and carry pain lightly.
I am so weak I can't speak my needs.
Every inch of my being is in perfect harmony with life.

When I lost you, music went mute.
A 24-hour feed screeched out every horror of life so shrilly
I broke into shards.

I am a shattered window letting the breeze in.
I am stained glass waltzing.

I regret nothing.

~~~

Thanks for reading my blog. Feel free to share it, if you’d like.

This blog is brought to you by the generosity of people who support me on Patreon , buy my art, and who support me in so many different ways.

If you’d like to make a one time donation, you can do so at paypal

You can subscribe to this blog by email in the link below this post.

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: