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Saturday, February 25, 2012

Doctors, Staff. Patients & Patience

(Note to readers: Not posting as much because I have some trouble putting my writing together lately. I have to write things out longhand before typing them. The Sarcoidosis makes it hard to put the thoughts and words together spontaneously - though, surprisingly enough, I can still type pretty well. The writing and proofing on paper has got to be good for keeping my abilities up. I hope I can get it finished and posted soon.)

Anyone who knows me has heard me speak about my doctor. I know that there are many, many excellent physicians, but my doctor is the best one for me. I truly believe that God put me in his care when I fell sick with the Sarc. For one thing, I have always hated having to see a doctor and  had never been hospitalized before. I was terrified at the idea of being that ill, and everything was very confusing to me at the time. My doctor is "new" enough that he is still passionate about his calling and tireless in the pursuit of it. On top of that, he is just a good and decent person.

Having said that, I have to admit that I am probably the worst kind of patient! I'm scatter-brained (somewhat by nature and somewhat by Sarc) and can be difficult. I don't always readily follow the doctor's orders and I am sometimes resistant to common sense.

Still, my doctor is the soul of patience. I think maybe one reason God put me in his care was to build up his patience for patients (not trying hard to sound cute!) and show him the worst right off the bat.

I have gone in for appointments in various stages of lucidity, fear, hysteria, depression, optimism... You name it, I've felt and shown it. And, through it all, my doc has been steady, hopeful, truthful and uplifting. He stays honest with me - not sugar-coating anything, but he doesn't ever make me feel like I'm  facing something I can't handle. Matter of fact, I could swear that he oftentimes has more confidence in me than I have in myself.

Most doctors (at least the few I'd previously seen) feel only responsible for the specific physical health issues of their patient. Like if you go to a doctor because you have migraines, they work to treat the headaches - ease them and find ways to maybe end them. They don't have to give a damn about whether or not you are depressed because you have the headaches, or whether your headaches make your life hell in general. They don't have to, but some do. My doctor does give a damn. I guess that about sums up my situation.

I think that if I were my doctor, I'd probably be ready to go into therapy by now. Probably I'd have to pray for strength, meditate or do some calming, stomach acid-cooling pill-popping just before an appointment. (I take that back. I would not be my doctor. Period.)

Actually, I have two doctors. The other one is a specialist. He's excellent and has been wonderful to me during my treatment. He's a little more remote. I know that he's had his "me." Somewhere, at some point, he had the patient like me who just broke him right in. I'm sure that's why doctors put up those cool exterior defenses - to keep from being worn down by so much caring. It's great to care, but I bet when you've got a bunch of patients to deal with, there's only so much of yourself to give.

So. I am thoroughly grateful to be my doc's patient at this time in his profession. Or maybe (and I really believe this might be the case), maybe my doctor is just in the right profession for his personality, character and depth of compassion. I think he may be one of the rare ones. One of those who won't "burn out" because his well of sincerity is deep enough to span his lifetime.

Oh, and I can't talk about my doctor without talking about some of the nurses I have been under care of. Talk about having to be a special kind of person! I could never be a nurse because all my feelings show so clearly. Apparently nurses have additional skills that concern facial muscles. During just that one stay in the hospital, I saw what these men and women really go through. I thought I was a unique pain in the ass. Noooo... I saw nurses having to deal with patients who went out of their way to be human headaches.

One of my hospital roommates had a knack for waiting until the nurses were at their busiest before she became a quality assurance tester for the Call button. She'd announce to me what her request was going to be just before she buzzed. "I'm going to need a snack because that meal was just flimsy." (Our meals were not the least bit "flimsy.)  Or, "I think they're going to have to give me a sleeping pill. I feel like I'll be up all night." (She was up all night because she watched TV and yakked on her cellphone.) People I know and love are fair game, but I hate being rude to strangers, so I'd just vaguely acknowledge this woman and then go back into my stupor of boredom. She'd lean on that buzzer until I just knew everyone at the Nurses' Station was visualizing a strangulation, Hell, if I'd been lucid enough, I'd've done it for them and claimed emotional duress or something. Did those nurses grit their teeth or roll their eyes or, I don't know, come in and slap the tastebuds off this woman's tongue? Nope. They came in just as if her every need was their only duty. Wow. Just a beautiful bunch of folks they were. (And me with my crazy ass, I couldn't remember not a specific name when I was surveyed later! That has bothered me a lot ever since. The best I could do was indicate the dates I was in their care.)

So, if you are ever sick enough to need a doctor or a hospital and nurses, be thankful for the good ones. Be nice to nurses. It takes special people to do such a disgusting and stressful job with a smile and kind word.


Peace
--Free

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

A Lovely Day

Summer is coming.

I can't wait to sit in the sunshine and just... be.

Maybe ride in a car with my hand out the window.

Or find a pretty spot outside and dance a little.

Have some wine.

Smile and think of pleasant memories.

Be thankful for family and friends.

Thank God for His bringing me through some things.

Smell the air, feel the breeze, glow in the sun.

I am for sure going to play this song and dance a little, smile a lot and be thankful...

Peace
--Free

(P.S.: And, yeah, I will be thinking of you & you know who you are...)

Futuristic Architecture?

Was over on G+ where someone posted this. Fascinating to think about, but one of my G+ pals and I were wondering exactly how living in one of these buildings would work. I commented to him that I'd rather be the neighbor that could just observe it. His question: "How would you enter the building?" I wonder that myself because, as I told him, I have trouble with revolving doors. (That's actually not a joke. I am the woman who reacts to revolving doors like someone trying to jump in a a fast game of jump rope.)

Still, this is quite a strange idea...

The more I look at this, the more questions I have, like: Who are going to clean the windows? SMH... This looks like something the Antichrist would live in! LOL

Peace
--Free

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Writer's Note (or) Beautiful People

I haven't written anything (creatively) in several months - not since before my diagnosis. The other day, I began to feel something stir. Don't know what it will lead to, but I have a plot in mind and a few words in my head:


Beautiful people should never fall in love


Except with us


Those so longed for should be frozen in time


Or not exist at all


Because they break longing hearts


They get into the minds and dreams of other us


Beautiful, longed-for people


They make us want them and all we can not be


We are so


Beautifully done in


By the beautiful


Beautiful people

... We will see what I can do with this. Hope my brain cooperates.

Peace
--Free

Sunday, February 12, 2012

R.I.P Whitney Houston

I started getting texts and social network notices the minute people heard that the singer Whitney Houston had died. My first thought was one of the sadness, then I hoped that her daughter, her mother, all her loved ones were not drowning in grief alone.

Of course, vulture that I can be, I checked out the news sites and gossips mags to get the latest tidbits of "information." How did she die? Where? Why? Who was with her?

As if it's any of my business. As if there is anything I can do to comfort her family or aid them in any way other than by being one of the many, many voyeurs of her musical ability and celebrity life. Not that the family might not appreciate the public displays of affection and mourning of her fans. I am sure they will, but there are levels of intimacy in these things that belong not with fans or this person's "public."

This poor woman was a product (largely) of her natural talent and a victim (mostly) of her celebrity. We fans are really strangers, knowing about her only what was exposed. We don't have a vested emotional right to her life other than what we have to every other human being in the world. We don't lose anything familial or "ours" by the loss of her. We don't have, really, any more right to "mourn" her than we do to mourn any of the many names in the Obituary page of any newspaper. Her celebrity makes us feel we do, but we don't.  We can miss her voice, her talents, her contribution to an art, but, really, that's about it. Her family, her true personal friends - the assorted loved ones - they are the only one with a right to truly mourn. All the rest of us will move on with our lives, not being spiritually altered by her death. Possibly the mourning we do for celebrities is so much more about us than them.

This celebrity culture we live in has diseased us all a bit. We can't just let someone be talented without having to brand them and elevate them to some surreal being. If we didn't "celebritize" people, we couldn't claim some right to them. We couldn't justify our intrusion into their lives. Without celebrities, we might have to learn to just enjoy talent rather than be entertained by the talented.

So, I apologize for my bad manners. I offer condolences to the family as I would want offered by any stranger to mine. I apologize in advance for the ridiculous curiosity that I am going to be exhibiting throughout the circus the world is going to make of this situation.

We are all of us going to be dead. Some of us will be lucky enough not to have been put on pedestals of sand.

Peace
--Free



Monday, February 06, 2012

Love & Hate. Chris Rocked It

Now that I am not in a relationship, I find it easier to laugh at things like Chris Rock's take on being in love. Maybe this wouldn't be funny if I hadn't been so deep in love, but...



Yeah, it's rude and nasty, but that is some funny (and mostly true) stuff, so shut up cos I know you're laughing.

Peace
--Free


Friday, February 03, 2012

What Did Being Good Ever Get You?

There are a lot of things I don't understand about people, but the top 5 have to include:

- Why do some people have to be the Rice Krispy Treats lady... Remember the old commercial where the mom is making the very simple treat, but she throws flour all on her face and makes a mess of the kitchen so that her family thinks she slaved at it? There are people who, if they do anything for someone, they have to make themselves into a martyr. Always having to just mention or make a little joke of what a strain their good deeds are. (I have noticed that these are the same people who never think of what was done for them. Maybe because their patrons never bring it up.)

- Why do some people have to pray for something and wish for something and crave something, then when they get it, all they can do is talk about the negatives? It's like wishing to own a Ferrari then always making a big deal of the price of gas.

- Why do some people have such sharp eyesight and sensitivity to their every pet peeve, but never see that they tap dance on other folk's nerves every freaking moment of time??? (Once, again, maybe that's because they squeak about their crap all the time and others don't.)

- Why is that the most annoying, frustrating, irritating people in the world are the most easily annoyed, frustrated and irritated? It's as though they wear life's glasses facing wrong side out.

- Why is it so hard for people to just be and do the best they can - just because it is the right thing?

***
Okay, yes, I can be all of the above, but I work at not being that way. I try to catch myself  and stop immediately when I drift into, say, Rice Krispy Treat mode... My biggest problem is that, the older I get, the more I notice these things about others. Maybe I never saw it before because I never had to. 

One thing that worries me about myself is that I am becoming very regretful. I am almost starting to regret many of the things I ever sacrificed for others. I am fighting not to regret the things I didn't do for myself so that I could do for others. I am fighting not to regret the money spent, the time spent - the worry and care that I truly felt. But I am really having to fight it hard.

That scares me.

I don't want to regret these things. 

***

I once knew someone who walked away from one huge part of her life to satisfy another part. Her walking-away words (to those of us who stood by watching with our mouths hanging open in shock at her choice) were a question I think about a lot these days: "What did being good ever get you?"

I am trying my damnedest not to have to ask myself that same question. Especially since my time for making different choices is long behind me.

Peace
--Free

Goodbye Jerry

Another of the people I got to know while going with my sister to dialysis was a man named Jerry.

For the first couple of years that I saw them there, Jerry and his wife would come to the center in their big wide-body truck. She would be driving, of course, and it always tickled me a little to see her jump down from the drivers seat. (She is about 5 foot even and weighs around 95 pounds from the look of it!)

Back in those first days of seeing them, Jerry was walking. He would get out of the passenger seat on his own. The two of them would stand in front of the entrance for a moment where he would lean down from his almost 6 foot tall height to give his wife a kiss. Whether they knew it or not, this was always their little gift to me, the woman who has always seemed to fail at love.

So, for two years I witnessed the love, humor and devotion between these two elderly people. She, faithfully, tirelessly, making the drive in with her husband. He, accepting his role as passenger, accepting his wife's care. Sometime I could see a sheen of frustration, weariness and exasperation between them, but that aura of love never dimmed as far as I could tell.

My sister and I didn't get to the center as much for another two years while she did her treatments at home. When she did start more regular visits (while doing a different type of home treatment) we saw that things had changed some for Jerry and his wife as well. For one thing, the huge truck had been replaced by some type of small vehicle that seemed not quite as sturdy. (Jerry later told me that their children had recommended the change as a something more fitting to their mom's physical abilities. Climbing into and jumping down from the truck had gotten to be too much for her. Jerry preferred the truck because he felt it kept his wife safe in the Alaska weather and traffic.)

The other thing that broke a small piece of my heart was that Jerry was now in a wheelchair. He had to be helped out of the vehicle and into the chair by either his wife or, sometimes, one of the attendants at the clinic. His wife always hovered nearby, supervising the transfer. They still paused at the entrance to kiss, hug, reassure.

One day a couple of months ago, I happened to overhear an attendant refer to Jerry by his surname, which I had never bothered to know.  I was a little startled because I recognized the fairly uncommon name as also belonging to an old acquaintance of one of my brothers.

Hmmm...

I called and asked my brother about this guy's father. Turned out that "my" Jerry was the father of "Hugh."

The next time I saw Jerry, I mentioned the connection and he was as amused as I was.

"Small world, kid." (Okay, he was in his late 70's so it's okay with me that I'm 50 and he called me "kid.")

"Sure is, Jerry. Sure is."

About three weeks ago, not feeling well at all, I dropped my sister off at the clinic and returned home to rest. When she called me halfway through her session, I thought it was because she'd forgotten something at home or in the car so I answered, ready to tease her. I knew something was wrong the minute she said my name.

"Jerry died."

I swear my heart actually ached.

"One of the techs just told me," she said.

Jerry's wife had actually stayed with him for his treatment that day - something that didn't happen often since they had gotten older. He'd had a great treatment, had been his usual charming self, joking with everyone, teasing the techs, flirting with his wife.

When his treatment was over and he'd been un-tethered from the machine, he just suddenly dropped and died. He'd had a heart attack.

I thought of his wife. I thought of how she happened to be there on that day. Blessing or curse, I don't know.

I thought of how they'd always shared a kiss and a moment. And then I remembered something else.

One time when we were talking and I mentioned Jerry's wife, he had called her "my sweet girl." I can't remember the conversation, but he had said something like, "I have to see about it for my sweet girl there."

His sweet girl.

Of course, my sister and I wondered how Jerry's sweet girl was doing in the days after his death. We wanted to be able to send condolences - a card or a call, something.

Days passed with no newspaper obituary, no information passed along from the clinic staff. Nothing.

The other day, I Googled for information and found out that this family has had their share of heartaches.  Untimely deaths of children and such. And now, the patriarch gone.

Maybe there will be no services. Maybe they are just dealing with their loss in a very closed and private way. I can respect that. I don't really need a funeral to say goodbye in my heart.

Rest in peace, Jerry. God will keep watch over your sweet girl.

Peace
--Free

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Everyday People




I am always thinking about why people are the way they are. I have not figured that out - and probably never will since I don't think I am intended to. So, while I don't understand WHY people are the way they are, I love watching THE WAY THEY ARE... And like with Edrick, I wonder how many people you know who:

~ Never makes mistakes.
Well, they DO, but they somehow manage to auto-correct history. For example, the person who rags on ANYone who runs a red light or has a fender-bender. Then when they have an accident that dang near rips off the hood of the car... Suddenly, there is a very logical reason. or else it's not that big a deal. Somehow, that accident never comes up without SOMEbody changing the subject. Give it a few weeks and you'd swear there had never BEEN any accident.

~ Can solve EVERY problem in the world.
This is the person who never just listens and empathizes when someone unburdens themself. Nooo... This is the one who wants to Dear Abby you to death. Everything you did that got you into a heartache, a debt, an argument... they are going to tell you exactly where you went wrong. This person doesn't know how to just be an ear and a shoulder. Solutions might be welcome later, but sometimes folks just need a friend, not Captain Fix-It-All.

~ ... Every problem, that is, but their own!
The same person saving people from themselves can also sometimes be the one mired in a mess of their own. (My mother used to wonder aloud if people like this "hear themselves.") It's disconcerting to hear a person talk at one point about their heartbreaking marital issues, then later express their brilliance in choosing the perfect partner. Every time this happens, I tune out the Hallelujah chorus and remember that some folks do their wishful thinking out loud.

~ Like picking on their cousins: Pot and Kettle
These are the ones who are so busy making note of their peeves to ever recognize their own annoying habits. I personally know people who will complain about noise and lights early in the morning, but sound like soldiers coming home from war every night on their way to bed.

~ Love you most in front of an audience
My favorite. Truly. These are the ones who just love you to pieces, always has your back and will never let a tear fall down your face. IF there is someone around to hear and appreciate this warm affection. It will really make your heart melt. Until you need anything after the audience has gone away. You can probably get what you need, but, boy oh boy, it WILL come with a price.

~Are not bad enough to make you not love them.
These are the majority in my case. Lord knows, I have my faults, so I have no problem loving my friends and family in spite of the "bruised" parts of their personalities. With only a couple of exceptions, I truly like AND love my people. I love the others, but other than that, I just use them as subjects for some of my blog postings! lol

So, um...

Peace
--Free

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Teeth, Eyes or Limb?


Yes, it's time once again to play the game of If-you-had-to-lose-one-thing... (I don't know why I do this over and over. Well, I do know: it's because my answer always changes!)


Let's see - if you had to lose one thing today (other than your life, of course), what would it be? And I'm not talking about things like the love of God. I don't play around with that! I'm talking some ability or function.


My first thought is that I would not mind losing my ability to taste things. Maybe my big behind would lose some weight! I'd only want to lose taste if I could also lose any sense of smell. I know that the two go together, but I think it would be absolute torture to be able to smell a wondeful meal AT ALL and not be able to savor the taste. Then again, if I could not smell, what about things like fire?


Sooo... No. Taste and smell are out.


Hearing woud be my next choice. Except I am so nosy that nosy is a required daily vitamin in my life! But we'll hold that one aside. I might could deal with lack of hearing.


Sight is definitely out. I can't even stand my situation of being... whatever it is when big things are blurred at a distance and small things are blurred up close. Yeah, I've had a taste blurring sight. I don't think I would want to be blind. Again - too nosy and too visual. I love being able to see the beauty in things.


This is getting kind of tough.


Losing the sense of touch might not be the worst thing. How bad would it be to not be able to feel something? (And I mean this for those of us past our youthful hormonal existence and primary reason for living.) 


I think I am on to something with the touch thing. I really can't imagine any cons. Think of the benefits...


Doing the worst of your dishes without being bothered by the residue of leftovers and the slime of old soapy water. Doing laundry without feeling those crusty-toed socks that men seem to create just by wearing them.


Okay, that's not exactly a plethora of benefits, but the lists of cons is pretty bare.


Wow. I think I finally have the answer to this quandary!


Peace
--Free

Monday, January 23, 2012

Where I sit


So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great. (Job 2:13)


I have been listening some to the contending politicians. Some are doing a lot of talk about people in need. What they are saying is not very thoughtful or insightful  By that I mean that they are not thinking deeply about what they say and they are speaking on things into which they have little personal insight. How do I know this? Because I have said some of the same things in the same way.

Little did I know - back when I was pontificating on it - that poverty and need is not a stereotype. There is no stereotype for those conditions. There are stereotypes for actions and consequences, but not for conditions and circumstances.

I am black and female, on food stamps and medicaid. Sounds like a what some would call a stereotypical situation until you think more about how I got here and have some insight into how it affects me.

I was previously of a different "stereotype." A woman in a solid family, working in skilled fields of employment -  as a corporate trainer for a customs broker, then as a real estate clerk, then as a specialist in a state unemployment office. Yes, the irony. I owned an average home (nothing fancy, but not shabby, and in a very decent neighborhood), drove an average car, had the average "working stiff" lifestyle. I never considered myself as being financially poor, but realized that I was not upper middle-class or above and was content with that. I have no criminal history - in fact, I had a Homeland Security/FBI clearance for my brokerage employment - and my neighbors felt safe living near me. I was liked and respected.

That was about six years ago.

Understand, please, that living does not always go as we plan. Things happen that you don't expect to. Economies stumble, families lose members, hasty decisions turn out badly, people lie to each other. One thing leads to another - another same sort of thing, another good or better thing, or another bad or worse thing.

In my case, I have been led to where I lost a house, finances crashed badly, emotional health suffered, then physical health followed.

Here I am. Black. Female. On food stamps. On medical aid.

I am not a statistic or a stereotype. I am a person trying to heal and get back to a better place in life.

Please don't talk about me as if I have a color-coded, bar-scanned tag plastered across my forehead. Don't try to popularize your opinions - to win votes or friends or an argument around the office - by labeling my situation. You might be right here where I am someday. If not you then maybe your son, daughter or other loved one.

In the meantime, don't wait to be where I am to gain compassion.

I am taking action to get better and to get out of this situation. That's really all anyone else needs to care about.

Peace
--Free



Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Edrick

In thinking about and talking about people I know, I can list the good, the bad and the ugly. I know a lot of beautiful people. I know people who I believe should have halos and wings. Then there are those people who should have horns and a spiky tail! lol... One of those people I will call Edrick. Good as name as any:

Edrick is the person who is very intelligent, charming and sure of himself. We all know an Edrick. He is the one who is fazed by nothing. The one who never sees things as a worry but as a challenge. We all secretly (or even not so secretly) want to be a bit like Edrick.

Edrick is an accomplisher, a meeter of goals, a riser to challenges, a winner, a success. Edrick is driven to taste all the finer things the world has to offer. Edrick is never content, never still, never at ease. Edrick lives for more, bigger, faster, latest, better and best.

But Edrick has his own errors of personality.

Edrick - for all that he is and all that he has - is lacking something. There is a meanness about Edrick, a need to belittle people. Edrick needs, just every now and then, to make someone the butt of a joke or a taunt. He needs to be just a touch cruel. It's as though Edrick's own decency is held together with a very fine and fragile network of emotional wires that sometime snap.

Edrick is the one who will, in the midst of laughter, warmth and camaraderie, suddenly toss out a nasty jibe at the unsuspecting. What he says will have the illusion of being in jest while having the ability to cut deep into the soul of his victim. But because of his charm, Edrick will get away with it. His victims are chosen carefully - they are the ones who love him, look up to him and want to please him. They are timid and eager not to be hurt. And when they are hurt, they hold it inside with all the other gifts of pain and disappointment that Edrick has doled out over time.

The Edricks of the world feel tallest when standing above someone and feel most powerful when a light is shining their way. That is the error of the Edricks of the world. There is a missing piece to all that they are, all that they have accomplished, all that they gather.

I believe there are too many Edricks because the world admires Edricks. The world does not stand up to them. No one speaks for the victims of Edricks. The only way to survive an Edrick is to be steeped in God's love and favor and strength or to be as wicked and lacking as an Edrick.

So, of the people I have known in this life, the Edricks are the most damaging and exhaustive. Fortunately, there are anti-Edricks. I will save those for other posts.

Peace
--Free

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Afflicted

Definitions of "depression"

Psychiatry a condition of general emotional dejection andwithdrawal; sadness greater and more prolonged than thatwarranted by any objective reason

depressed  or sunken place or part; an area lower than thesurrounding surface.

Both work when talking about the state of our minds and lives.

There are so many amazing people using Google Plus. Someone there was brave enough to announce his personal battles with depression. Another person remarked that "Silence is deadly." So I am speaking following example and speaking out here about my own battle. (Not that regular readers probably haven't guessed at it before!)

I don't really know how to address the issue except to point out some things I have noticed:

  • My depression is mine and no one else's. I don't understand it fully and I can't expect others to understand it with or for me.
  • I don't need people to understand it. I just need them to accept me with my depression and it's weight.
  • Some people feel that depression is just a bad mood that a person can "snap out of." 
  • Being depressed is not the worst part of this battle. Trying to pretend I am not depressed is the worst part. Trying to appear "normal" and "happy" when I am not.
  • Depression for me is sometimes a force of  sudden "Un-ness."  Un-expected, un-controllable, un-explainable, un-definable tears and grief and ground-opening-up-beneath emotional terror. There is a sense of being un-tethered from life, un-loved, un-lovable, un-needed, un-able, un-salvageable. 
  • Depression for me is a sense of complete alone-ness. For long moments (minutes, hours, days...), I will feel as if I am locked in glass walls of sadness while I can see other people moving on around me, living their lives so normally while normal is not something I can comprehend at the time.
  • When depressed, I am not only sad but disappointed that others cannot see my pain. The things they do and say that have such profound impact on me - it means nothing to them because the can't understand my depression.
Maybe that explains it all somewhat. Maybe not.

Part of my depression is due to my Sarcoidosis. I was in a period of depression for months before I was diagnosed. It seems to have gotten worse with the raging of the Sarc. I think that some of my depression is due to the disease itself and some is due to my dealing with the disease. I don't know if that makes sense, but having the disease is one thing in a physical way and another thing is a daily living way.

Since I have been diagnosed, some people treat me as though I am less than I was before. Less smart, less capable, less human, less real, less worthy. God forbid I have a mood swing and get grumpy. This disease gives some people an excuse to be cruel and superior. But in a very nice and loving kind of way, mind you.

Depression is tough, but so is life. Depression is part of my life so I treat it as such. I am lucky to have an understanding and truly compassionate doctor and a best friend who deserves wings and a halo. They keep me steady (for the most part) and constantly repair me when I break myself into mental pieces and the rest of the world steps on those pieces. 

If you know someone who you think might be depressed, pray for them. Try to approach the subject of their getting help. Make it easy for them to open up. It's okay for you not to understand the depression; you can still love the person. And don't let their smiles fool you. No one can appear happier than a person who is about to drown in depression. 

Peace
--Free

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Mami

I was just now commenting on my G+ to someone about the sweet people I meet when I visit my sister during her dialysis treatments. One of them I think of as "Mami."

Mami is so easy to fall in love with. She is a tiny lady always wrapped in layers of shawls and scarves. Under all those wrappings, I can tell that she has lovely hair, thick and smoothed back in waves. When the technicians seat her in her dialysis chair and finish attaching her to the machine, they wrap her legs in blankets. Mami speaks very little English and I speak zero Filipino. We communicate with smiles, hand-to-hand touch and the feel of what we say to each other. It works.

Three times a week Mami and my sister receive their treatments, sitting for four hours while a machine cleanses their system of toxins. My sister watches DVDs or plays games on the tv that is provided. Mami watches tv for about ten minutes before she dozes off, sleeping like a child until time to go home. If the people around her talk too loudly or too much, she will wake and tell the techs that "They are too noisy. Too noisy for me to rest." And everyone will quiet down a little so that Mami can sleep.

Mami's son and daughter-in-law transport her to and from the treatments. She and I typically get to spend five or ten minutes together while she is waiting for her ride and I am waiting to take my sister home. We talk to each other in words and pantomine ("I was in the hospital this weekend. Chest pains." "Are you feeling okay right now?" "Yes, yes, I think so.") We manage to exchange bits of news ("How is your sister?" "She's doing well." "My husband will be coming here." "To dialysis?" "To Alaska. Here." "Where is he now?" "In the Philippines still, but he is coming here.") I learned that her husband is deceased. It doesn't matter, she still loves him so I always ask about him and she always tells me that he will be coming here soon.

When Mami's children arrive to take her home, she will touch her lips to my cheek and tell me she loves me. (When I first cut off most of my hair and felt de-Trudied, Mami told me "You are beautiful.") I tell her I love her. We will  expect to see one another "day after tomorrow." Always day after tomorrow, every other day of the week, as long as dialysis works for Mami and my sister.

So that's what I can tell you about Mami.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, January 07, 2012

I Didn't Break the Internet, But...

... I did something to my Google Plus! LOL

I was over checking out the latest of "What's Hot" on G+ and... not sure what happened. I was trying to comment on a post I had just read and, um, it disappeared.

I'm not kidding. I am a little bit scared right now. I hope no one over there notices.

Anyway, here is another site showing the article, which is very, very cool. I get sick of young folks throwing the whole "green" thing in my face. This is the perfect response. Enjoy.

Peace
--Free

(P.S.: I'm going back over to G+ to see what the heck I did!!!)

Sunday, January 01, 2012

It's Here: 2012

Wow. When I was about 15 or 16, I could not  have conceived of life in 2012. 2000 and 12... Whoa.

So, I made it. Sort of surreal to think of being alive in this year when I was born in 1963. Born into a world of no computers, no cable tv, no cell phones... And living in a world where all of that is almost passe! Wild.

I made resolutions, not many, but a few. I will keep them to myself, but can let you know that I decided it is an easier and less painful life if you only care much for the right people and things.

I wanted to take a picture that symbolized the new year, but can't find even one that begins to cover it. I will have to ask my niece Gabby to draw something for me.

Anyway - here's wishing you all a happy, blessed, healthy, peaceful and joyful 2012. May God keep you under His love.


Here is the best I can do for a pic for now. (Isn't this kid just adorable?) This is going to be a funky-happy new year! lol





Peace
--Free

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Tactics for Difficult People?

First, there was the great and much needed  resource of Isaiah 43:1-3 which helped me and several other people I have since talked with. Then there was the information on the Living Wills/Advanced Directives. Now, there is even more information on a subject I had been dealing with over the last few weeks: dealing with difficult people. Surprisingly, this is a little more humorous than you might think.

As you know, I had been having problems with someone who was working a real manipulation on me: breaking me down by ignoring me, diminishing my past achievements and efforts on their behalf while building up someone else in front of me. It almost worked, but I broke through the situation's effect on me with prayer.  Thankfully, it did not damage my very important relationship with the other person they were using.Now that both of us are aware of the situation and dealing with it together. (Might want to go do some warfare with those verses from Isaiah if you are having the same problem! lol)

Anyway, lo and behold, the same person who had been working their subtle little evil on me, recently had the mean-ness turned on them by someone else. Now, I don't think it's right to break people down - no matter who the person is or what they have done. It's just not holy, it's not of any kind of good, and it's pointless mind games. This is one of those hurtful situations you wouldn't wish on even an enemy.

 Here's the deal: Sometimes you can kid someone about something and it won't bother them, where at other times it will bother them. A lot. Just because of their circumstances. For instance, if I tease someone about putting on a few pounds and it was because of the holidays, that's not so bad. Especially if the person is doing well emotionally or okay in the other areas of their life. But if I tease that same person in the same way after, say, they have had a medical problem... Eh, that's not so good. In the first example, you are dealing with someone who is most likely not going to be thinking about your comment five minutes after you say it, It's gonna roll right off of them as they focus on all the other positive stuff they have going on. On the other hand, the person in the second example is likely to take the comment deeper to heart. They might be thinking about the comment and how awful it makes them feel for the next week. How freaking depressing, right? (I have been there and had to pray my way out of the very dark places I was taken.)

Anyway, I say ALL that to set up this: I have a certain family member who obviously has either a loose moral screw, attention deficit disorder (as in he doesn't get enough attention and needs more), or is just plain ignorant. Whatever the case, he has a talent for saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the worst possible time. This is not just a talent; he has a skill for this. If they handed out Masters degrees for being a jerk, he would have a wall full of them. No kidding. He is a prime-A, foot-in-mouth jerk-a-verbal-looza.

*shaking out the stress & taking a calming breath*

ANYway, what happened was, the Jerk's victim was sharing some really wonderful family news with relatives out of state via Skype. Everyone was suitably happy, congratulatory and family-like. We were all having one of those warm, Walton family moments.

Then the Jerk made his appearance.

After congratulations to the victim, his next comment was a put-down regarding her weight.

Seriously.

He was so quick-draw with it (like he always is) that no one, not even his wife had time to try to sweeten it up. As usual, she suffered her own embarrassment in silence. She might as well, because he would surely turn on her. And there is nothing like a jerk who is smart and verbally quick on his feet.

Anyway, also as usual when the Jerk lets his Dr. Jerk side out, everyone just does the phony "haha" laugh and hopes for the moment to pass quickly. It usually does, but like I said, it lingers for the victim.

Now, I have never been sure why the Jerk is this way, I think his emotional cogs don't mesh right and I have serious questions about his Christianity at times. I think he is aware of his problem and I think he struggles with it (at times), but, like other weaknesses, it is his ongoing battle,

Whatever.

The victim in this case, now gets a taste of their own medicine (though I hate that it came about like it did and when it did. I understand the lingering emotional fallout it can cause). What I want to point out is that there are resources, of sorts, for dealing with these kinds of situations.

There's this site on dealing with difficult people.

Here's another site offering examples and responses.

Personally, I use the ignore and mirror tactic because it's the most honest. You basically ignore most of the person's actions that are too silly for your energy. When they are bothersome, you mirror them - treat them the way they treat you. If you know anything about people, it's that bullies are really cowards and they can rarely take what they can dish out. My tactic is not the most Christian way to handle things, but I am human, after all. I have a LOT of things I can pull from this person's past to bring up. There are incidents with the law that she tries to forget about, incidents where she wasn't on her most moral behavior... Like they say, bullies better guard their secrets very well... And, then, there is the granddaddy of them all: "One day when your kids grow up..." What goes around comes around sooner or later.

At any rate, I hope that you find a successful way to deal with the difficult people in your life. If you remember that they do hurtful things to make them feel better about their own weaknesses, you can work it out. And understand that the negative causes of the whole situation is about them, not you. They are the ones trying to ease some kind of pain with passive-aggressive actions. As my sister pointed out to me when we had a good laugh over our situation, "You have to kind of feel sorry for her and just try to be nice about it." So I do. Most of the time! LOL

Last of all, some humor. If you just need a witty retort sometimes, try these:

  • The trouble with her is that she lacks the power of conversation but not the power of speech.
    ~ George Bernard Shaw
  • I don't take it personally. Everytime you open your mouth you offend someone.
  • Well, you probably said it without thinking, the way you do most things.
  • It's not what you say, it's the thought behind it that counts and I know there's never much thought behind anything you say.
  • Ignoring enemies is the best way to fight.
Mostly, though, when you really just get tired to the hilt of someone's b.s., call them on it. Save that for when you are really, really done with it. Just tell them right to their face what you think they are trying to prove by saying the things they say. Nothing stops b.s. like honest confrontation.

And, seriously - try your hardest to just pray for them. There has to be something wrong with a person who is insensitive. I talk hard about it myself, but as a Christian, I am supposed to continue taking the high road so that maybe they will want to see what the whole "love one another" thing is about.

Peace
--Free

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Family Addition

We have, as of yesterday, a new addition to the family. Isn't he gorgeous...




Yes, yes he is! 



For you created my inmost being; 
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb. 
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; 
   your works are wonderful, 
   I know that full well. 
 My frame was not hidden from you 
   when I was made in the secret place, 
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. 
 Your eyes saw my unformed body; 
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book 
   before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:16


Peace
--Free

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Powerful

Just saw this over on Google Plus in my stream. This is so powerful and says so much that I just had to share it here.

Peace
--Free

Good Grief, Good Gifts!

I am over here having a fit of the giggles. My nephew-in-law did a great job this year getting gifts for my niece. My sister says she is SO proud of him. Thought I won't say what he got her this year, I do remember the early years of their marriage when he would get the most hilarious gifts. He's come such a long, long way!

One Christmas, he got her this outrageously ugly coat. There isn't a word for the kind of hideousness that was this particular coat. And it had the nerve to come with matching gloves! ROFL. On top of it being what I think the British would call ghastly, it didn't fit quite right. My niece looked uncomfortable, embarrassed and sheepish all at the same time. The way she tried to think of something grateful to say was just priceless. It was my sister and me who just came out and told my nephew that the coat was not really the best gift. They replaced it with something. Too funny.

I don't remember if it was for Christmas or for her birthday that my nephew got the vacuum cleaner. It might even have been for Valentine's Day. He was just so new at getting a female the appropriate gifts.

Well, he has certainly gotten better after 9 years of marriage. My niece will be more than happy this year. This actually gives me something to look forward to on Christmas morning.

I wonder what some of the worst gifts people have gotten for each other? I don't think anything can beat that freaking coat...

Peace
--Free