The Spoon Theory

Many people throughout my life have asked me what it was like to be me, a person with a disability. Even though I told them I hurt somewhere every day and some days were worse than others, they would nod, but it was quite plain to see by the look in their eyes they didn’t get it. It wasn’t them, of course, and it wasn’t me. It is impossible in many respects to explain what it is like to be disabled/handicapped; it is just as impossible to explain what it feels like to be black, Asian, or just plain white.

For many years I didn’t even try to explain it because I had grown quite accustomed to the looks in their eyes when they didn’t get it, and if I attempted to explain it at all it would be only to the people who genuinely seemed interested in wanting to know. These people were usually my closest friends, or those on the border of becoming a close friend. Still, despite their desire to understand, they couldn’t, and they seemed, looked sad because they couldn’t understand.

Recently I made a comment to a friend about feeling tired. He said, “So you’ve run out of spoons for the day?” I didn’t understand what he meant. “I read something that sort of explains to me how you are. I’ll find what I read and send it to you in an e-mail link.

He was good to his word and sent the link to me, and now I am passing it along to you because it does explain what it feels like to have a disability.

This woman has Lupus, which, according to the Arthritis Foundation web page, is lumped in with arthritis. I have rheumatoid arthritis so the fatigue she talks about and how you have to plan and that your back-up plans have back-ups are quite accurate.

So, I pass along the spoon theory. Enjoy

Taking Time to Breathe

Finals are fast approaching. They are heading toward the populace of Sullivan University like a freight train preparing to run over a number of damsels and heroes alike that are tied to the train tracks no less. Yes, this is probably quite a bit of exaggeration, but, all in all, this is pretty much how it feels to yours truly at the moment.

Everything was under control. It really was. Or, perhaps, I had just convinced myself of this. Either way, I am fighting for control now with every fiber of my being and am actually beginning to make some headway.

Legal research is the problem child, of course. It was under control. It really was. Then someone asked me today if I had worked on my Am.Jur sheet. My response was, "What Am.Jur sheet?" Yeah, you got it. It seems, since I sit so far away at a computer terminal in legal research class, I don't often hear things. Luckily for me I have made some friends who are helping me keep track of everything that has been handed out. Now all I need is the time to do it.

Earlier today I was feeling a little over-whelmed, (OK, a lot over-whelmed) so I just went into my favorite unoccupied classroom and just sat for a few minutes while waiting on my next class. Do you find it odd I have a favorite unoccupied classroom? It shouldn't, and won't once I've described it to you.

It is a corner classroom. Two walls are nothing but glass and look out at the bright sunshine. It is warmer than most of the other classrooms because it has the sun streaming into it, and it is always bright--as long as the sun is shining, of course--and just feels happy. I have taken to going in there every afternoon just prior to math class and sitting for a little while because I find it quite peaceful. Today I did some breathing exercises just before heading out to class and felt the knot between my shoulder blades loosen some. Just what the doctor ordered.

It isn't just me that is feeling the stress of fast approaching finals. Everyone is. Everyone who cares about their grades that is. (I care. I care a lot. I probably care more than I should, but getting good grades helps validate me. I don't know why. It just helps me prove to myself I am smart I guess and can do what I've put my mind to. And, on a totally different front, it is almost like a game to me, a game I love playing and the good grades mean I've won the game. Silly? Probably. Honest? Most definitely.) Friends I've made here are all wondering how they are going to get all of the assignments done and handed in on time as well as locate enough time to study for some finals. Yes, I am right there with them, but my worry doesn't seem to be making my face break out in pimples or my stomach churn like it normally would be doing. I am giving credit to prayer, faith, and a lot of breathing exercises I'm learning and actually practicing. A friend here at Sullivan has asked me to show her some of them, and as soon as we have some spare moments together I will.

So, today I am taking time to breathe and do the things that make me happy deep down inside like LJ and blogging. Hopefully this isn't boring you too much. It is just nice sometimes to sit down and connect, thought to person and communicate.

It seems communicating actually does help you lesson your fears and worries as well as relieve stress. Hopefully one day I'll keep expanding this to verbal communication as well.

Now it is time to attack the homework before work begins.

Hope everyone is having a splendid August day!

Invictus

I have always loved poetry. There have been moments in my life, still are, when the only way something can be explained or shared has been through poetry. Oftentimes I have nodded quietly at a poem I've read because the poet has captured what I have felt, or explained, in words and meter, something I have been unable to explain to others even though I felt it deeply within my Self.

With everything that has been changing in my life recently, good and bad, this poem has been popping up for me. It isn't because it speaks so profoundly about the ability to change one's self and to be a better person while being "unconquerable" in the Soul and thus being true to yourself. It is mainly because of the idea of struggle it speaks of before the affirmation of somehow succeeding in life. This is very real and true for me right now. The struggle.

Life, of course is nothing but struggle. In my youth I struggled and fought with anger and determination, never quiet simplicity of action. Now I long to struggle quietly so that the victories I achieve, even if I am the only one who realizes the happening as a victory, are my own. If I can do this, (current) fight and struggle, quietly the only thing people will see will be the results and the change, not the turmoil and hardship of the fight itself. Right now it isn't necessary people know I am struggling, fighting for something I cannot, as yet, explain to anyone else. Why? Because when people see the fight they take it for granted it seems, but when they see the results of the struggle, they are more apt to notice the change to its core rather than merely on the surface.

Another reason I am trying so hard to struggle silently is because this is affecting more than me now and I am changing for myself more than anyone else.

Isn't it odd how this happaens sometimes? More of the internal struggles you seem to hide in order to keep the peace or happiness all around you, even if you yourself are miserable and sharing the misery would really just make you even more miserable? Maybe it isn't everyone, or some people, maybe it is just me. I'm not sure any more. Still, the internal struggle happens and I change.

Luckily I can say I have given up all I can give up except for my very life now. I am whittled down to my core; the deepest, most inner parts of my core at that. Now the healing hopefully will begin and create for me a shell that is stronger and easier to maneuver through life with.

So, here it is. The poem that has been roaming my mind for ages, especially during times of intensity such as these happen to be for me. I give you Invictus.

Invictus

By

William Ernest Henley. 1849–1903



OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Some Extremely Interesting Things in the News (Some of it is important, too!)

First off, the really important part: Fisher Price recalls toys because of lead paint!

In Finland there is a chocolate loving squirrel that eats the chocolate and makes off with the toy!

And finally, there is a fellow who claims to have proof of real aliens and UFOs. Yeah, I'll believe that one too when he actually convinces me of it. I haven't been able to play the video but the article does make a relatively good start at making a case for him.

On the school front: I have my class schedule for next quarter. The rooms aren't listed, of course, but other than that it is a done deal. The schedule is as follows:

9:00 a.m. = Domestic relations/Family law
10:00 a.m. = College Mathematics
12:00 p.m. = Legal Writing
1:00 p.m. = Real Estate Law

And there is also an online class I'm taking Criminal Law

The criminal law class makes me all a quiver! There was another class I really wanted to take, but it was an evening class and since the world is going to turn cold and dark sooner than I am prepared for it to, Hubby and I decided it would really be best if I didn't go forth and take the evening class. Actually, it was Hubby that kept bringing this back to my attention. This is just how much I wanted to take the class. Which class? Tort law, which is what we think of as "law" really. I believe it is just a fascinating case. Still, I have criminal law and it is being taught by my favorite teacher, so this is still a plus and I'm not going to complain overly much. In the winter quarter, however, my schedule may drop down to just three classes because of the weather and how well I do not do in the colder months. Who knows, this year the winter may be another warm one.

About the only class I am really not happy about is the math class. I was told that Math 100, my current math class, would be the only one I'd have to take. This was before UK decided it wanted to be difficult and not send me my correspondence transcript. Because of them I am having to take another crappy math class! No, I am not particularly pleased about this change of events, but there is little else I can do about it, of course. Except grumble. And I am probably going to grumble about this for a while.

OK, I'm outta here for the moment. There is a poem I am wanting to share with you, but this may have to wait until tomorrow or later on this evening.

History in the Making!

Planet Mars will be the brightest planet in the night sky starting
August. It will look as large as the full moon to the naked eye.



This will culminate on Aug. 27 when Mars comes within 34.65 million
miles of Earth.



Be sure to watch the sky on Aug. 27 around 12:30 am. The sky will look
as if Earth has two moons.



The next time Mars may come this close again will be the year 2287.



Share this with your friends as NO ONE ALIVE TODAY will ever see it
again!

An Interesting Day of Almost Nothing

There wasn't any school in my future today, or much of anything else. It seems I let myself get over-heated on Saturday even though I did spend lots of time indoors with the a/c running at Bohannan's Books and then at Stone's Throw yarn shop. Actually, I didn't think I had gotten over-heated at all until we were heading home and I said to Hubby, "My head is hurting." Yep. The head continued to hurt right up until about seven o'clock last night. By then I was, pardon my English, a very grumpy bitch. Luckily I was able to sleep lots and lots, and this morning when the alarm went off felt quite nauseous and ill which made me decide to stay home. Much to my own surprise, it was evidently the correct thing I needed to do for my body. Slowly but surely I am beginning to listen more closely to what my body needs and doesn't need. Tomorrow I will go to classes and hit the world wide open again, but am not going to venture out very much beyond the Sullivan's main building.

So, today was spent sleeping and drinking lots of water and, well, just relaxing and letting my body renew its energy. I also spent some time on reading The Healer Within which is a book Just Bill suggested I read. Although I have had the book for a couple of weeks I hadn't actually picked it up seriously until Saturday night because I had promised Just Bill I would read more of it before the next tai chi session.

It is a very simple book. It isn't long at all or difficult to read in the least, but some of the ideas it puts forth are, again, so simple my brain boggles which is forcing me to read it slower. One of the ideas that keeps being hammered home is that we can trust our own bodies and ourselves to know when something is wrong with us and that we know the speed we need to work at in order to help our bodies get better. Having been in the patient side of the world since I was a very young child, this idea keeps hitting me like a sledge hammer, mostly because I have always been silent after voicing a concern to a physician or a nurse and then been told what I am feeling and thinking. Now, here is a book that is saying I know how I am feeling and what I am thinking and it's perfectly all right. It is quite a surprise, especially how difficult it is for me to accept it even though I have wanted for years for someone to listen to me and not just tell me something and send me on my way with a prescription. It is amazing how this book is making me stop and take stock of what I truly think about myself and to trust myself where I am concerned. Despite the shock of it all it is refreshing and peaceful a read.

It seems the more I do tai chi and the more I let myself pray the more I am learning about myself. Some things are just reminders of what I knew before, but other things are brand new. Like confidence. I've struggled with confidence for years. In the younger portion of my life I can sadly admit I was arrogant. Now I realize the reason I was arrogant was I was afraid people would just look at me as a cripple and not as a human being, so I over-compensated. I also realize now that all I have ever wanted for myself was peace and acceptance. Now that I am actually getting the acceptance and the peace is slowly becoming more and more steady, I can actually see that I myself am accepting myself more and more which just so happens to increase the peace I am feeling. When I am not at peace with myself I am not at peace with anyone or any thing. I genuinely don't like feeling this way.

Some of you may be going, "Oh, I've known this for years!" To be honest, I've known it for years too--in my head, but not in my heart. Now the knowledge is progressing to the heart, which means I actually know it in the place where it really counts, matters. Who would have thought that with age there actually came wisdom?

Doesn't this just look like FUN?!

New Drivers, Psychiatrists, and Life in General

There just isn't any way I can explain this better.

Surprisingly Perfect

Sitting here quietly and feeling my medicine start to work. At first it is just a slight tiredness and then there is relaxation. After this point there is about twenty minutes before I start snoring. Thank goodness for muscle relaxers! I'm not sure where I would be without them.

It hadn't really dawned on me I sincerely needed them until my leg muscles began to spasm righteously one evening. When I attempted to bed my knee the spasms became less, but I just couldn't get my leg bent enough to make he entire spasm go away, so I took a muscle relaxer. I am not quite such a silly ninny any more.

Not much has happened today. The world has kept on spinning and my classes have kept on going. The sun was brilliant and it was quite a hot summer's day. It was perfect. It was perfect even with me being in class and inside for most of the day. Now I am tired and the muscle relaxer is beginning to work and I am ready for bed.

Sometimes perfection doesn't really require much to be just what it is...perfect.

Independence?

The more "independent" I become the more I realize we really don't do things completely alone except for perhaps bodily functions, but even then if you are going in a public restroom you could be having someone a few stalls down "going" with you!

The reason I thought about this today was because I did the pool at Cardinal Hill by myself today! It was independent in the fact that my physical therapist didn't suit up and get into the water with me. However, she was there to talk to me and give me moral support while I did my exercises. Once I was out of the pool it hit me just how "independent" we are because we are actually depending on other people to help us be independent.

Let me explain:

In order for me to do the pool independently I need to be lowered into the pool on a lift. Since I cannot get into the pool and operate the controls, someone works the controls and lowers me into the water. This really doesn't mean I did this independently, but on the other hand it does.

What about opening doors or going to the post office? If you hands are full you really appreciate someone holding the door open for you, and even though the post office is slow it seems we still need the people behind the desks in order to fill out forms and pay for parcels, etc. And we go to the grocery store but how much harder would it be if we had to stock the shelves ourselves in order to do our grocery shopping?

As I really am more independent in my life, I realize more and more just how much we actually depend on each other in order to have our life with all of its triumphs and failures. This doesn't make me sad, though, because it brings forth a unity of people, of human kind and actually, if you look at it, makes us realize we are not living in a bubble. People are everywhere helping us live our independent lives, and helping us keep human kind united.

A Sad State of Healthcare

Last night was one of those nights that made me wonder yet again if people in the health care profession actually care about the people in their care. Why? Because they "released" Jayson from the hospital. It was more like they expelled him.

For those of you who may have forgotten, Jayson is my niece Mel's husband. They have been married for three years, but together longer than that. This past year has seen Jayson's health deteriorate rapidly. He has had extreme pain in his back and legs and was told on one or two occasions that it was all in his head. When he went to the doctor about three-four months ago because he was in pain and his right leg was paralyzed, a doctor broke the unspoken rule: he ordered an MRI for a patient that didn't have insurance. It was discovered Jayson had a mass in his spine and was promptly shipped to University of Kentucky Hospital.

Jayson's pain level is high. His pain is massive and so intense he has had seizures because of it.

Eight days ago Jayson had a very long, very intense operation to remove as much of the mass from his spine as possible. It was a 15 hour surgery. When he came out of it he was in excruciating pain and his battle with the pain management group began.

It seemed as if "pain management" didn't believe he was hurting, or that he was needing such high doses of the pain medication. At one point a pain management doctor told Jayson, as well as those of us in the room, he, Jayson, was receiving a cocktail that would actually bring down a bull elephant and it still wasn't helping him completely control his pain. Jayson was accused of very childish behavior and when his PCA--the pump attached to an IV that gave him a boost of pain medicine every 6 minutes-- was removed and he went to oral medications the pain, of course, was even less under control, but Pain Management didn't care at all, and neither did the doctors apparently.

Last evening when Jayson's doctor came in he was told he had been discharged from the hospital and arrangements had been made for him to begin radiation therapy in Hazard, KY on Monday! Jayson had no one with him. It was only by the grace of God a cousin had decided to stop by on the way to Florida to see him. They took him home, once a great and horrible prescription battle was fought.

University of Kentucky Hospital sent the man home in an open-backed hospital gown and didn't want to send any prescriptions with him. The drive from Lexington to where we are from is a three hour drive at the least and he was expected to make the journey without pain meds to help him endure it nor were they encouraging to him at all, just begin radiation therapy on Monday and come back in 10 days so they could remove his stitches.

The super disheartening thing about this is the fact that he was told, in the presence of witnesses he wasn't going to be discharged for 14 days because his body needed to recuperate after the surgery for at least that long before he began the radiation therapy treatments! It hasn't been 14 days yet, but the treatments are already scheduled. This has me concerned, but there isn't anything I can do about any of this situation.

What has happened to health care in this country? Do doctors out there care about their patients any more, or is has health care become nothing more than experimentation and money? I am convinced this is what has happened to UK Hospital. It is a research hospital and Jayson has an extremely rare cancer. The doctors did a very dangerous surgical procedure on him. This procedure gave the doctors performing the operation as well as the assistants a great something to place on their resumes. Once the surgery was over Jayson was no longer any part of a person, a human being. Even just before the operation he was looked upon as a "thing" rather than a human. It made me, and still makes me, physically ill when I think of this!

No, this isn't new to me by a long shot. It has happened to me on and off my entire life. In the beginning my case was unusual and unique and then, when I survived, they (the doctors) decided I was no longer an interesting case. My parents didn't give up on me, however, and they kept fighting until they found doctors that actually cared and placed me in their care. It is even more sad that this has happened to someone like Jayson who is fighting to stay alive and have as close to a normal life as possible.

If you live in the Commonwealth of Kentucky and your doctor(s) want to send you to the University of Kentucky Hospital, find out if there is any other place you can possibly go, because no one cares there except for a few nurses and CNA's I have actually witnessed being kind and nurse-like. As for doctors, only one. One out of who knows how many hundreds.

What has happened to health care in this nation? Doesn't anyone become a doctor any more because they want to help people? And, if they do, what does the profession due to them? How do they punish them to change them or encourage them to be the way so recently witnessed?

One day they will have to answer for their behavior. I firmly believe this. Karma, for want of a better word at the moment, may just turn around and devour them, forget just biting them in the ass!

So...Now What Do I Read?

As you may have guessed from the title, I have finished reading HP7.

I smiled quite a lot at times, giggled a couple of times, and even cried once. Can you guess which part got to me the most and had me crying? I'm pretty sure you have a clue.

The end was...interesting to say the least. However, I am really glad it had its conclusion the way it was, but it almost made me think Ms. Rowling has left herself open for some more stories for later on. It was good to see she left us some hope, but really, why does the novel need to go on any further? This particular story is told and I have fallen in love with the entire series against my will. *big grin* So now I look around for a new series to sink my teeth into. It should be something epic and heroic. Jaybird suggested Fire and Ice which I'll check out at Bohannan's tomorrow if we actually make it to tai chi.

Why would we not go? Well, there is drama brewing. Hopefully I'll be able to explain in a few days.

A Deliciously Slow Day

My first two classes are essentially cancelled. I wouldn't even have come today if not for the fact I have to work today. Even then I would have gladly lain back down to go back to sleep, but Hubby was insistent. No, it did NOT improve on my mood. Still, here I am and I am actually getting ready to do some legal research after tons of email, reading LJ friends' pages, and just goofing off. I forgot what it was like to goof off at the computer. I've missed it.

Hubby sent me the following video. Aren't these guys just simply wonderful?!

Just...WOW!

Hello all. Yes, I know, it's hard to believe I am actually updating here. The really amazing part is that I am actually able to update from Blogger itself instead of having to do an e-mail post. I guess IT security here at school decided Blogger wasn't a horrible creature after all. This pleases me down to my very soul.

It takes so little to make me happy.

This week is mid-term week here at Sullivan. It has...was a quiet week for me until today. Today I had a keyboarding mid-term (no, it wasn't that difficult) and in intro to law and legal research many projects suddenly arrived to be done by Monday morning. Eight o'clock Monday morning. This makes me feel as if, just possibly, I may have to miss tai chi this Saturday and it makes me sad. The projects for the two classes mentioned are quite detailed and will take time. A good amount of time. Since I can't work 24/7 and my brain and body need a break, I may have to use my break on Friday and just sleep and relax, watch movies, and read and on Saturday begin all over again so I can have Sunday off, perhaps.

Something struck me today as I was tooling down the hallway to the student lounge where I was going to have my popcorn and Pepsi for lunch. (I just couldn't find anything neat-o for lunch today, especially since my tummy wasn't feeling absolutely wonderful.) I am a freshman. I am a freshman in college again. Then suddenly I saw it: freshmanism. What is that, you ask? Let's see if I can explain.

You see, when you are a freshman in high school or college you are essentially the new person. You are experiencing something that you haven't experienced before. You are meeting people, different kinds of people, and most things are vibrantly original, at least to you.

It has happened to me, too, of course. School and attending school is new, again. It fills me with elation and joy and makes me look at my schedule with surprise because it is so full. However, the freshman-itis portion of freshmanism wore off relatively quickly for me and I can say, quite happily, I have a pattern to the days and I enjoy them; the innermost me remains the same while more knowledge is crammed into my brain daily. However, recently I've been seeing how it has affected some of my younger contemporaries.

It is the "college dating" portion of freshmanism. Couples are forming. It isn't unusual to see a couple hugging in the hallways between classes or curled up on couches together in the student lounge. Did they all meet here at school? The majority have, which was a surprise. They have become couples in the past five weeks of school and some of the very young ones are adamant they have found their soul mates, while others are just happy not to be alone in a strange place.

Cliques are also forming. Even I am slowly gravitating towards familiar people and making new friends, albeit slowly and especially more slower than my young contemporaries. Luckily I can stand back and look at what is happening around me (figuratively, of course) and not advance into conversations or decisions being made because a) the serious decision of where to go for lunch doesn't affect me; b) it doesn't matter I am not going to have a black shirt to go with my black slacks just like this or that person's so we'll match on "dress Fridays"; and c) I am not completely disheartened by the establishment at this point. It may come, after all it is a bureaucracy we are going through to receive our education. However, the main difference for me is that I don't expect it to disillusion me or cause me problems. If it does, well it doesn't, if it doesn't I am happy and extremely grateful.

One of my young acquaintances is from a small town in southeastern Kentucky. She is so homesick she can't see herself staying here beyond 18 months to get her Associates degree in paralegal sciences. She doesn't like "the city" and can't wait to go home on the weekends. Today I gave her my number and e-mail address and told her that if she wanted to go shopping or needed something to give me a call and I'd do my best and try and help her out. Why? Because she looked so lost and I could have benefited from this so very long ago when I went through college the first time. She looked like she needed a Sissy.

Yes, freshmanism is definitely here, but somehow I'm not fitting into it exactly. When did I become a caring adult? Have I always been this way? A seriously large part of me would like to believe I have been, but the truthful part of me simply can't agree because it knows better. Still, I am glad this much has changed in me.

OK, time to get back to legal research.

If all goes well there should be more tomorrow!

The Wait is Almost Over!

I didn't intend to be a Harry Potter fan.  I had no intention of it at all.  I read the first three books because a friend bought them for me as a present.  I felt guilty in not reading them since they were indeed a gift.  The first book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, was a quick read.  Despite myself I enjoyed it.  However, when I read HP and the Chamber of Secrets I was pretty sure the third book would completely suck, but that would be all right because I would have used my present and then I could give them away and not feel guilty.  However, with Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban J. K. Rowling had me hooked, and hooked deeply.  Suddenly the characters weren't just children, but an entire world had opened up and it was a fascinating place to run away to.  Since the third novel I have waited, sometimes patiently, for the novels to come out and began purchasing them in hardback because I wanted to keep them like I do my lovely Charles Dickens.  Once I have the seventh novel, which should be in my greedy little paws by tomorrow afternoon with the delivery of the mail, I will sit and read it quite happily.  I will even get the homework done early so there will be time for me to sit and read quietly.  I will enjoy it and see how it ends.  Is Dumbledore really dead?  I don't believe he is because of something he told Harry once.  I will vanish into this newest of fantasy worlds that has won my heart over and when it is through I plan on going back to book one and reading all the way through to book seven.

 

Am I saddened the series has ended?  No, not really.  Why?  Because the story is finished.  I have been brought into a world I can enjoy and I have laughed and cried with the characters and literally wept over Dumbledore.  But, also being the writer, I understand how it is--the tale has been told.  Doing any more with it would make it just for the money instead of just for the adventure of telling the tale and seeing what was going to happen next.  Why mess with a good thing when we have all known from the very beginning there was going to be a conclusion and wrapping up of the story with book seven?  I am hoping, however, Ms. Rowling doesn't stop writing.  Period.  I am sure she has other stories and novels up her sleeve and tapping furiously at her gray matter to get out.  What will be next from her?  As far as I am concerned it doesn't even have to be a fantasy novel.  I just would really like to read more from her.  Maybe she will write a romance or a horror novel or maybe even a sci fi piece!  The horizon is the limit, and since we never technically reach the horizon....  You understand what I am saying.

 

So, to everyone out there waiting for the next Harry Potter novel, I am SO right there with you!  I can't hardly wait!  What are your Harry Potter parties going to be like?  Anyone want to share?  For my own I am planning on going to Georgetown, KY where it is reported the entirety of Main Street will be closed down and there will be "wizards" wandering the streets and doing their tricks, and people running around in costume and enjoying their piece of Hogworts-style fun.  Yep, going to be as much in the middle of it as possible.  I hope Hubby can tolerate all the wonders of it.

 

(And yes, each and every time I so much as think about being in the middle of things Just Bill pops into my mind and I can't help but smile.)

I'm Still Alive, but There has Been Fifteen Hour Operations

Yes, I am still alive. Still kicking. Still feeling as if life is suddenly full and pulling me forward at a breakneck speed. It is fun for the most part. Except for those days when I lose my footing in the "breakneck speed" thing and get drug for a few hundred feet before Life goes, "OK, sorry about that. Why don't you rest for a moment?" Yesterday was one of those moments.

It has been coming on for a while. I have felt myself losing pace with everything and stumbling here and there in attempting to keep up. Yesterday just happened to be the final moment when I couldn't regain my footing. It began quite normally with getting up at 5:30 a.m. and then heading to school, which, to my surprise, was quite relaxing. I had a good three hours before I had to work in the tutoring lab so I used that time to relax and eat some popcorn, watch one of my favorite soaps, and get some major legal research done. At work someone actually came in for help!

After work I headed to UK hospital to check on how everyone was doing because Jay was having his operation. If I am understanding correctly, it began about 2:30 p.m. and ended at 5:00 a.m. this morning. My niece said the surgeon told her it was a 15 hour operation! Hubby and I stayed at the hospital as long as I could take it which meant we were not home until about two o'clock this morning, which left only three hours of sleep for me. When my alarm went off my feet were throbbing. I had already been dreaming about walking up this mountain and my feet were absolutely killing me. It was also happening in reality (except for the walking up a mountain part of course). So, I didn't go to school today.

I've slept. I've eaten. I've relaxed. I've studied. Lucky for me there is this thing called "Free Friday" at school which lets you make up the things you've missed. I am putting my first Free Friday to use. I feel more relaxed about school right now than I have for quite a while.

OK, off to bed with me now. More later kiddos.

I'm Alive!

Life has been happening to me, for me, with me, around me, and as many other places as can possibly be thought of for the past several days.

School is progressing. Now the first week is over us students, especially us new students, are thrown into the deep water and told to swim. So far I am swimming with the best of them. Mid-terms aren't here yet, but I am feeling a little more confident than I have for a while. The law research class is proving my hardest class. I am working on it as hard as I possibly can and succeeding. There is a completely different mind-set to get into and I am not quite there, yet. I am not stopping until I am though. This challenge helps remind me I am alive (although currently exhausted) mentally and physically.

My niece's husband is in the hospital at University of Kentucky Hospital with an extremely rare form of cancer. The original diagnosis meant that he was one in a million; now it has been discovered he has the rare form of this particular cancer, so the odds have grown tremendously. Wednesday he is going into surgery to try and remove some of the cancer. Sadly, in order to remove part of the cancer the surgeon is going to have to remove part of his spinal cord. No, not a good thing, but a necessary thing.

Now I go and study.

Banana Sushi ahead - Set Phasers to Deep Fat Fry.

(You're right, the title makes no sense, but it's not supposed to)

Cheyenne here again, checking in on behalf of our wayward Editor.

While we're waiting on her to return to make her triumphant return (ask her about shushing a drummer when she gets back), I provide a couple of links for your enjoyment.

First, in case you wonder just what it is I do with my time, I supply a brief description of what I do at the office. Mostly, it involves programming, and the occasional duel to the death with barbarian snakes. These are the trials of a ninja code monkey.

Secondly, for your inspirational poster needs, a veritable slew of original series Star Trek inspirational posters. I myself am partial to the “Captain James T. Kirk,” “Expendability,” and “Ingenuity” ones myself.

I'd say that the Editor will return tomorrow, but last I heard, the entirety of her plans for tomorrow were 'sleep' - which sounds like a good plan to me. Rest assured, though, she will be back as soon as she can.

"Each racing foot is made of about 50 to 80 layers of curved carbon fiber and weighs almost four pounds."

http://sports.yahoo.com/sa/news?slug=ap-amputeesprinter&prov=ap&type=lgns   This is a link to a very interesting fellow by the name of Oscar Pistorius.  His story and courage encourages me, and I thought it might encourage you as well.

 

 

Felt like a Monday, but it has turned out super! Thank you, God!

Yes, I know, I should already be in bed by now. Believe me, I'm going. The only thing I really wanted to do today just for myself was to sit down and . . . share:

For a while now I have seriously been worried about how I was actually going to be able to do the research I need for my classes as well as for my job since most everything I need is in law books that are usually 2 to 3 inches thick and feel wonderful in your hands (although my hands nearly drop them every time). Today was the first actual "research" thing we did (and it was very easy, thank goodness). And I did it, too!

How, you ask? There are twp places I can go to to look up cases and other things. I is called Westlaw.com and the other is called LEXIS. You have to have passwords for these places and you seem to need to be in school or actually working in order to use these two electronic resources. Even though I have not received my LEXIS password yet, I was able to use Westlaw to do what I needed on-line and keep up with everyone else. This made me quite happy! It felt as if I had almost discovered a new way to tie a bow or something! I was giddy with it.

Then it hit me -- I'm preparing to use these tools in my education and then a job. Me. The Editor. Yep. Going to be using these two items a lot because attorneys don't have time to be reaching me big thick books. So, I have decided I am going to be the "Westlaw and LEXIS Whizz" at Sullivan. This will help me and my job career as well as my studies because I will have access from these sources even at home. This makes me relax a little in some ways, and makes me tense in others because there are possible days when the arthritis will try and keep me down. If I can't make it physically into the office I can still telecommute and do what I need (I hope) from home as far as the research is concerned.

According to my intro to law teacher, the new trend is to go electronic. I am right there, people. I love books. I'll never give physical books up, but man, will I use the dickens out of Westlaw and LEXIS!

A Haro-ing Experience

Hubby and I have a friend we will call Haro.  He is tall, dark haired, handsome, and funny as all get out when he decides to be.  We really didn't know exactly how funny he was until last night.

 

Thursdays are usually our role playing nights.  We play paper/table TPG games like Dungeons and Dragons, Rifts, and now we are possibly beginning to play War Hammer RPG.  To prepare for playing, as in all rpg's you have to make up characters (which is done with rules and dice rolls and careful manipulation of stats in order to make up the character you feel most comfortable with).  The place we usually play at, one of the more famous gaming stores in Lexington, called Rusty Scabbard closed so we went to Barnes and Noble for some drinks and a nice place to roll up characters.

 

It was quite interesting.  Hubby is a human and I am a halfling, or a Hobbit if you will. 

 

Barnes and Noble closed so, as per our usual habit, we stood outside of the establishment and talked of various topics.  One of which ended up being sleeping and dreams.  Haro said he has made plans while sleeping and even ordered a rental van to go to King's Island with his friends.  I will save that particular telling for a later time.  The time I want to tell you about concerns stairs and a skeleton.

 

Haro said, "I jumped down a flight of stairs once."

 

Me and Hubby:  "Why?"

 

Haro:  "Because there was a skeleton down there and I was going to attack it!  I woke when I smacked the wall and my arm was at an unnatural angle and painful.  I also have sleep paralysis."

 

Us:  "Oh?"

 

Haro nodded intently.  "Yep.  I was quite paralyzed when I had fallen asleep in my recliner and the TV was on.  I couldn't move when I woke up, and really wasn't all the way awake, because there was this little alien over by the door peeping out at me and making all kinds of gestures.  It was coming to get me and do experiments on me and was nodding and grinning joyfully, and quite...evil.  I thought 'No, no, no, please don't' and it nodded and grinned more.  It was an interesting night." 

 

I love our friends.  I really, really do.

I R Student

Sitting here in this classroom, at this moment, the difference between myself and the rest of my classmates is quite visible. I am in a wheelchair. They are not. I have been around the block and just by the majority of their behavior and questions it is easy to see they have not (except for one or two older ladies, but even they are younger than me, but definitely older than 19 or 20).

Many are still quite uncertain of who they genuinely are at their very base; I am not so uncertain any more. My base is settled and surprisingly firm.

The one thing we have in common is this class and this school. We are all sitting here trying to open our minds and take in spectacular new information. We have general anxiety on tests. We are students.

No matter what our backgrounds are or the life experiences we have had, in here we are all the same more or less. I find it quite refreshing actually. School, higher education, more education is a challenge I have needed, even desired, for a long time. It is like having a long draught of water after taking a very long walk in the hot summer sun. So far, my thirst has not been quenched. I am beginning to wonder if it ever will.

All of this is so very rejuvenating!

Test #3

This is the third and final test.

Not the Fourth of July I expected, but it hasn't actually been bad either...

There were plans for today. Good plans. Hubby and I would sleep in, then after food we would walk downtown and enjoy the Fourth of July parade and then walk around and see the vendors and listen to all of the wonderful music people pull out at this celebration. We didn't do any of it.

It isn't because we didn't want to do any of it, but because of circumstances far beyond our control as in the following: 1) My niece is here in Lexington at the University of Kentucky hospital with her husband. He is horribly sick. We stayed with her and him until after eleven o'clock last night. This really wiped me out and also Hubby, who would have slept past Noon if I had actually been able to sleep. 2) Since early this morning my stomach has not been happy with me. Part of it could, of course, be nerves, and part of it could be maybe having a touch of something from school. Something was going around Monday which may explain my migraine of yesterday and my upset stomach this morning. Right now, however, I am feeling better and have been able to actually finish my math homework (there is a test in there tomorrow) and I have been studying my intro to law.

Hubby didn't want to go downtown by himself, and he has stayed around here to make sure my niece didn't need something. He is such a wonderful guy.

My break is over now so back to studying I go.

Happy Independence Day everyone! Hope yours has been fantastic!

Sparklers and Fireworks: Celebrating My Dad & the 4th of July

The Independence Day celebrations are quickly approaching. As with most things patriotic the Fourth of July was always special with my family growing up, and even afterwards. For as long as my Dad was alive we celebrated the day grandly and as a family. He is gone now, but the Fourth of July makes me happy, like a little girl waiting for her Daddy to light the sparkler and give it to her in the dark of the day.

My Dad was a World War II veteran. He received the bronze star. The only thing he ever said about it was that he did what he had to do. At his funeral an old friend of his who had served in the war with him said, "It had something to do with a building and a lot of Germans with guns." I asked my Dad's friend for more information and he just smiled like I've seen a lot of Vets smile. It said quite plainly, "If he didn't tell you when he was alive I'm not going tell you now."

Being the creative sort I have tried to come up with scenarios and each time I fail. Not because my imagination isn't good, but because my Dad never wanted me to know what he had done in the war, so I always let it go. About the only other thing I have been able to discover is that it is the "real" bronze star awarded for valor in the line of combat.

My Dad was a hero for my country, one of many who fought and thankfully survived that war. When we celebrated the Fourth it wasn't to celebrate a hero (although he was to all of his girls), we celebrated having him with us and us with him. He celebrated living and being alive as well as the country he fought for still being free: It was still America. And when we lit the sparklers and the pinwheels it was the greatest because we were all together as a family and as a nation.

After lighting out sparklers and pinwheels and singing the national anthem, we would either go downtown to see the fireworks or we would watch the show the neighbor boys would put on for us all. I enjoyed their show more than the one downtown, even though both fireworks displays were over sooner than we all wanted.

We could have hand fireworks, and sometimes we did, but I noticed that when we did the fireworks my Dad never slept as well that night or a couple of nights afterwards. Maybe it reminded him of the war. He was honest when he said he was not proud of what he had to do or did in the war, it was just him trying to survive and come home to his family. "I left a boy and came back a man," he would say, but never with pride. It was just a general statement of fact. And on the Fourth of July he permitted himself to celebrate the fact he had made it back alive, and the entire family celebrated having him with us.

I can remember the glances he and my Mom would sometimes exchange. It wasn't a "knowing" glance, but it was something special and important. She had made it through as well. She had given him four loving daughters. She was there with him at all times. She was his love, and he was hers. The family began with them and even now they are our example.

This Independence Day I am going to celebrate with joy and happiness because my Dad made it back from a war I read about in my history books. I will enjoy the food and the firework displays in acceptance of my Mom's sacrifices for a man she loved until she drew her last breath. I salute and honor all of those who have fallen fighting in all of the wars this country has had to go through in the past, and currently. But, most importantly, I celebrate and honor all of those soldiers in so many branches who have actually made it back and are re-discovering their lives as free men, and not just soldiers. I ask you to also do the same.

Happy Fourth of July everyone.

I Miss My Keyboard

Ahhh, I am home. *relaxes happily before the keyboard and screen*

I miss my keyboard when I am at school. I can type on their keyboards, of course. My speed hasn't decreased in the least, but this is my keyboard and it is set perfectly for me. It feels good beneath my fingers and my hands automatically go to the keys. Many hours have been spent here and, I suspect, many more will be logged before this keyboard is given in for a new model. It is familiar beneath my fingers like an old friend. I need old friends today.

The saga begins.
Promptly at seven o'clock this morning, I called Wheels to update my ride schedule and discovered there wasn't anything for me for the entire month of July. Yes, you could say there was a moment or three of panic. The dispatcher and I went through the schedule quickly and we made sure I was going to be picked up from school, although getting there before eight was going to be an impossibility. Luckily Hubby had not left for the office so he ran me to school and then went on to work.

Once at school the panic subsided a little, but something felt off. I felt off, out of place or, more correctly, sync. The first class of the day went off without problems, as did the remainders of the classes. Lunch was quite pleasant, although I did feel somewhat rushed. Even when I went into the small bookstore to purchase the necessary items I needed -- folders, 0.7 mm lead for my pencil, an eraser -- the feeling of rushed-ness was still present, still pushing me to be to my class earlier and earlier. It was so strong I had to actually sit still and force myself to make a couple of much needed calls before going on to my classroom (it also didn't help that it was math).

When my class was over and I was back upstairs speaking with Cat, the Receptionist, I felt as if I was really just getting to school to begin my day, not waiting for my ride to take me home and that the day was already over (at least that phase of it).

And so we relax and begin anew.
So, now I am home. I have relaxed some. Eaten some. Drank some good cool tea. The dogs welcomed me happily and everything feels once more to have a place and everything is in its correct place. The keyboard beneath my fingers is my own, my old familiar friend, and the dogs are curled around my wheelchair in their happy, familiar places. All is right with the world.

Even though I cannot undo what was done today, I can permit myself a new beginning. A start over. Normally I would be quite uptight about this "start over" mentality because I am not beginning the day again. Why am I not so uptight about it? Because I choose not to be upset and, quite honestly, I am looking at it like tai chi.

In tai chi class when we screw up or forget, we start over. Sometimes it is from the beginning. Sometimes from the very end, or middle. We make sure we go from one move to the next and if we screw up on that move we do it over and over and over.... You get the idea. It would seem like a big headache to do things over, but, really, once you let go of all of the hang ups about being perfect from the very beginning, it is just something that needs to be done to move to the next, newest movement. Starting over gives you practical practice of patience.

Patience is not my strong point, but I'm getting better. And today, well, today has been "off" for one reason or another. So, I'll let myself feel good about my accomplishments from the morning, and I'll let myself refresh and renew for the remainder of the afternoon. The evening, I figure, will take care of itself.

Isn't it amazing how you learn something some place else in your life and it actually makes it into other areas positively?

Oh, and I have not forgotten any of you! I have little things written I will type in here just as soon as possible. Sadly, the computers at school do not appreciate Blogger.com as much as we do. 'Tis a pity.

I Live and Life Has Picked Up Steam!

It is late, yes, but I promised myself I wasn't going to let another single day go by without writing here. Even if, perhaps, you have not missed me, Dear Readers, I have missed you! Having life suddenly jump forward fifty feet and you're holding on with both hands for the ride of your life isn't half as fun when you aren't sharing it with someone, or many someones!

The first week of classes went remarkably well. The elevator at Sullivan and I are now fast friends. I am adoring my intro to law class, and I am beginning to really get seriously interested in the intro to law research class. Sadly I did not test out of my remedial math class so I am looking at it as a learning process and simply moving forward. The keyboarding/typing class is a hoot at the moment. (I have a one page paper, first draft, due in the keyboarding class on Thursday which means I should really get to looking up some material for it.) And, I begin working at the English/writing center on Tuesday.

Yes, I am VERY glad we have off on Wednesday for Independence Day! I need it.

My head and heart are quite full of words to share with you all, but, sadly, I must away to bed and prepare for Church tomorrow. Just wanted you all to know I am still alive, and, well, I miss you. I really, really do, and now that my schedule is settling down and settling in, I should be sharing this wonderful new adventure with you almost daily very, very soon.

Wayward Editor Note

Welcome, one and all, to another somewhat thrilling and informative episode of “Guest Articles by Cheyenne.” This is, as one would hope, Cheyenne, speaking on behalf of The Editor, who asks me to pass along a rather simple message today.

“This first week of school is kicking my butt.”

Show of hands – Who’s surprised at that? Yeah, me neither.

She plans to be back, once she’s gotten the hang of her days now, and I can’t blame her much – she’s up with the sun anymore to get to class, and home in the early afternoon. Unless it’s a PT day. On PT days she doesn’t get home until the evening. And the days will get a little longer for her, too, once she starts tutoring people in English three days a week.

It might be a few days for her to get the hang of things again. But she will be back.

Until she does get back, she thought some of you might enjoy some musing of my own -specifically, this piece on heroes and heroics. It’s not overly long, the way some of my thoughts can get (don’t ask me my opinions on the current state of comic books – that could take days), but it was a fun thought nonetheless.

Today is the last day of class this week, so depending on how things went, The Editor may have a post sometime this weekend. It will probably be a little while longer before she’s settled into any sort of schedule, but she will be back soon.

Exhaustion, and no time to rest...yet.

Today was one of those days when I realized beyond a shadow of a doubt I have truly over-extended myself in the past couple of days. The body aches. I feel tired down to my very core. I am just a little grumpy. I didn't want to begin the week feeling this way, but I did make it to Church with Hubby after all today, which was a great accomplishment in and of itself.

Right after Church today I received a special blessing from Father for strength, physical strength, and, although I am not sure of this, but possibly courage. I was trying hard not to burst into tears while Father was giving me the blessing. Why tears? Because my heart was over-full with happiness, nervousness, and something new I can't yet name.

There was also a little sadness because my Aunt Mary had fallen asleep in the Lord yesterday morning a little after nine. Although I am sad she is no longer with us, I am genuinely glad she is no longer suffering. May God grant her peace.

Well, the backpack is packed with very heavy books, my purse has been arranged and then rearranged, and I am off to bed excessively early so I can actually get up in the morning and take a shower before heading out.

What stories will I be able to tell this week and from here on out?!

No Longer a Life of Quiet Desperation

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. --Henry David Thoreau

When I read this quotation from Walden in high school and later in college I was confident I understood its deepest meaning because I, of course, had all of the answers to life's most puzzling questions and conundrums. Then, of course, I grew older and life happened and I myself understood how it felt to live a life "of quiet desperation."

I have indeed felt that frightening blackness of desperation so intense you dare not speak of it, because if you did there was a certainty it would grow and swell until its blackness would overtake your very world worse than it already had. I felt as if I was always needing something, wanting something that was unknown and just a little out of focus as well as just barely beyond my grasp. I knew, deep down, if I could ever reach that unknown something my life, this life I am currently living would be better, happier. It would finally be My Life.

I was desperate for this unknown thing, and always positive I would never really attain it, although I didn't know why.

I was desperate for something, and this something I was lacking was vital to my very Soul and Ultimate Happiness: Today I realized I had actually attained at least part of . . . It, that previously unknown thing.

Believe me, I was shocked to the very core of my being when I realized a puzzle piece (another puzzle piece) had fallen, or was falling, into place.

I was sitting at the table in Fava's restaurant in Georgetown after tai chi class. Most of the class was there and Just Bill was sitting at one end of a collection of tables while I was sitting at the other. FutureNurse , my best girlfriend, was on my left and my wonderful Hubby was on my right. Without ordering I received a sweet tea and as I sipped the cool sweetness of it, everything slowed for a moment. I saw smiles in the process of blossoming and heard laughter recently formed rising and falling in pitch and timber. Suddenly I felt full. No, not quite full: I felt less empty.

I could feel it, this missing piece, resting there in its slot and section as if it had always been there. I knew it hadn't been, but now I couldn't prove it because it was just THERE -- right where it was supposed to be.

As time returned to its properness and just as the emptiness was less...empty, I also was quite aware there were other empty places that needed filling. The surprising thing about this was it was all right. They didn't have to be filled in now; it was all right if they waited to come (for a little while). I knew, and accepted, I would get to this place where the pieces would come, and I would grow and the necessary pieces would arrive.

What was this missing something I had lived so long searching for and whose absence made me feel so lost and desperate? I didn't know myself until Just Bill explained about the unity of body, mind, and spirit. As he spoke I realized what had been missing in my life --it was a unity of all of these forces and the piece that was suddenly there, suddenly present was a connecting piece helping my head unite with my body and my body with my spirit freeing me to have the intent I need to live my life, to join completely and happily with my husband; to accept and recognize sincerely my need for God. In tai chi terms it was a "transition" piece. It led me from one movement, or phase of my life, into another one. A step needed at the right place in preparation for the next movement.

It only took instants in two separate moments for me to see these things, but it had taken me all of my life to finally reach them, grasp them.

Does this mean I am not going to be an ass any more and no longer say or do things that will cause pain or make me ashamed for having said them? No, not in the least! However, it is my hope the asinine moments will grow less and less frequent which will allow the peaceful moments to remain longer, and even grow!

My life is no longer filled with quiet desperation. I have been watching it change and deepen like a symphony beginning to build upon its notes into something grand. Hopefully I have a different sort of strength forming so that the pains and wars I will go through from here on will be unable to drown this music, this growth and change that has already occurred.

Perhaps this is the music of a life finally being lived.

Wandering Through the Land of Imagination

Books are a very important part of my life, which is something you all know. Getting lost into a good book and writing something in which you can get lost in are such wonderful experiences. There simply aren't any boundaries in many ways where the imagination is concerned. However, when you are writing, you have to make what is happening fair and realistic to a degree (i.e. the world you are working on at the time) because the readers need fairness. They are reading your work because they want an escape from their own lives and they will read and let go of reality until some serious break happens to discourage the illusion. I am that way when I read, and now I am becoming the same with my writing: I don't want to discourage the reader's fantasy and imagination, but I need to be fair to the readers, all of them.

Why am I saying all of this now? Because the end of the tunnel is close enough for the drag queen that I can see glimpses of what is outside the end of said tunnel. And, in seeing it, I can also see a fair way of ending this thing, and an unfair way of ending it. The fair way would require just a little longer writing time, but it would be more right than the wrong way, which would leave a ton of loose ends and unsettled conclusions. Some conclusions I am pretty sure everyone is going to figure out on their own, but some aren't so easy and if I leave them alone....

So, the end is near. I am both elated and sad. I'll let you know when it all happens. Tomorrow will bring this novel-in-progress closer to an end as well as the next novel closer to picking up and rattling forward.

A Meeting of ... Minds?

"We must walk consciously only part way toward our goal and then leap in the dark to our success." – Henry David Thoreau

There are moments that happen when you can see the action taking place just as it is happening. It happens sometimes in accidents where you see everything that is happening and it is happening in slow motion. It isn't just bad things that you can see happening, but good things as well. I had one of those moments this past Saturday.

Saturdays are fast becoming my favorite day of the week (other than Sunday, of course) because of tai chi and then roaming Downtown Georgetown and ending up going to A Stone's Throw for my weekly fix of yarn and yarn related goods.

This past Saturday was very unique because the events slowed, and people slowed, and life moved at its normal pace, but I could see a difference. Just Bill was there for tai chi and, as always, it was enlightening and the faces of the class members were familiar and friendly. The summer heat beat down on us as we went through our movements and were corrected and I felt so very much a part of everything.

I don't just mean class this time. Instead, I felt a part of everything, of life itself. It rolled over me, through me, and I was quite aware of how much I have changed in the span of the past few weeks. I have changed inside, and it is beginning to show outside.

Isn't it disturbing sometimes how the internal changes are always difficult to explain? Teenagers can't explain it, so they rely on music; adults can't explain adulthood, so they explain it in many confusing ways; and the older ones, grandfathers, grandmothers, great-greats we may be fortunate in our lives to still have close to us -- they explain things simply. However, I am not "old" so I don't comprehend completely the simplicity of everything, nor am I so far beyond being a grown woman I can escape the complicated explanations, or so it feels. Then again, I am also not so "adult" I still don't try to reach for music to explain what is going on in my head and heart, inside myself.

This Saturday I felt it all. The heat, the movements, the people around me, the peace inside me, as well as the subtle changes that have occurred. It was all separate -- each event separate -- and connected, because it was all connected to me, in me. I felt how my horizons were suddenly expanded and realized just how much I had closed off from everything. Pain can do that to you, make you close and curl up inside yourself to heal, and the emotional pain of loss can especially do that to you.

I haven't unfurled and uncurled yet completely either. I was exceptionally aware of that as well. This is going to have to happen slowly. The more I feel safe and secure and loved, the more I am going to open. Hubby is doing his part. So are my darling sisters, and my friends absolutely just can't be beat! And they aren't pushing either, they are there to care for this blossoming, blooming person I realize I am becoming. Confidence is taking root and tearing out arrogance; and ideas, like leaping branches are slowly beginning to reach for the sky.

It is going to be interesting to see how that other person who was me finally ends up. I am still somewhat frightened and uncertain of the future, but not to the point now where I can't reach out and feel life again. Mostly I believe it is nervousness. "Prom excitement" is how my friend Future-Nurse describes it. It is quite accurate, at least as far as the feelings are concerned.

For myself it feels as if I am slowly breaking out of a husk, like a seed beginning to finally sprout and live again after being dormant for so very long, healing and regaining the strength I needed in order to live again. Does a seedling feel the beat of the earth as well as its own heart? Does a butterfly? Is this how a caterpillar feels once it finally begins breaking free of its chrysalis? Is this why a butterfly sits outside of its cocoon for a little while experimenting with its wings and its antennae and tongue? Is this how a caterpillar could possibly feel realizing, perhaps oh so very slowly, it is no longer a caterpillar but a beautiful, wind-soaring butterfly?

Sometimes music can say it best!

Popcorn!

Yesterday was the day I went to Cardinal Hill to receive my diet. The "excitement" I had been feeling for most of the week regarding said diet slowly deteriorated into a little un-excited as I saw Nutritionist walking toward me with her happy smile.

Despite what she does, Nutritionist is one of those people that has an infectious smile to go along with her lean body. She works at keeping her body, you can tell, but she has no qualms where "over weight" people are concerned. To her, I believe, their bodies just haven't been fed properly or they haven't had the ability to move and keep moving. Everyone must eat, and the food must be really good to eat, which she also addresses with that happy, ready smile. We went into a small conference room and I received my pyramid -- the food pyramid changed, which really surprised me -- and we went over a few recipes. Surprisingly, she didn't ask me to "give up" anything such as coffee and chocolate. Sadly, if she had requested those two things from me I doubt I would be counting the calories I am at the moment.

Today is Day 1 on the diet. I have had 590 calories, which leaves me with 1010 calories left for the day. Isn't it amazing I have so many left for the day? Making myself eat is going to be the super important thing here. I am not supposed to go more than three hours without eating. Why? In order to keep my metabolism going you have to feed it. It needs energy in order to work properly. Sadly, I have not been eating right. Actually, there have been days when I haven't eaten at all and this does nothing to help you lose weight, only keep it, and add more on to you. I have known this for quite a while, but there is this block in my head at times (yes, I am a blockhead) that doesn't listen to the good things. Everyone does it I've noticed, just on different topics, my topic is food and eating.

Since going to Cardinal Hill and going to tai chi I have discovered, or re-discovered a new love for myself, as well as a new respect. It feels good. It feels...different. The respect I have for myself is far different from when I was younger -- this respect comes from having done far too much and hurt myself in the process, as well as not having done enough and hurt myself in the process. One was because I looked upon myself as super-important; the others was because I didn't believe myself important enough. Now I have a moderate amount of respect, I think. I can't do everything I want to do, no one can, but I can do a good amount of it. And on those days when things aren't so wonderful, or right, or good, well, those are just days when I can look at myself now and smile, because it is simply a "bad day" and not a "bad me." It has taken me years to figure this one out. On some things I am a slow learner.

And I can have popcorn on my diet!

No, Not Forgotten

No, Dear Readers, I have not forgotten you or my darling blog. It is just that recently there has been much running around in preparation rather than in "doing" something normal. I am sure things are going to calm down as things take on their own sort of normalcy in all of the newness. Right now nothing is normal and the preparations are still underway for going to class and getting much work and much life under semi-control. So far...it is progressing.

Night all. More soon. Promise.

What happened to TV Guide?

Today, on a lark, I asked my Hubby to pick up a TV Guide. You know those small magazines that list what is on TV each week and have wonderful crossword puzzles in the back? They aren't small any more. When did that happen? Yes, it has been quite a few...years... since I felt the need to purchase a TV Guide, but did they have to change so much?

Where is the information about the shows? Remember there used to be little blurbs to tell you a little about the show or movie so you could decide if you wanted to watch it or not? They aren't there any more either. Instead of blurbs there is just a list of the show, a time and that's it. I feel...taken. And not in a good way. In that, "You mean I had my Hubby pay our money for this?" way.

And it's big. Filled with articles. Like a magazine. I don't expect I'll purchase any more TV Guides. If I want to look up what is playing on TV I'll just keep doing like I am now by scanning the actual listings of the shows. At least they give you blurbs there.

The crossword section is still nice, though, but not worth $2.49 plus tax.

A Young Man's Power Wheelchair Gets Caught on the Grill of a Semi!

I had to re-read this story several times before I could actually believe it. What I simply am confused about is how the young man's wheelchair got entangled in the semi's grill? Did he turn too closely to the truck? Did he miscalculate and back up too far? I am just uncertain how something like this could happen. What is truly miraculous is that the fellow survived! These wheelchairs, these contraptions that give mobility challenged individuals like myself their freedom, are strong in some ways, but over-all they are fragile and delicate. To have an electric wheelchair stand up to this sort of treatment, especially 50 mph!, is simply a miracle.

Yep, Monday....

Last week was a semi-busy week. This week is a semi-lax week in some regards. At the same time, however, it is filled to the brim with things to do. Luckily, this time it is mostly projects I want to do, so, therefore I am looking forward to them. Except for today. Today was yucky.

Yesterday Hubby, KP and I ate at Chili's here in Lexington. I had an Old Timer, which was lauded as a tasty old fashioned burger with pickles, onion, tomato, lettuce and mustard. It came with fries. It sounded good. So, listening to my gall bladder because I want no more gall bladder attacks, I asked for mashed potatoes instead and the lettuce to be removed from said burger. Sounds like a simple request doesn't it. Nope. Not according to the kitchen, bless their little hearts. Instead of plain mashed spuds with a sprinkle of cheese I got something that looked inedible with tons of paprika smothered over it, and a very plain, dry burger. Even though I didn't send back the burger along with the mashed potatoes, somewhere in the back of my brain I knew I should have.

Needless to say the OT appointment was cancelled for today because I had a horrible headache last night and my stomach made certain to let me know food was not going to stay put. Plus, I ran a low grade fever for all of last night according to my watchful husband while I slept. For most of today I have had a low grade fever, nasty stomach, and just plain and simple yuck feelings. Thank God I am finally feeling better. My fever broke about four o'clock this afternoon. Since then I have only drank some water and some coffee.

Despite the yuck-o feelings I made sure to call in to Wheels so I could head out to the movies for a short time tomorrow. I have really been wanting to see Reign Over Me and saw it was playing at the $1 theater here in Lexington. A really fantastic thing about this cinema is that people in wheelchairs like myself get in for free, so instead of paying for admission I can get myself some popcorn and a drink. Since my stomach doesn't feel that great at the moment, popcorn sounds absolutely wonderful.

I'll let you know how the movie was by Wednesday if at all possible.

Tai Chi and Wedding Traditions, Somehow They Go Hand in Hand

Despite this being Saturday and my normal day for sleeping late, I was up early with KP and Hubby and heading to Georgetown for tai chi class. JustBill was not there, but class proceeded and more movements were added to the every growing repertoire for me.

Doing tai chi outside under a clear sky with the sun baking your body (I was very glad for the sunscreen KP had brought and the hat I had left in the van) helped to make me feel even better.

KP and I practiced more of 16 form, commonly referred to as "the short form" while the others practiced 103 form, or "long form." Although I am moving my upper body for the majority of it all I can tell a difference in the loosening of tight muscles in my back and great stretches for my arms and shoulders and even chest.

Suddenly, while doing the movements a wonderful peace settled over me. KP and Jaybird were there, two wonderful friends, and Hubby. My Hubby. My partner. We were finally doing something together we both could enjoy, and actually did enjoy. Once home we even talked about different moves and the new friends we were making in the tai chi class. JustBill had said last week that tai chi "was a way of life" and that "it should be used in every day living" but that really didn't make sense to me truly until this week when I was getting frustrated in writing and remembered yet another thing we had been told in class: So I distanced myself from the computer a couple of feet, sat in proper posture and breathed.

That's it. Just breathed. Slowly the frustration and annoyance I was feeling slipped away with each exhale and when I opened my eyes -- I had been unaware I had actually closed them -- the computer screen wasn't my enemy and the story wasn't a disaster in my head.

Another thing I did yesterday after just my first lesson in 16 form: I stretched my arms and shoulders slowly and carefully in "wave hand like clouds" move and felt the built up tension of pain leave a little at a time. The pain medicine is still needed, but the extra pain of tension may be something I can actually do without and keep from collecting. Will I ever be free of pain medication? I don't know, but I am unafraid to hope...now.

LadyD (finally have a nickname!) said she had discovered little things through her study of tai chi for herself. At the first class on Thursday I was expecting to learn little things about myself, but not quite so soon. I was definitely not prepared to "hope" in anything except for maybe trying to remember the movements. How much things are changing in this slowed down leaps-and-bounds of tai chi! She was there today, LadyD, and without fear or even warning I asked a question about a movement. Being comfortable with new people has always been hard for me, however, being comfortable with the tai chi group was almost a given from moment one!

Shocked? Amazed? Surprised? Oh yes! All of them and more!

I am hooked.

Although I wasn't planning on writing about tai chi today, I am quite glad I have because I love sharing the wonderful things I've found and discovered in this new life that is happening.

What was I going to write about? Wedding traditions. You can check them out here. I will also list a few of them throughout the upcoming weeks because some of them surprised me with their simplicity or where they came from, and, as always, made me think of something similarly related.

No post will be made tomorrow, probably, because it is Sunday. So, enjoy the weekend everyone. See you on Monday!

Perfume, by Patrick Suskind

I finished reading Perfume today by Peter Suskind.

This thing was creepy and downright surreal at the end.

At the end of the book the guy commits suicide by getting people to eat him alive.

Yeah, maybe I won't recommend this one so much.

And Life Progresses

The more this new life progresses, the more I am slowly beginning to realize that in order to have a life in this modern age and time you have to fight for the slow-down time, the quiet time to regroup and process what has gone on in the day.

Today was one of those regrouping days for me. Hubby went to his job (*happy dance of joy*) and I was left to my own endeavors and entertainments. Since my left leg is currently not happy being a part of my body, I let myself rest and relax and remain in the bed for quite a while. Normally this phase would have been looked upon with great joy and excitement. But this is not my "normal" any more and just laying there caused me much boredom so that when I did expel myself from the bed I was...happier.

Somewhere along the way I have become quite an active person. How it happened is quite easy to follow, realizing it has happened and how it helps to make me feel active and a part of life is harder to see -- although I do enjoy it. This enjoyment of it is quite a surprise on my part.

Once up and about I began my day and found writing to be quite an exhilarating event. The words progressed and the ending of the story came a little clearer into view. Of course, the ending I glimpse now can easily change. Writing is like that -- always changing -- so that when you think you have found the ending in reality you may have only found one of many possibilities of an ending. The central thread may be there, but other things change, grow, mature, or sometimes, which is much rarer for me these days, it becomes even more simple.

n though a great amount of writing and thinking was accomplished, there was also great moments of just sitting and reading. However, I didn't get to my knitting like I had hoped. The story I am currently reading, Perfume by Patrick Suskind was just too good to put down. A book like this one makes me remember why I love good stories. It is interesting, descriptive, and the story is spooky and creepy in all of the right places. Although you can pretty much guess what is going to happen, getting there is half the fun with this one. However, it is not for the squeamish or those who have problems with psychological thrillers. Perfume is both of these and something else, something I can't put my finger on descriptively.

So, instead of picking up my knitting needles I read. And I enjoyed my day without a husband under foot and, I am sure, he enjoyed being at work instead of at home. However, once he was home, the pace of life picked up considerably because we were heading to the Kentucky Horse Park for qigong and tai chi.

Doing tai chi (I missed the qigong section, but plan on making this up next week) outside under the shade of trees with horses and birds all about helped relax my very soul. Although I am doing tai chi in my wheelchair, there is still movement and I can also feel my energy rise and move with more fluidity than it has for quite a while.

Our instructor is a small woman with a soothing voice (haven't come up with a nickname for her just yet) patiently went over the beginning moves and answered the few questions we had -- there will probably be more as the class progresses -- and somehow this encouraged me.

JustBill said to "jump in the middle" and today it felt as if I really had done so. The acceptance of yesterday continued on through today with the tai chi. It was almost spiritual in its peace for me.

Now it is late and tomorrow is a PT day since I had another appointment and couldn't do pool Wednesday. Before that, however, is another day filled with writing. Somewhere in there, though, the knitting is going to be added.

Yes, down time is very important when life becomes so fast paced, especially when you aren't used to it. I don't want to burn myself out on this new life before it has completely born fruit. Some how I believe I am not going to "burn out" this time. Why? Maybe because I am older and don't feel so possessed to make the most out of it. Or maybe, for the first time, I can honestly say I am going to make the most out of it -- my way.

An Accepting Eye

Today was my OT/PT day at Cardinal Hill. OT Guy worked me pretty good in the upper body. There was even a nice sheen of perspiration to remind me I had a body and said body was moving. Luckily there wasn't any more pain than normal. This in and of itself is beyond wonderful - that I can work out my body and my pain level not increase so drastically I am ready to quit. OT Guy is pretty good about that, and he even warned me today to not over-do it. "You know your body better than anyone else," he said. I looked to Hubby and Hubby merely gave me a half smile of encouragement. That little half-smile means a lot to me and tells me a lot about how he is feeling and hoping good things for me.

See, Hubby pushes. He pushes hard. It isn't because he wants me to hurt more, but that he wants to see me improve and get stronger. However, being an exceptionally strong man himself he doesn't quite comprehend when I am doing my best and when I am over-doing it. I've tried to keep up with Hubby on more than one occasion, but this leads to extremely sore muscles and a lot of pain which causes me to be angry and feel horrible and bitch like...a bitch. This is one reason why I made the decision to step out and go to OT and PT because it wasn't worth my marriage and make me not like the man who truly is my best friend on a semi-continuous basis. So, when OT Guy said this relief flooded my entire being.

I don't mean just my physical being, nor my mental being, but my emotional being as well. Relief washed over and through me in a way I have not experienced for quite a while. A lot of pressure was taken from me while at the same time my own desire to increase the movement and do more grew. This time it grew within limits, and I knew I had the freedom to push myself and not disappoint someone rather than push myself and feel as if I was letting down the one person I love more than even I can express. (Why did I feel like this? Because I knew I could never accomplish what I thought was being asked of me.) It was a liberating moment. It was a liberating moment with a lot of meaning and possibility for the future laid out before me. It was also quite sobering. Why? Because today was a step taken toward regaining my independence on all its levels.

Yes, I know I have been going to OT/PT for a while now, but today everything clicked into place somewhere inside my head and heart. I was free to improve without setting too many limits on myself and I was also free to say, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that today." It was an odd feeling finally accepting inside myself that some days aren't going to be good days and some are going to be great ones. Usually the ups and downs of arthritic life plays havoc with my emotions and self-esteem. Today was yet another step toward moving forward in accepting my possibilities rather than just acknowledging my limitations.

So, while pondering these things deep inside and still working out, I took a serious look around me in the OT gym. There weren't many people there today working out, but it was still quite early in the morning. OT Guy and Hubby were some of the only people there who didn't have a physical problem readily visible.

Out in the hall heading toward PT it was quite easy to see all of the people who had "problems." There were people in wheelchairs, people on crutches, people on canes, people with walkers, and people attached to oxygen tanks. There were several who walked with a prosthetic leg. As they headed toward their destinations I slowed and took a closer look at them and the people who were there to help them improve and advance in their health and in their lives.

Everyone was smiling. Can you imagine that? Everyone was smiling? The people with problems, disabilities were smiling and relieved even though they were heading toward certain pains and yet they smiled. It wasn't only polite smiles we are all taught to give, but genuine smiles. Then I watched the therapists closely. They smiled, too. They listened, they chatted, and they encouraged as well as held back some who were, like me, used to pushing themselves too far and hurting themselves in the process. The therapists smiled genuine smiles, not only because it was their job to smile, but because they really and truly were hoping good things for those they worked with.

Even my very own OT Guy was smiling while helping me work out my schedule. PT Lady was smiling and encouraging and helping me to remember movements and pauses I had forgotten. Neither of them were disappointed in me despite them reminding me. At the same time they were reminding me of how much I had progressed in the time I had been there.

No matter the ability or inability to move or do something stopped anyone from patient to therapist. No one was looked on as odd or "different" and my heart beat just a little faster. My throat felt tight and I was afraid I was going to cry. It has been a long time since I have felt accepted. Suddenly who I am, with all of my physical problems -- I was normal. Really normal. It was humbling. And exciting.

There was a time when occupational therapy and physical therapy was really just something you did so you could move more like "normal" people or do things as closely as possible to what "normal" people did. A lot of pressure was placed on the person to change who they were so "normal" people would accept them more. So you could "fit in" more easily. When did it all change?

I'm not complaining. At. All. I am just stunned. Humbled. Encouraged. Hopeful. Having a place where you are accepted, no matter how different you are makes a huge difference in how you perceive the world's population, and the world itself. I was lucky. My family loved me, still does, and accepts me even though, on some occasions, I have not deserved their love and acceptance. I have even been blessed with a wonderful man who likewise loves, likes, and accepts me just as I am. And my friends, I couldn't have dreamed of better friends to have around me! But having an entire place, a physical place, where wheelchairs and all of the other movement aids are nothing but the norm let's a person like me breathe deeply and relax for a moment before heading back out into the world again with all of its lack of curb cuts and elevators that fit and their buttons easily used; or doors too heavy to open.

Sometimes you can't imagine how some of the more simple tasks are so difficult to accomplish or how little it would take to make them usable by everyone!

Today more than anything else, I permitted myself to be accepted and accepted everyone else around me.

Yes, I know I am going to have to go through more pain and more fears and this isn't the ending of anything -- merely the beginning. The thing that truly changed today was the pressures of being different eased and life looked as if it had become more manageable, or at the very least more accepting to my eyes. Today was a Good day.