Communication

When I was in grad school, the second time around, one of my courses was Research. Unlike many of my classmates, I actually enjoyed that class. 

Since I have been under orders to rest my voice, I have had to get creative with ways to make myself "heard." It has almost become a mini research project to see how different people react and interact with my different forms of communication. 

I have a text to speech program that works if there is not too much background noise. It can be configured to speak at different speeds, pitches, and accents. It sounds like a GPS voice. Some friends have been able to interact with it quite nicely, while others have difficulty hearing it. The makers of this program really need to add "Southern Drawl" as a choice of accent. 

I also have Ink Artist, a program that I use to draw things out that I might want to paint. Right now, it is doing double duty as a notepad that I can write messages on, and then erase them, saving reams of paper. Some of my friends prefer this one. This is also handy for writing my order on at a restaurant, or when I need to "talk" to a doctor. 

Friends and family who know me well can pretty much follow my gestures. I was always fairly good at charades and this skill is coming in handy.  I wonder how many calories frantic gesturing burns? 

Of course, there are a couple who simply don't want to be with me until I can actually speak. That is OK, too. It takes patience to have lunch with someone who can't communicate freely. It stings a bit, but I do get it. 

I think about people I know and know of who no longer have the power of speech. Some of them are able to use technology. Some are not. I honestly cannot imagine how I would feel if this were to be forever and these things became my only voice. 

Meanwhile, if anyone wants to have lunch with me and my electronic voice, let me know.
 

 

Tea Kettle

One of the first things that my speech therapist recommended to me was to drink Vocal Coat Throat Tea. I am not much of a hot beverage drinker, but, desperate to do anything and everything to regain my voice, I promptly bought the tea. 

I have read all the horror stories of heating water in the microwave and having cups explode. It has always made me a bit nervous. Unlike Captain Picard on Star Trek: TNG, I do not have access to a replicator to instantly make my cup of tea appear. I decided to purchase my very first whistling tea kettle.

I was quite surprised to find quite a lovely selection at our local kitchen outlet. I did not think that many people used tea kettles anymore. I promptly nabbed a cute, bright green number that promised to whistle at me ensuring I don't forget that I put it on to boil. Come now! I am quite sure that I am NOT the only person who puts things on the stove and then remembers something I must do in another room!

My tea kettle is more than just a tea kettle. It is tangible evidence that I am doing all I can to regain my lost voice. 



 

Once Upon a Time

I am not a huge TV watcher. Quite frankly, there has not been that much on that I have been interested in for years. I like Downton Abbey,  Glee,  Perception, The Middle, and Who Do You Think You Are?. I watch half an hour of local news, primarily to get the weather report. I do watch college football, and pro football when Peyton is playing. I become a champion couch potato when the Olympics are on.  My guilty pleasure is Dancing With The Stars. Having been born with two left feet, I have great admiration for non dancers who are brave enough to attempt to dance on national TV.

Because my husband likes to watch old movies, I subscribed to Netflix. While scrolling through the offerings one night, I came across Once Upon a Time. I have watched almost all of the first three seasons and I admit that I am hooked. I am a sucker for great costumes, scenery, cool effects, and fairytales. I love how the series goes back and forth between Storybrook and The Enchanted Forest. 

I have to admit that I did not recognize Robert Carlyle as Rumplestiltskin/Mr. Gold. I had not seen him since he played Gaz in The Full Monty. I had no idea of the range of his talent until now. Another revelation is Jennifer Morrison. Her role as Cameron, in House, didn't fully utilize her acting abilities. Colin O'Donoghue, as Captain Hook, is new to me, but quite talented and quite easy on the eyes. 

I have heard that the fourth season "jumped the shark" somewhat, but, I am probably going to have to watch anyway. 

I'm "Hooked."

Seven Weeks

Tomorrow marks seven weeks since I have been able to sing. It feels like forever. 

I  added two days of complete vocal rest to the doctor's order. I am being conservative with my speaking voice. No talking on the phone or straining. 

I think I see a bit of improvement in my speaking voice, but progress is excruciatingly slow. I am not sure if it is real or just wishful thinking.

I know that losing my voice, perhaps permanently, is not much compared to what many people are going through. I get that. I really do. On the surface, I am trying to be positive, support my friends who are struggling, and put on a happy face. But, when I am alone, I cry. I question. I despair. There is music I can't bear to listen to. Movies I can't bear to watch. Even worship brings the pain of not being able to sing the hymns that I love so dearly. 

I see my throat doctor on Tuesday. He will take a light and illuminate my vocal cords. 

I will find out if any healing has occurred. 

Please, God, let there be healing.

Dont Judge?

I see this a lot on Facebook. I'm watching _______ (insert reality show). Don't judge me! I'm eating _______ (insert unhealthy food). Don't judge me! I'm back with my abusive ex. Don't judge me!

I try very hard not to judge people I don't know. I certainly don't believe in judging people with disabilities, people of different races, people who are overweight or underweight, of a different faith, etc. 

I think it is normal to have those first impressions. To me, this is not judging. It is just an automatic thing. Of course, I am going to notice the color of a person's skin, what he or she is wearing, etc. Does she make eye contact? Does he shake my hand? Yes, these are things I am going to notice. 

However, I see judging as refusing to see past those initial things. Assuming everyone of a certain race or religion is automatically "bad." Assuming that an overweight person eats non-stop or that every thin person has an eating disorder, etc. 

But, is being disappointed in poor manners (in someone who has been taught better), judging? Is being concerned for that friend, who went back to a man who might very well kill her, judging? Is cringing at the thought of that brittle diabetic, (who has been in a coma) eating a large sized ice cream sundae with the works, judging? Is being sad at seeing your alcoholic relative enter a bar and start drinking, judging? 

I don't really have the answers.  




  

I Want to Live!

I first watched this movie 40 years ago with my mama when it came on TV late one night. With the amazing portrayal of convicted murderer, Barbara Graham, by Susan Hayward, the wrenching scenes where appeals were denied, and finally, the excruciatingly detailed final scene in the gas chamber, this movie burned itself into my brain. 

Recently, this movie came on TCM and I saw it for the first time since I was 15. I have a very good memory for detail, but even I was surprised at how accurate my 40 year old memory was of this movie. 

I have been following the case of Kelly Gissendaner in Georgia. She has been sentenced to death for conspiring to murder her husband. A horrible crime and certainly one she must pay for. Life in prison without hope of parole, for sure.

But, this woman, while on Death Row, has become a Christian, completed a certificate of theological studies program, and has truly transformed her life. She ministers to women who will get out of prison and is an example for the transformation that they can experience if they allow it. She has helped prevent women from committing suicide in prison. It just seems like she is much more valuable to the prison if she is allowed to live, to continue ministering and mentoring, and helping others turn their lives around. 

Kelly is proof of the transforming and redemptive grace of Jesus Christ. 

Let her live. 

 

Vocal Rest

 On Thursday, my throat doctor put me on vocal rest so that my severely inflamed right vocal cord can heal. I am not to speak AT ALL until at least Tuesday. If my voice is still raspy, or my throat hurts when I speak, I am to stay silent longer. 

Thanks to texting, social media, and email, it is actually not that difficult not to speak for a relatively short time. (Quit laughing!) But, after several days, this people person feels isolated and alone.  

Silence does make doing business in "real life" a bit challenging. Imagine the initial reaction if I slid a note to my bank teller! I can't order through a drive in window or at a counter. I have been going to places where I know the staff and can write down my order. I have a fairly complicated call from a doctor's office to return that, hopefully, can wait. I am supposed to pick up a compounded prescription from a local pharmacy. But, again, I am reluctant to hand them a note. 

Yes, I have a sweet husband who will do what he can for me, but I don't like being any more dependent than absolutely necessary. However, if I have to stay silent indefinitely in order to sing again, so be it. 

For now, cyber communication will have to do. 

 

 

Who Am I?

This is a question that I have been asking myself for the past 5 weeks. Acute bronchitis has robbed me of the thing I love most to do. It has been several years since I have been unable to sing for this long. 

Perhaps too much of my identity is wrapped up in my voice. As a teenager, my identity in my group of friends was that I was the singer. Donna was the artist, Becky, the brain, etc. I was the singer.

In college there was no doubt at all what my major would be. It was music, all the way. I soon found out that, although I had talent, I did not have the competitive fire needed to be a professional singer. Competitions involved some degree of sabotage, mind games, and some pure meanness that I just couldn't stomach. 

I married, came home to Vicksburg, and used my voice in church and community theater. I sing everywhere but in the shower. I sing in the car. I sing doing chores around the house. I sing to the radio at The Mosaic Shop while putting pieces of glass together. Best of all, I get to sing every Sunday at Hermanville United Methodist Church.

Now that I have been unable to do that for the past 5 weeks, I feel so bereft. Something vital is missing. I know that I have other talents and skills, but without singing, they lose much of their luster, being part of an incomplete package.

I have an appointment with an otolaryngologist (throat specialist) tomorrow in Jackson. I am hoping and praying that whatever is continuing to be wrong with my voice will heal. At this point, I can't even wrap my mind around anything else.



 

Wiping the Cup

I can sort fast food workers into 2 categories. Those that wipe off the cup, and those who don't. As a person who stops somewhere almost daily in search of a cold beverage, I always appreciate that person who takes an extra 3 seconds to present me with a drink that doesn't get all over my hands, clothes, or car. 

I usually get my drinks at the drive-thru window, so I don't always know my server. There are a few I recognize and I try to thank them for the extra effort. I like to think that they put extra effort into other areas of their lives as well. Those that are content to hand me a sloppy cup, with the lid not all the way on and dripping, make me wonder if this lack of attention to detail spills (pardon the pun) over to other areas of their lives as well. 

Over time, I have noticed that people who do their jobs well seem to be happier than those who don't seem to care about theirs. To some extent, doing a good job seems to be its own reward. I am not downplaying the importance of a proper paycheck, but doing good work gives a personal satisfaction that cannot really be bought. 

Just wipe the cup. 

You might be glad you did. 
 

Makeup!

I remember once, not too long after I married, my husband wanted to go somewhere on the spur of the moment. For some reason, I had not yet put on my makeup that day, but I gathered my purse and headed for the door. 

My husband looked at me in disbelief. "Are you going to go without MAKEUP??" I honestly didn't think he really noticed makeup, as I did not wear a whole lot and what I wore was pretty subtle. 

I was wrong.

There was a time when men would claim to want their wives, sisters, daughters, or girlfriends not to wear makeup. They would claim that we were 'pretty enough already', 'we didn't need that stuff', etc. 

But, propose to actually go out (WITH THEM) without makeup, and it was another story. Many men want us to look natural. They just have no idea how much time, effort, and money it takes to achieve that 'natural' look! 

There are women who are so gorgeous that they honestly don't need the tiniest bit of artifice. There are women who can go without makeup and feel totally comfortable. I am not either of these women. As I get older, getting a natural look becomes harder and harder. And more and more expensive! 

I find my ideal makeup at Sephora and Ulta. 

My husband pays the bills without a word. 

And I don't leave home without it. 

 

"Shall I Bring My Skates?"

Years before the likes of Christopher Bowman, Evgeny Plushenko, and Johnny Weir, there was Toller Cranston. The six time Canadian figure skating champion, 1974 world bronze medalist and 1976 Olympic bronze medalist passed away on January 24th at the age of 65.

Toller Cranston was way ahead of his figure skating time. Although not good at compulsory figures, he absolutely lit up the ice when it came time to perform. Toller was the first man to really break the 'mold' that was men's figure skating in the 70's. With his long hair, flamboyant costumes, lean, expressive body, and amazing Russian split jumps, he won the audience, if not always the competition. 

Toller was also quite a prolific artist and managed to pay for his skating (before sponsorships were allowed) with his art. He was also a writer and the title of this blog is taken from his book "When Hell Freezes Over, Shall I Bring My Skates?

Below is a clip of Toller Cranston being Toller and doing it quite brilliantly!

Rest in Peace you amazingly talented man. I have a feeling there is ice in Heaven as well.

Toller Cranston -"The Firebird" - 1983

http://youtu.be/7cf_zI9Xo9o

George Winston

Many years ago, my husband, Bill, was given the George Winston album, 'December', by his younger sister, Becky. It did not take long for it to become one of his all time favorites. I soon fell in love with it as well.

George Winston comes to Jackson to do benefit concerts and we have tried to get to one of them several times. But, the stars and planets never aligned. Bill couldn't get off work, or one of us was ill, etc. At some point, we just sort of gave up on the idea of ever hearing the talent of George Winston in person.

Then, a few days ago, one of my Facebook friends (thanks Carey!) posted a link to an upcoming benefit concert at Duling Hall, featuring none other than...George Winston! I quickly found how when and where the tickets would be on sale. Bill's 61st birthday is coming up on January 31st. This concert is going to be his birthday gift. Much better than last year, when he spent his 60th birthday getting me out of a nursing home! The concert is actually on February 9th, but the tickets will be in his birthday card. 

If you want to attend a wonderful concert at Duling Hall in Jackson and support the Hudspeth Center go here:

http://dulinghall.com/tickets.php

And to hear his gorgeous arrangement of 'Canon in D', check this out. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5OTH3mj2Q8

Lessons Learned in 2014

2014 has been a year for lessons. Most of them have not been particularly easy to learn, but I HAVE learned. Now, the trick is to REMEMBER what I have learned, and put this knowledge into use for 2015 and beyond.

1. Hip replacements are harder to recover from than I thought.

2. I hope God takes me home before I ever have to go into a nursing home. 

3. I can't function with constant noise. 

4. I need to be much more careful where I put my time and energy. 

5. I really CAN'T please everyone.

6. I need to make more decisions with my head than with my heart.

7. I spend too much time reading articles that all say the same thing. Unsubscribing is good.

8. I have got to set even better boundaries if I am to stay mentally and physically healthy.

 



 

Books I read in 2014

A few days ago, I received an email from Goodreads containing a link to a collage of the books that I had read this year. I was a bit dismayed to find that I had only ready 18 books! That may be an all time low for me.

I am blaming some of my lack of focus on "anesthesia brain" from multiple surgeries and tests requiring sedation. My attention span seems to be decreasing as I get older. I have read articles that blame this on things like Facebook and other social media. I don't think this is true. I am just interested in so many things that I tend to read more articles than books. I want to know what is going on in the world now. Not the soundbites that pass for TV news, but in-depth articles about current events. I like to keep up with what research is being done in psychological fields. I like to read about art. I like to read about religious and spiritual things.

My taste in reading has changed over the years. I no longer seem to have the patience to read the complicated fantasy stories that I once devoured. I still keep up with some series and writers, but I can't seem to get into new ones. I love to read biographies, memoirs and "behind the scenes" books. I have discovered some wonderful "young adult" writers such as John Green, Gayle Forman, and Lisa McMann. I wait, eagerly, sometimes years, for the latest Diana Galbaldon "Outlander" novel. And I will read ANYTHING written by Roland Merullo. 

I admit that there tend to be fewer books out there, in general, that I want to read. I find much of the writing in modern novels quite atrocious. I don't like excessive violence. I have enough trouble staying "up" without reading a lot of depressing things. I enjoy a plot that does not have as many holes as a Swiss cheese. And who on Earth edits books these days?

These are the books I HAVE read and enjoyed this year. 

Missing Parents

'Tis the season...to miss my parents. 

Tomorrow, my sweet father-in-law will have been gone 2 years. On the 15th, my Daddy will have been in Heaven for 3 years. And Christmas night, my mother will have been dead 24 years. My mother always hated the way people tiptoed around, saying the words "died" or "dead." She told me to say she DIED, not that she had "passed", "gone away", etc.

So often I hear adult "children" being just plain rude to their parents. Don't get me wrong, I was not always a paragon where mine were concerned. But, I can't imagine talking to mine (as a grownup) this way. By the way, I am not talking about parents who have been severely abusive, drug or alcohol addicted, neglectful, etc. I am talking about parents who were "there." Who sacrificed for their children and tried hard to be good parents.

Now that all my parent and in-laws are gone, I just want to shake these people (yes, I admit it, sometimes I want to do more than just shake them!!) and tell these "kids" how much they are going to regret some of the things they said and did to their parents when these parents are gone. I want to tell them to be kinder and treasure the time they still have left. We tend to think that our parents are going to be here forever, but my mom was only 57 when she died. Two years older than I am now. 

It also would not hurt for parents to refuse to allow themselves to be disrespected. There is a popular meme that states "If I had talked to my parents the way some kids do now, I would not be around to share this status." Whoever said this must have known my mama!

Disagree. Express feelings. But, do it with civility, kindness, and, if possible, love.

 



 



 

 

 

Tone

I admit it. I love the internet age of instant communication. I love being able to "talk" to several friends at once in every medium from text messaging, to email, to Facebook, and Facebook messenger. 

Writing what I am going to "say" makes me really LOOK at what I am saying (at least most of the time!) How can I use my words to convey my message as I actually mean it, without the recipient being able to read non-verbal cues, or hear my tone of voice?  

Unless the person with whom I am speaking is a really good (in real life) friend, those words are best chosen carefully. It is easy to come across in type as judgmental, disapproving, or too "preachy." If the reader "feels" these in the "tone" of the message, hurt feelings, sadness, and anger can be a result. I have inadvertently hurt feelings on Facebook, because I rely a lot on body language, tone, and facial expression, and those can't be "seen" in the written word. Especially the typed word. 

There are some things that just need to wait for a face to face meeting. If the plan is to have a serious confrontation about a serious topic, maybe it needs to wait. I have seen friendships dissolve on Facebook that might have endured had the conversations taken place in person. 

Take that extra second to read what you have typed BEFORE you hit "post" or "send." 

You might be glad you did. 



 

Opinions (Rant Alert)

Everyone has opinions. Everyone has the right to his or her own opinion. Everyone has the right to express his or her own opinion. It may not jive with my opinion, but I try very hard to "agree to disagree" as much as possible. I am not always successful, but I am trying harder each day. 

What is so wearing is when people are aware of my opinions on key subjects, but feel the need to constantly belittle my opinions or to change my mind. I listen to my inner voice. I pray. And I research issues on more than ONE news site. 

A sad thing is that people who constantly belittle the opinions of others, often don't even realize they are doing it. Some people live to argue. That is great if they can find someone who likes to argue as much as they do!

I am not that person. You don't have to agree with me, but, realize that most my key opinions are not likely to change, unless I find good reason to change them.

                                                           Please.


 

Reflections

I saw this on a Facebook friend's wall and appropriated it for use in this blog post. I don't think she will mind. :)

The first part of this quote is what I am really focused on at the moment. I have come a long way with the boundary setting. As I get older, my time and energy are getting more precious by the minute. 

The bottom line is that I need to find a couple of more things to drop from my schedule in order to make more time for things I really need to do for my health and new interests. And, of course, my sanity (no comments from the peanut gallery!).


Of course, I am not going to cut church. Hermanville UMC and the people there have become very precious to me. I need my time with fellow believers. I need the sermons, prayers, and songs. I need time to be with God in a sacred space. 

I am trying to hold on to singing at the nursing home. I am quite fond of my older friends and have made new ones there as well.

I want to continue with my art, especially on a personal level. I am having difficulty finding time to do "my" art and this is frustrating.  I hope to hold on to at least some of my Senior Center classes. I admit that the difficulty of trying to find lessons that will please the more experienced students while accommodating the newer ones or the ones with physical limitations is getting overwhelming. I have been teaching for 5 years now and I honestly never thought it would last this long!

But, I also need more time to go to the gym. I need some time to travel a bit and visit family. I want to get more involved in political and social causes. And, I simply need more rest. 

I plan to spend the next few weeks doing some soul searching and praying. Hopefully, by the first of the year, I will have a game plan for making 2015 what I need and want it to be. 







 

Reaping

I must admit that I truly believe that we reap what we sow. Some people call it Karma. Some people use the saying "What goes around, comes around." They all basically say the same thing. Believing this helps take away the sting of betrayal, hurt, etc. 

I try to sow good things: hope, love, peace, understanding, and joy. But, I am realizing that I need to be more choosy about who and what I nourish in the future. I want to nurture people who will pay it forward and nurture others, not take advantage of them. I want to support worthy causes that use the money for people and not administrative costs. 

However, sometimes sowing in what seems to be the "wrong" place, turns out for the good. It may cause needed changes to occur or  bring dark issues into the light. I believe that all things really do work together for good when done in the right spirit. 

Still, I will strive to invest more wisely in the future and reap good things.

 

The Party

It all started with a meme I shared on Facebook. It said: "This being an adult isn't working out for me. If you need me, I'll be in my blanket fort, coloring." 

Before I knew it, dozens of people has replied to my post and most of them wanted to join me in my blanket fort and color. So, as my 55th birthday approached, I began to concoct a plan. Why not have a party and combine it with a fundraiser for one of my favorite local charities, the Good Shepherd Community Center? 

Hawkins United Methodist Church was kind enough to donate their fellowship hall for the evening, and the plans began. A blanket fort was built. Cookies, brownies and door prizes were donated. I ordered pizza and brought soft drinks. I had spent the past 2 months buying crayons and colored pencils on sale and printing out coloring pages. Some colorful dominoes and checkers were provided for folks who did not want to color. Music was a collection of old TV theme songs. 

Dear friends helped with setting up, making sure people were fed, and cleaning up. "The Nana" sat at the front door in her wheelchair and made sure everyone ponied up a donation for the cause. One of the highlights of the evening was when my oldest guest, at 90+, crawled into the blanket fort. I want to be Miss Martha when I grow up! 

I had no idea how many people to expect. I put notices up in several places. There were several other more high profile events going on. Some of my friends were busy with health or personal crises. But, many of my favorite people, both friends and family came, and I was happy and thankful to see each one. 

By the end of the evening, we had raised $675.00 to help Good Shepherd continue to provide much needed programs to local families. 

I can't avoid growing old. But, I don't have to completely grow up. 

Yet. 

Double Nickles

Today has been such a lovely day! Up a bit too early at 5 AM, but I managed to begin answering birthday wishes on Facebook, get ready, gas up, buy a cake for our second Sunday brunch, and get to Hermanville by 8:15 to practice my solo before anyone else arrived. 

The congregation sang "Happy Birthday" to me. What a treat! And the excellent sermon by our pastor, Charles Pope, was another treat. 

My husband took me out to lunch and I got to see Peyton Manning play for a few minutes before heading off to Heritage House, where I sing for afternoon Sunday School class on the second Sundays of the month. I got to see some of my favorite fellow senior citizens. 

Then home to eat a second slice of cake. Hey, my birthday only comes once a year! 

It seems like forever since I have had a birthday that was this stress-free. Birthdays of the past few years have been spent with loved ones in hospitals or waiting for test results to see if cancer had returned or spread. I remember being so exhausted that I completely slept through one birthday when my Daddy was sick. 

I am always rather humbled by all the birthday wishes I receive on Facebook. I know they remind folks. Still, I am amazed at how many people take the time to wish me a happy birthday. 

One of the best things about turning 55? The discounts! My age now entitles me to some nice discounts at a lot of places. And, believe me, I am not so vain about my age that I won't be asking for them!

http://www.lifecarefunding.com/blog/senior-discounts/ 

Fifty-five and still alive and kicking!

 

Like Us

I have come across several articles lately regarding the fact that we tend to be attracted to and make friends with people like ourselves. I suppose, on some level, we tend to think that other people should be "like us." I find myself guilty of this more often than I would like to admit.

I have a wide circle of varied friends. They are not all "like me." I would not want them to be. 

However, there are some behaviors that I do not like in my friends or anyone else. Being honest, not just with me, but in their daily lives and businesses is important. Being courteous, (yes, even to family), is high on my list. I admit to not having much patience with people who are manipulative and deceptive. I don't particularly care to be friends with people who are just plain "ornery" as my late Dad used to put it. I am not talking about bad moods or reacting to stressful times. I am talking about people who stiff their waiter or waitress on a regular basis. People who physically harm other people or animals. People who live to argue 24 hours a day. I enjoy an occasional debate, but ALL THE TIME? No.

I am not perfect. I am not even close. But, as I become older, (and hopefully) wiser, I try to become more like the person I want to be. Often, that means surrounding myself with "good" people. 

Fortunately, there are plenty of them out there to learn from. 

Tagging Along

In a couple of days, I will be headed to this lovely place, Lake Barkley State Resort Park in Kentucky. My friend, Teresa, has traveled with me all over the place in the past for my events and meetings. Now it is my turn to tag along with her to a Fiber Fest. I don't do yarn, but this looks like a lovely place to just relax for the weekend. All my expenses are paid. My kind of trip!

I have not been any further than the Jackson area since May of 2013 and have not been anywhere during the Fall in years. I am knocking on wood, as I prepare to leave Thursday afternoon, that nothing will come up to make me have to cancel this much needed getaway. The past months have been difficult. My husband's lung cancer diagnosis and surgery, my own hip replacement, nursing home experience, and new health issues have worn me down physically and emotionally. I hope to recharge my batteries for the rest of what should prove to be an exciting October. 

Thanks, friend Teresa, for letting me tag along. 

My New Best Friend

I have a new best friend. It's name is Synthroid. 

For 20 years, my thyroid function was just over the line, and doctors would all assure me that there was no problem. I had many of the symptoms (weight gain, fatigue, puffy face, joint pain), but they could all be attributed to my other illnesses or medications. But, the possibility of thyroid problems was always in the back of my mind.


Like many other fat people, I have had people say things to me that were thoughtless and rude. I needed to exercise more! Stop eating out! Give up ________! Oh, and I have SUCH a pretty face! I have even had "friends" refuse dessert for me in a restaurant. I am fat, I MUST overeat, right? 

Not necessarily. Granted, I have been on doses of steroids that had me eating everything not nailed down. And, I confess to some degree of comfort eating in times of stress. But, I have never regularly eaten the quantities of food that some people believe. In fact, I am usually eating the smallest meal of just about anyone when I eat out or am at a gathering. 

As of today, I have lost 42 pounds. The last 12 have been in the two weeks I have been on Synthroid. I finally got to the right doctor and received the right diagnosis. Finally. I saw a photo of myself taken last week, and I almost cried. My face was "mine" again. Oval instead of round. My neck no longer looks so terribly thick. And, in a grouping of other people, while I still look heavy, I did not look so terribly out of proportion. 

I am beginning to feel like "me" again.

Fear

I used to be a fearful person. I was far too afraid of what others thought of me. I was afraid of trying new things. I was afraid to express my feelings. It was not a good place to be. 

Therapy and my faith helped me learn to deal with my fears. Some fear is normal and healthy. But, as I talk to people, read things on social media, and occasionally listen to the news, it seems that fear is taking over. 


Maybe I am just a "Cockeyed Optimist" as portrayed by Nellie Forbush in South Pacific. I have made a decision to do my best to take life one day at a time and to live it as fearlessly as possible. 

Don't get me wrong. I have money saved for a rainy day. I have emergency supplies that would get me through about a month. I am not going to deliberately put myself in harm's way. But, at my age and stage, I simply am not going to spend what time I have left in constant worry. And, if the worst should occur, I don't particularly want to be here if my family and friends are gone.

Since I was a small child, danger has loomed. I can remember tests of the Emergency Broadcast System that would scare me to death. I remember being scared of "The Russians" and the thought of war with them. My grandmother spent countless hours canning rice and beans back in the 1970's for the hard times that were certainly coming. 

I don't know what the future holds. I know that I might feel quite differently if I had children. I have been through tough economic times. We did without, but we made it through. I have been through unpleasant times, like the aftermath of Katrina, and made it through. I have seen good and bad government and made it through. Things have a way of balancing themselves over time. 

With all my heart, I believe the words to this precious hymn. 


Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.


T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.


Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.


The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
 

Another Day, Another Diagnosis

As expected, my new endocrinologist diagnosed me with adrenal insufficiency. My body simply is not making steroid and probably is not going to in the near future. So, I increase my Prednisone slightly and everything should be OK. Right?

Uh, no. In addition to the adrenal insufficiency, I have also been diagnosed with Hashimoto's Disease. This is not uncommon, especially for women my age, but treatment might be able to make a huge difference in how I feel. 

My doctor wants both of these on my Medic-Alert bracelet. The problem is, there is no more room on my (large) medic-alert bracelet. I don't think that it would be a good idea to take asthma, congenital myopathy, severe food allergies, or the fact that there is an epi-pen in my purse OFF of my current one. I guess I am going to have to get another medic-alert to wear along with this one. At least some more stylish ones are available these days. Sheesh!

If all goes well, I might be feeling better in a few months. That would be lovely.

Now to get on the medic-alert website and order my new bracelet. 

Amber Alert

Last night my iPhone went off with a shatteringly loud "emergency" sound. I have to admit, it scared me to death for a moment. 

It turned out to be an Amber Alert for a teenage girl who had been shot and abducted from the Jackson area. I know that there are legal guidelines for the timing of such things, but it seems like this case might have necessitated more expedient handling.

I belong to several groups on Facebook. On one of them was begun about the Amber Alert and the format going from text messages to this loud alarm. I posted that I was going to shut the alarm off for the night as there was little I could do for this child at the moment, except pray for her safe return. 

Whoa! I was not prepared to be blasted for a) shutting off the alarm until morning and b) *gasp* PRAYING for someone. 

I did not even respond to this. I follow several news sites closely and get Amber Alerts without the necessity of having my phone go off and startle me constantly. I don't live in Jackson. I was not planning on going out last night. I am disabled and there is little I could physically do in a situation except call 911. I am also a Christian and a great believer in the power of prayer. 

I will praying throughout the day for this child. If I am out and see anyone fitting her description, I would call the police at once. I will follow her story via the news outlets. 

I don't need to have a constant alarm going off to do all this. 

I am posting the link to the Amber Alert here.

http://www.msnewsnow.com/story/26416889/amber-alert-issued-for-teen-believed-to-be-shot-and-abducted?utm_content=bufferc4429&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer

8 Years

During the past couple of days, I decided to go back and scan through my blog entries. Until then, it really had not hit me that I have been blogging for 8 years. I honestly never thought it would last this long. 

There have been times when I have taken the title of my blog pretty literally. I have said what I really think about some issues. This has gotten me "defriended" by a couple of people over the years, but sometimes things just need to be said. Reading over changes in my life and friendships over the past few years put me in mind of this poem. Like the poem reflects, I have had friendships that meet all these categories. I have had to walk away from friendships for my own health and sanity. Sadly, this was not necessarily because of the friend, but constant drama in his or her family that I could no longer handle. I have had to step away from some friendships that strained or threatened my marriage. Sometimes, there is just not enough to hold a friendship together through physical distance. There have been a number of times when I have outlived my usefulness in a relationships and they gave ended. This hurts for a time. But, hurts heal. Fortunately, I have those "lifetime" friendships. The most priceless treasures on Earth.

Reason, Season, or Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each person.
When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.
Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
— Unknown

Limits

One thing I particularly love about watercolor is that it stays within its limits. If there is no water to carry the color, it stays within the limits set for it, most of the time, anyway.

It took me a long time and I still struggle to set limits in my life with other people. Most of my friends and acquaintances know that I am having multiple new medical issues on top of multiple existing medical issues. 




Right now, I am able to make my very basic obligations. Church, teaching at the Senior Center, singing at Heritage House, and encouraging friends are very high on my list. But, after I finish these things, I am absolutely exhausted and it can take several hours to recover enough to fold a load of laundry or heat up supper. 

September promises to be a sea of specialist appointments and tests. I have already had to cancel my first week of watercolor classes to be able to see these new doctors. When I am a new patient waiting for a specialty appointment, I take whatever I can get. I am desperately trying to get well enough to go on a long anticipated weekend trip in October with my best friend. I want to have a birthday party in October, that will double as a fundraiser for Good Shepherd Community Center. 

The rest of August and September need to be my time to work on my healing. 

Right now, I just don't feel like extensive visiting, doing special programs, going anywhere after dark, or even shopping. The rare bits of energy I have need to be going to the things that I feel called to do and to being with chosen friends who understand where my limits are and respect them. 

My 2 Cents

Like many people today, I am shocked and saddened by the death of Robin Williams. Yet another reminder of the realities of depression and the fact that this disease is no respecter of persons. 

I am a retired licensed professional counselor. At least 75% of the people who walked through my office door suffered from depression. Many of them had suffered in silence for years due to the stigma (which still exists to an alarming degree) associated with getting help. 

Here in the "Bible Belt" depression is often seen as a sign that the person is not close enough to God, is not praying hard enough, etc. This just adds to the guilt and shame that the clinically depressed are already feeling. No wonder suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in this country.

I am sure that I am not the only middle-aged woman who, upon admitting being depressed to a physician, has had her genuine physical ailments immediately dismissed as "stress". Prescriptions for Valium, etc are offered instead of investigating real causes of illness. I never answer the question on history of depression on a new doctor's questionnaire. When my body "broke down" at age 40, what two doctors dismissed as stress turned out to be a neuromuscular disease, sleep apnea, asthma, severe food allergies, and severe anemia. I thank God every day for the young doc at MEA in Clinton who cared enough to refer me to the right doctors and get me treated for these very real illnesses. 

I have been clinically depressed. I was able to ignore the well meaning friends who did not think I needed help and listen to the ones who thought I did. I found a good counselor and anti-depressant medication. I leaned (too heavily at times, God bless them) on my friends. And, eventually, I got better. 

Unfortunately, the stories of others don't end as well as mine did. 

May you find the peace in death that you could not find in life, Robin. 

 

 

 

 

Hearts

I have had tests done on my heart for years. Because of my family history, doctors tend to check my heart every few years, just in case. They have always come back clear and the problem has been something else. 

When Dr. Distante came in the room Tuesday, I was honestly expecting him to say, "Well, it's not your heart" and ship me back to Dr. LaTorre. 

I was a little taken aback when he told me that the tests had shown that there do appear to be some problems. 

My heart does not seem to be pumping quite enough blood and there is fluid around my it. I am scheduled for a heart cathererization on Friday to see if the other test results were correct and possibly fix problems.

I know that these procedures are routine and very low risk now, but I would be lying if I said that I was not a trifle nervous. I have tried to better my odds of heart problems (no smoking, taking my cholesterol meds, trying not too eat too many fried or greasy foods, and exercising as able with my myopathy) but, as the doc says, sometimes genetics just suck. 

Best case scenario is that whatever they find can be easily fixed and I will get some energy back. I have places to go, people to see, and things to do! As the meme says "Ain't Nobody Got Time for This!" 

I certainly don't!

Miss Mary

When I woke up this morning, it was raining. I had planned to go to the gym, but, just for a moment, I was SO tempted to just skip it. It would have been lovely just to sit down in my chair and play with my iPad. 

I quickly shook off that notion, put my clothes on, grabbed my umbrella, and headed off to Fitness Works. As I arrived, my friend, 94 year old Mary Clark was coming out of the gym. Yes, Miss Mary was out IN THE RAIN before 9 AM at the gym!

Miss Mary amazes me. Even at 94, she has never grown "old". She does not constantly harp on aches and pains. She does not constantly talk about "the good old days." She is lively and interested in other people and what is going on with THEM. I remember getting an invitation to the 90th birthday party that she threw for herself. She wanted to treat her family and friends rather than have them treat her. 

I want to be Miss Mary when I grow up. I want to stay interested. I don't want to waste my time complaining. I want to learn new things. I want to throw my own 90th birthday party!

And I want to still be going to the gym when I am 94! 



 

Saying Goodbye

Almost 25 years ago, I met Denny Allman, the priest at Christ Episcopal Church and his lovely wife, Norma. We met while playing in the local Vicksburg Theater Guild production of Camelot in 1989.

I was cast as Nimue, the nymph who comes to lure Merlin (played by Denny Allman) to her cave and eternal sleep, thus taking him away from his role as adviser to King Arthur. Every night, I climbed up a 14 foot platform, without my glasses, and trailing costume. Coming down was even harder. Denny stood by the ladder and helped me down after I had lured him away to "Follow Me." 

Norma, Denny's wife, was cast a Morgan le Fay, who dwelt in an invisible castle. By keeping Arthur away from Camelot for one night, Morgan allowed Guinevere and Lancelot to be caught together. Thus began the fall of Camelot. 


This was a behemoth of a production. There was such a long period between times when the chorus was needed that people had time to go to Daiquiri World and back. 

I am not kidding. 

Needless to say, there was also time to talk and make friends. While I made several, Denny and Norma became particularly special to me. The next year, after my mama died during the night, Denny was on my doorstep the on the morning of December 26th. Denny and Norma helped me through the severe depression I went through while dealing with my loss. More times than maybe even they know, they saved my life just by being the right people, at the right place, at the right time. They always had time for me. 

I was never a parishioner of Christ Episcopal, but Denny always treated me as if I was. He visited me when I was in the hospital, helped me through the loss of more loved ones, and cheered my successes. 

Denny and Norma are moving to Baton Rouge to be closer to biological family. But, no matter where they go, they will always be part of my chosen family. 

Social Media

Last night, my husband and I spent several hours watching a CNN series on the Sixties. As we watched through historical events from Kennedy's election, to Vietnam, to Freedom Summer, I saw footage of political figures that I had never seen before. I found it ironic, that in this age of social media, I am just now finding out about things from 50 years ago. 

It made me wonder how past presidents and other political figures would have fared had camera phones, Facebook, Twitter, and Vine been available back then. What if they had been caught in that split second before they could put hands over hearts for the pledge? Had photoshopped pictures made that totally distorted situations? What if misinformation could have been spread like wildfire at the click of a mouse? Presidents who have been considered some of the greatest in history have made some pretty big mistakes. ("Bay of Pigs", anyone?) Would their legacies have been the same had the public known about their mistakes instantly? 

Social media can be a wonderful thing. I love connecting with friends and family. I love discussing issues near to my heart in groups. I loved getting to see pictures of my dear friend's newborn granddaughter who was born on the 4th of July. But, I have to wonder if social media is playing a part in creating and maintaining divisions. Divisions between political parties. Divisions between religious denominations. Divisions between races. Yes, racial divides still exist, even today, sadly enough. 

Just for today, think about how social media can be used for good or for ill. Resolve to check out things that might be in doubt. Snopes.com is a good way to see if something is true or false. 

Check things out before passing them on.