"Alaskan husky"...seriously?! Ugh!

Merry Christmas!

Now, on to my rant for the day. The term “Alaskan Husky”. Yeah, NO SUCH THING!

Alaskan Malamute or Siberian Husky, but don’t show your idiocy in combining the terms and attempting to know what you are looking for. Those of us that actually own these dogs know you are a MORON. The Sibe is the Porche where the Malamute is more of a Bulldozer. Malamutes get GINORMOUS and a Sibe is considered a medium sized dog and should weigh between 35-70 pounds, where a Malamute can weigh up to 120+ pounds…it’s a small horse!

I was reading in a group on facebook that is local to where I live where people are looking to buy/sell/trade, etc. This woman posts that she is looking for the elusive “Alaskan Husky”. I responded, chiding her over the term and asked her to clarify exactly which breed of dog she was looking for and went on to post several links regarding Sibe behaviors, their temperaments, exercise level and the fact that they are freaking Houdini’s…all of them. Will she read them? Probably not. Will there be yet another Sibe taken into a home when it’s a cute and adorable puppy and then suddenly be rehomed possibly multiple times because the adult version and maintenance aren’t what they “expected”? More than likely.

I love our boys. I do, with everything in me. I sacrifice things that I would like for both our kids AND our dogs. They are EXTREMELY high maintenance! You’ll never own a piece of clothing again that doesn’t have dog hair on it and forget the furniture and your floors being clean while you own them. Be prepared to train them and CONSTANTLY reinforce your training. Forget having a garden of any sort because they like to dig…a LOT. You better have a fenced in yard as well and not a chain link or low fence because they will be GONE. You need at LEAST a 6 ft high fence and be prepared to do some maintenance on that as well because they will attempt to dig under, jump over or just chew through it. Reinforcing the fence and checking it weekly, if not daily, is so highly recommended. Don’t plan on walking them with just a leash on a collar, cause they’ll wiggle out before you can say “wha”….and they’re gone. A harness is wonderful and one that hooks in the front that if they start to pull, it forces them to one side or another, it’s a wonderful pull deterent…otherwise, you’ll WISH you had a sled…because otherwise it will be YOU lying on the ground being pulled behind your Sibe. Seriously, I’ve seen Tiberius drag kiddo across a concrete driveway and into the yard before I could utter the STOP command. Kiddo was okay minus a scraped chin and hands. She hasn’t asked to walk him since. But I love them.

And they are NOT guard dogs or fight dogs or aggressive (unless truly provoked or threatened). These dogs will be more apt to wag their tails happily as thieves steal your fine China. They are NOT one person dogs either. They are pack animals and their humans are their pack and they LOVE children. I think this is the one aspect of parenthood that I’m looking forward to. Having grandchildren over (one day…sometime in the next 15 years) and watching our boys talk with them. I cannot wait…well, I can…I can wait a lot longer…really.

My point is this: if you are thinking about getting a dog…do your research. Talk to owners, reputable breeders and if you really want the skinny on a dog…talk to people who rescue the specific breed you’re looking for. They will be an absolute treasure trove of information. 

Know when to hold 'em....Know when to fold 'em

This is not easy for me to put into words, on paper, and for others to read it. Yet, the torture of holding everything in is becoming quickly unbearable. Plus, I find it therapeutic to write and maybe, in a few days I can go back and read this and possibly find some kind of solution. Although, if I have yet to find one after three weeks, I don’t know how much good a couple more days is going to do.

I have often lamented the fact that Pat’s job takes him away from home far more than it keeps him here. I have also often been told that this is the life I chose and I need to suck it up. So, as I sit here in tears, I want to scream at certain people that this is NOT the life I chose. I did NOT choose to marry a man that I would only see for 18 months at a time (max) and then have to send him to some ungodly country overseas that is more third world than it isn’t. I did NOT choose to be married to someone that has forced me to learn the intricacies of all means of video chatting so that I could see the man that carries the other half of my heart! I most certainly did not CHOOSE to be alone, yet be married. I did not choose poor health, nor did I choose any of the other ill begotten things that have happened.

I may have the strength God gave me and the fortitude to push forward regardless of the situation, but the current situation has me torn in half and broken. And I had fooled myself into thinking that things were going to be okay. All it took was one phone call and two sentences to send my idyllic beliefs crashing into the abyss that’s just been waiting below.

I informed Pat of this last surgery scheduled the moment I learned. After talking to my surgeon and learning how much was going to be covered I was frightened. Up until that moment, I had never had a surgical procedure done that required me being under general anesthesia for longer than 90 minutes and that includes my weight loss surgery. This surgery was going to be a minimum of 90 minutes and could take up to 3 hours…turns out it took them almost 4 hours. At one point, I began to awaken during the procedure. Pat was in Hawaii…halfway home. I had asked him if he could possibly get home to help after surgery and even found a ticket for just a little more than $300. I was told that he couldn’t come home because he had work that needed to be done and it could only be done by him. I was fine with that…seriously.

Then, he gets to Hawaii, has dinner with some friends of his that were former CAV and somehow my surgery became the topic of conversation. In essence, these men (who don’t know me at all) looked Pat square in the eye and told him that he had his priorities screwed up, that he needed to be home with me, that he was not as important as he thinks he is and that he “wasn’t being CAV…he was being SHIT.” ONLY AFTER that conversation did I get an email asking him to book him on a flight home and me telling him that I couldn’t because that price was no longer good did he say to me what his friends said. I stopped cold in my tracks, held back the tears and said, “Wait. Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that you didn’t choose this on your own? It took two of your friends telling you that you were being an ass and to get your priorities straight before you decided that you needed to be here?” His answer was yes. I had to let him go.

Even now, I struggle with this. I alone was not enough for him to come home for. It was only because someone’s perspective of him was going to be ruined if he chose to NOT come home was the direct driving force behind his decision. Yes, I told him he was an ass. I told him he was a selfish, self righteous pig. I told him that the man I fell in love with was full of HONOR and INTEGRITY and even if it went against the grain, HE ALWAYS DID THE RIGHT THING and that I did not know the man I was meeting now, he was not the man I married.

Our marriage is on the verge of ending. I don’t know how to save it. You can only spend so much time apart before you no longer know the person you are married to. Only so much time you can delude yourself into thinking you are still married to the same person you fell in love with. The fact is, there are not enough hours in the day to spend video chatting with someone. The less time you spend together, the less you know about the person. I have offered a couple different times to fly to him, for me to fly to Dhaka and spend a few weeks in an attempt to reconnect. What I’ve been met with is “Let me check the calendar and my schedule and I’ll see what works.” Yet again, I’m TRYING and I get shoved back.

I get it. I can make all the concessions in the world for you and I don’t so much as get a consideration. I get the message loud and clear. As of this moment, there is nothing left to fight for.

The only thing I can do is allow myself and my daughter to grieve and we’ll make the rest of the decisions when he can find the time to do so.

The power of a single prayer.

I am absolutely horrible about updating my blog. It’s part of my amazing ability to procrastinate until my feelings become so overwhelmed that I must sit down and write…something. This would also explain why on some posts it becomes disjointed at times until I can edit, or not, and try to convey a particular mindset. Today, I am simply overwhelmed with feelings of sadness, loneliness and joy, all combined. I feel them all with every passing second. That alone is sending a million thoughts racing through my head and it’s becoming difficult to just grasp one of them. I am sure that by the end of today, I will be in tears simply because I won’t know of any other way to release the feelings.

Not that crying is a bad thing for one to do. It’s just rare from me, or at least it used to be. Now it’s the so called norm. Granted, I have watched countless videos this morning that have left me in tears because of the depth of emotion it has stirred in my soul, but I cannot blame the videos for the feelings I have. One video in particular made me watch in horror and then, in a split second, I was crying tears of happiness. A woman, pulled from her car that had sank in a torrential rain, yet when the car was pulled from the water every single window was up, just as they had been when the car sank. I, through my faith alone, know with every fiber of my being that God himself was there in that horrendous moment. He is the one that brought angels, in the form of good Samaritans, to rescue this woman. It was not her time to leave this earth that day. Plain and simple. It brought me back to an incident that I went through this weekend.

I have shared this with only a couple of people. My life was spared and I know that whatever my mission in life is, it has not been completed yet. The day was a normal one, in the sense that nothing out of the order had happened. I kept procrastinating about going to a particular store because I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of weekend traffic in North Austin. Finally, I determined that I could no longer put off what I needed to do. I exited from the interstate and made the turn to go in the back way to the store, noticing flashing lights at the top of the hill at the entrance to the back way. I made a turn into the center lane and turned into a shopping center so that I could make my way to the regular entrance. I had no issues and was surprised to get in and out of the store in a relatively short amount of time…when one is surrounded by people shopping for the upcoming holidays. I ended up being in the store for about 30 minutes.

Having once worked emergency services, I knew I was taking a chance with exiting out the way I had hoped to come in. A wrecker was on scene and there were less emergency vehicles, so I was completely okay with waiting for the Officer directing traffic to motion for us to move through. When I pulled out and around the accident, there was another police officer behind me. I’m sure he had fulfilled his duties on scene and I said a silent Thank You for whatever work he had completed. As I was coming up to the green traffic light, doing the posted speed limit of 45, I notice a vehicle headed the opposite direction. Since I had the green light, like any other driver, I was still driving the speed limit and about to cross into the intersection. It was at THAT moment I realized the other driver was doing a much faster speed than I and they were turning across my path, going against the red signal in the turn lane.

You hear the expression that some say, the one about how their lives flashed before their eyes? I now understand that. In a split second, everything in my life flashed before me. My second thought was that this was going to hurt. *Quick side note* I have taken countless defensive driving courses throughout my life. I know how to avoid accidents when possible, how to handle a skid in both wet and snow conditions. I’ve nurtured those lessons and know that most accidents can be avoided, not all, but most. – I knew that if I did NOT turn my car to the left that we WOULD hit head on. I slammed on the brakes, the ABS kicked in and I jerked the steering wheel as hard as I could to my left, praying silently that I could avoid this and that there would be no phone calls made to my family members. As my SUV made that sudden sharp left turn at approximately 45 miles per hour, I felt a sensation in a vehicle I have never felt before and one I hope to never experience again. I felt the passenger side of our Traverse begin to LIFT away from the road. Determined to do anything I could and quickly resigning myself to the fact that I was about to experience a roll-over, I let off the brake, grasped the steering wheel tighter and simply prayed, “Please God. Not today. Not this way. I have a daughter that needs me. Don’t let my husband get THAT phone call.” I knew that even if I rolled, I would still stand a better chance of survival, than if I had hit the other vehicle head on.

This is where I know I was not alone in my vehicle. It stayed upright. The police officer behind me, who witnessed the entire scene that felt like an eternity, but in reality was maybe 10-15 seconds in its entirety, when my car came to a stop he rushed up to check on me, to make sure that I was okay even though there was “accident” scene. I never took my hands off the steering wheel. I would have lost it if I did. I assured him that I was okay. Shook up and I knew I’d be sore from the seat belt locking, but I was okay. I just needed to pull off the road and collect myself. I was told by the officer that he witnessed my SUV lift off the ground and then he said just as quickly he watched it set back down. How he had NO plausible explanation for what he saw, how he had seen smaller SUV’s just continue with the momentum they had and that, in reality, my car SHOULD have rolled. He’s right. It should have. But, while I felt the car lift up, in the next moment, I felt this massive weight on the right side of the Traverse and THAT is when it set itself back down. As I screamed that prayer in my head…that is when my SUV…just…set down.

I’m positive that I experienced a true Divine Intervention. There IS no other way to explain between what SHOULD have happened and what DID happen. I have my faith, I know that God is real, that Angels are real and I know that there ARE answered prayers. I couldn’t speak much to the officer. I was concentrating on not going into shock. Calming myself down. And then, just as suddenly, I WAS calm and I felt a presence with me. I came home and I’ve just marinated in the events of this weekend, letting the emotions wash through me and just being eternally grateful that my life was spared. I did jokingly say that if a human’s life is measured in cats’ nine lives, I had run through 7 of them in that one incident. That is how I deal with horrendous incidents…dark humor.

So, whatever I need to do in this life, it is not completed yet. I still have work to do here. I have just one more story to add to my testimony about the unfailing love and grace of God in my life. 

How my dogs have taught me to be happy

I had a rough day yesterday, as evidenced by the blog posting. Today, though, is a new day that is ready for the taking. Which reminds me that I not only should take something from the day, but I should also give something. A hug, words of encouragement, a laugh. Something to make someone else have a good thing in their day, even if it’s not the best day for them either.

My dogs serve as constant reminders that the little things are what is most important in this life. It isn’t money, fame, nice things or whatever else. Yes, money can buy things that can make you happy, but it doesn’t actually result in happiness from within. Let’s talk about Ash for a moment and I’ll prove my point.

Ash is the first Siberian Husky that we rescued. Now when I say that we rescued him, I mean that we gave him a home and we found him from a wonderful Siberian Husky rescue group in Tennessee. I called and ended up talking Husky stuff with a woman named Shana. We agreed that I could come down and see him and bring my other Sibe, Tiberius, with me. I knew that as much as I had fallen in love with Ash just from his picture, that if him and Tiberius didn’t get along, we could never give him the home he so deserved. Within the week I was making a three hour drive one way to go see Ash.

He was beautiful. Scared to death, scarred by abuse and he shook like a leaf. Shana had to pull him out of the crate that he was in so that we could try to pet him. After a little bit, we decided to introduce Ash and Tiberius, in a more neutral setting. Outside…where there were no crates, no other dogs and it was a territory that neither one of them could claim as their own. I almost did a backflip. You would have thought that the two of them came from the same litter they got along so well. We then took them inside where they proceeded to run, play and romp like puppies. I filled out the paperwork, signed the agreement about having him neutered, microchipped and acknowledgement that if for whatever reason we were unable to care for him, that we would contact them and return him until such time that we could bring him back or have him rehomed if the circumstances were critical.

That was almost three years ago. I have had the absolute pleasure watching Ash learn how to be a dog, and more importantly, how to trust. It’s been a long journey, but he has made such a turn around! He still sometimes hides if someone comes into the home that he hasn’t met before, but he will now approach them and at least sniff and possibly allow them to pet him before he decides if he’s going to hide, lie down somewhere or follow them around cause they are his new friend. He found his voice and uses it daily now, where at first he would cower in fear that he was going to be hit when he first started making sounds around us. So, every time he would make a sound, we began to praise him and make a big deal out of it, loving on him and trying to get him to do it again. It worked. He has the deepest voice and I now lovingly call him my grumpy old man when he talks to us. He still wants to be petted and loved on when he talks and we are more than happy to do it.

He is hilarious! We can walk somewhere near him, say “Yay!” and raise our arms up and he immediately jumps up, runs to us and jumps with his front paws out in a similar pose and smiles. He’ll even talk when he lands back on the floor…which starts the process all over again. He pants and he smiles and he turns in circles and he makes me laugh. My husband has a game called “Monster” that he plays and Ash LOVES it. His daddy will grab a blanket, run down the hallway, hide in a corner and cover himself with the blanket. He will then raise his arms up and make ghost sounds while shuffling down the hallway…and Ash runs at him, jumps up on him and tries to pull the blanket from him…all while talking in his deep voice as if saying, “Hey! Let my daddy out of there!” Pat also plays “Monkey” with him, where he will get on his knees in the floor and raise up and start making orangutan noises and beating his chest. Ash will jump all around him, talking and then nip at his ankles or his back and sometimes his arm, but he never ever bites down to hurt him. And if he does accidentally do something to you that hurts and you say, “ow”, then he immediately stops and will lick you. It’s his way of apologizing…and it’s adorable.

However; the most adorable of all is his love of squeaky toys. I don’t care what it is, if it has a squeaker inside it, it is Ash’s. Every time we get paid, I will buy three new toys that squeak and bring them home for him. I’ll remove the tags and give it one squeeze and you can hear his heavy paws running from wherever so he can get to me. I give him one at a time and the others don’t get introduced until he has killed the other one. That first toy is usually all squeaked out within five minutes. He will gingerly take it in his mouth, turn around, run to hide and you can hear that toy squeaking with everything it’s got! Ash will carry it around with him to different parts of the house and squeak there. If it’s dinner time or potty time…that toy goes with him everywhere…and if one of the other dogs tries to take it, he will growl at them…he never fights over it, but he will growl…and that’s usually enough. And I laugh and giggle every single time. He LOVES the squeaky toys. I’ve been told it’s a waste of money and my husband and I counter that it most definitely is NOT a waste of money. It makes Ash happy…and since he is our happy boy that likes to share his happys with everyone…we’ll buy stock in the squeaky toy company for the rest of his happy life here.

It’s the little things. A dogs grin, their unconditional love and how they love certain things that have absolutely no value to anyone else…but it makes them happy. And that makes me happy.

And THAT is all the difference in this life.

Be happy!

Even the strongest need rest.

As I sit here and wipe the tears from my eyes, I wonder when I truly began to shut the world out, and to constantly protect myself. And then I realize, that I have always done so, since a child. I didn’t want to be hurt, I didn’t want to feel, I didn’t want anything…including living my life. Most important at that point and still today…I just don’t want to FEEL.

It’s extremely difficult to put into words exactly what I mean by that. I carry so much, all the time, and then I have those days where everything will put me in tears. Because it’s exhausting carrying it all, every second…of every day. Today is that day. Today is when I just want to be left alone, to just lick the wounds, pull away and just breathe, waiting for night to fall, so I can go to sleep and leave today behind.

A single tear runs down,

Thoughts race…

Everything,

Nothing,

Pain…

A crushing existence,

Shouldering everything,

Sharing nothing.

Caring too much,

Yet hated,

So much more than she can ever care.

Pointless worry,

Unable to stop.

Unable to breathe,

Keep the armor on,

Words as weapons,

Always ready,

Battle never stops.

Her own demons hiding…

Waiting for that moment…

Weakness.

Like a Spartan warrior,

Hunker down, shield up,

Wait for the onslaught,

Resting only briefly.

The next battle begins.

-          D. Bunch

Prepare for the worst. Hope for the best. Know that God has your back through it all.

This past week has been one where I have been given the opportunity to use the patience and strength that I have prayed for many times in my life. If it wasn’t for a wise friend of mine that taught me how to change my prayers to avoid the difficulties I seemed to always be facing, I would still be wondering why things seemed to be so hard. I’m not saying that there are no difficulties in my life. I’m simply saying that I listened and applied the advice I was given to stop praying for patience, instead, pray for wisdom to understand.

Pray for wisdom in all things is what I prayed for and the prayer has been answered. To understand that my prayer was answered took me a while, but I did finally see that the difficulties never stopped but how I approached and looked at the difficulties changed. I became wise to the situations I found myself in and was able to figure out that the same things I seemed to always be fighting against were created because I hadn’t figured out how to not put myself in the position in the first place. I still work on this today and I’ll probably be working on it until the day I die. Lynn, thank you for guiding me in so many things that you probably don’t realize what you’ve done for me.

Since we moved to Texas and were assigned to our doctors I have had many opportunities to get to know my physician personally. That isn’t to say that I see him in social settings, but I know him personally through his profession. He is an amazing physician with the most personable manner. He is soft spoken and is not afraid to say that he doesn’t know the answer to something when he encounters an issue that he has not dealt with. Usually, by the time we’re done, he has been able to add a new problem to the list of things he has encountered and that he was able to find an answer by doing some research and talking to other physicians. Trust me, him and I have dealt with many, many things that he has never encountered…until taking me on as a patient.

This past Wednesday, I made an appointment to talk to him about some medications that I am currently on, the side effects I have noticed and to just mention in passing about some pain I have experienced. I also made an appointment for him to see my daughter and discuss some issues she is having and to see if we could start a particular course of treatment. Everything went well until I talked to him about the pain. Not that the pain wasn’t something I could deal with, but the location concerned him because it was in my right breast. Apparently, one should not have pain in their breast unless there is a reason for it medically, i.e. surgery, injury, etc. He said we needed to do a breast exam and I agreed albeit grudgingly. The exam was unremarkable minus some fibrous tissue he could palpate (feel) which is expected to occur as we age. At the completion of the exam he said he would also send me for a screening mammogram just as a precaution. Before I left the office the mammogram was scheduled for Friday and away we went.

Friday morning comes and I arrive at the hospital for the screening, get checked in and start reading the book I brought with me. I know that since I am at the hospital, regardless of the fact that I have an appointment time, things sometime happen that can cause a delay. The technician comes to get me and take me to the diagnostic area where I fill out the paperwork they require from me. I do as I’m instructed and she begins taking the pictures she needs. After the pictures are done, she checks the images and excuses herself from the room. When she returns I’m told that the doctor viewing the images wants new images taken. We finish those and she excuses herself from the room once more. This time when she returns she says that we’re going to take two more pictures that will give the doctor a closer shot to look at. She leaves one last time and this time when she comes back I’m told that I’ll be going to ultrasound and that the doctor wants to speak to me before leaving.

I was a little concerned, but since I’ve not done this before, I just assumed that this was part of the screening process. Take images and get an ultrasound for future references so they have a base knowledge of what my normal is. I meet the ultrasound technician who proceeds to say to me, “We’re going to get a closer look at the spot the doctor saw on the mammography images.”

Hold on…back up a moment…this isn’t a normal procedure then?! I had a minor freak out moment, but calmed myself down by saying that they are only looking at this closer. It’s probably nothing and yes, this is normal if they see something on the images. Then this technician leaves the room to go speak with the doctor. Upon her return, the lovely doctor is with her, and she confirms that the area found on the ultrasound is the same area on the images from the mammogram. When the technician leaves the room this time, the doctor remains and says she needs to speak to me.

So, here I am. I’m cold, I’m wearing a gown that opens in the front so they can get access to the areas they need, I feel like I’ve been violated and now there is something the physician needs to talk to me about. She did allow me to put my shirt on over the gown so that I felt somewhat prepared to interact with her. I’m told that they saw something on the mammogram and the ultrasound confirmed that it is a mass. She explains about the biopsy procedure they need to do and wants my permission to proceed. Knowing that my husband would have a royal fit if I deny, and really, I need to know what this is as well, I give my permission to do the biopsy. They performed an ultrasound guided biopsy and took three samples to send to the lab. I checked the little box that said I didn’t care if it was a janitor that called me with the results, I wanted to know via phone as soon as they get the report from the lab. I do not want to go in and talk to someone. I want a phone call. I don’t even care if the report comes through at midnight, I want someone to call me immediately. I’m given discharge instructions to not lift, push, pull, tug or drag for 72 hours and then I go home.

Home is where I am now. I have spent the last 48 hours praying, crying, laughing and preparing for worst case scenario while hoping for best case. I made a phone call to my husband who is overseas. Actually, I called him before they did the biopsy to let him know what was going on. I was alone and I needed to hear his voice to just settle my nerves somewhat. I called my two best friends and told them what had happened. 24 hours later, I posted on social media and my friends rallied. It gave me such great hope to know that I didn’t even have results and my friends were manning battle stations. The hospital staff gave me a magazine that had a ton of information on head wraps, hats, wigs, breast prosthetics, etc. I left it there because if I brought it home it makes things real and I don’t want to deal with real unless I have to.

So, for today…I am alive. I am well. I know that God is preparing me for something in my life. I also know that God will be with me through it all, whatever the all ends up being. For now, I smile and accept life for what it is and what it is not. 

Love, sadness and being grateful

Life is a journey that can be long or short, it’s about the perspective you have about it. Sometimes, people don’t live as long as what we would like them to and we lament their passing. Usually, after some time has passed, we are able to look back on the time that we were blessed to spend with them and in those moments of reflection, we sometimes see that their time here on this earth was only short to us. At least in the reflections I have done recently, that is the case. Today, my emotions are fraught with sadness, gratefulness and love. So, I figured this was probably a good time for me to sit down and put some things to paper that probably should have been done a long time ago.

My life today is a blessed one. I am blessed with amazing friends that are scattered all across the globe. I have one child with some special needs, that is an adult now, and who has far exceeded any of my expectations. She doesn’t talk to me and has made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me. There is a lot more behind the scenes stuff, but I feel angry, bitter, sad and happy where she is concerned. My hope is that one day we can at least be on speaking terms. For now, it is what it is. My youngest daughter has her own issues, but she is a great kid. She wears her heart on her sleeve and is super quick to jump to a defensive position for others that are being treated unfairly or unjust. I have two stepdaughters who have been raised in a way that is FAR different than I have raised my own. They’ll have hard lessons to learn and our hope is that one day, they’ll see the truth and see how things really are compared to how they’ve been told they are. We’ve seen one make that turn after having to learn an extremely hard lesson. Our other hope is that the other one won’t have to walk the same sort of path to learn the truth. The only wish that we have for each of them, regardless whether we talk to them regularly or not, is that they all have happiness, success and love in their lives. I think that is the primary goal most parents have.

I’ve discussed previously about the abuses I have suffered and survived. Survived is the key word. It took me a great many years and many hard lessons learned to show me that my happiness is for me to find and it should not hinge upon another living being. I learned and applied that to my life shortly before I met Pat. People have asked how we met and I make no secret that it started with a conversation online. We were friends long before we began “dating”. Although our kids had us labeled way before we ever got to that point. I think that’s one of the reasons we work so well together. We have a firm foundation that we built our lives together on. I miss him every day, even on the days when he is stateside and just at the office. I’ve commented before that I don’t necessarily need him in my life, but I choose each morning that I wake up to want him in my life. And every day, I love him more than I did the day before. I’m so blessed to have a partner that understands how relationships should be and he works with me to nurture and cultivate what we have. Because it wasn’t always so for either of us.

We both have previous spouses (spousi?) and both of our prior marriages ended on a sour note (and I’m being nice). Arguments were more common than laughter. There was a lot of alone time. Our children witnessed things that they shouldn’t have. Life was not fun and it was not happy. The only bright spot we had were our children. We’ve both decided that it does neither of us any good to speak ill of our former spouses. All it serves is to allow them rent free space in our heads, which gives them control over our lives. So we kicked them out. Oh, sure…I could go on for days on end about the atrocities perpetuated by the other parties…I could, but I am choosing not to. The experiences that we had with our previous marriages set the stage for what we wouldn’t tolerate in the future. For those reasons, I can sit here and say that I can only think of 3 arguments that we’ve ever had. Even now when I think about those times, I wouldn’t undo any of them, because we learned something and then formed a plan on how we would move forward and prevent it in the future. So, even though we have both been divorced, I can’t say that the lessons we took away from the experience has caused us to become bitter about relationships. Cautious? Oh, yes…absolutely!

For me, the other life experience that forced me to learn a hard lesson, was the death of my fiancé, James. I was extremely protective of the girls after my divorce from their father and it was with a large amount of trepidation that I finally introduced James to them. It was a hit from the moment they all met. He was putty in their little hands and he would have killed for them. It made it a lot easier for me to let my walls down to see the unabashed love they all had for each other. My youngest would call him Queen Daddy James…because momma was a queen and she was a princess, so since she was surrounded by women…she didn’t know there was a King to speak of…so I was Queen momma and he was Queen daddy. It made sense in the eyes of a 3 year old. He moved us in with him and while the quarters were tight, we were all together and that is what mattered. That was in February 2003. James taught us how to love life again after something bad happens. We would laugh and play as a family. He taught me how to ride a motorcycle and then we would ride as a family. Life was pretty close to perfect.

Then life happened.

I had left the town we lived in on Saturday morning heading to my hometown to pick up some items. About a half hour after dropping James off to pick up the motorcycle, I had to pull off the road and get sick. I felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer and slammed it straight down on the top of my skull. I got sick to my stomach, but finished the drive down. I hadn’t been in my hometown for 3 hours when the uneasiness and the feeling that something was wrong finally reached a point that I couldn’t ignore any longer, so I left. I kept calling his cell phone, but it was going straight to voice mail. I didn’t think anything of it, that’s why he took the bike out, he was heading to the cell provider to find out why his phone wasn’t working right. His mom and sister were out of town as well, so I knew I wouldn’t get them either. When I arrived at our house, I found a note written hastily on the back of a receipt that said, “Dee, James was in a motorcycle accident. He’s at University of Louisville hospital.” I had to read that three times before it hit me exactly what it said. I swapped vehicles and got to where he was. When I walked in, his sister ran up to me and said that he’d been asking for me since he got there. The nurse came and got me and took me to the room he was in in their emergency department. My knees almost buckled when I saw him. He had a 19 cm laceration on his scalp, his wrist was shattered and he had broken his back. He was wearing his helmet when the driver hit him almost head on and the impact was so great that it broke the strap which then exposed his head. He was hit at 8:30 that morning…approximately 30 minutes after I dropped him off to get the bike…the same time that I felt like someone had hit me in the head with a sledgehammer and I had to pull off the road to get sick. Coincidence? I don’t believe in them. He underwent surgery to repair his wrist and was then taken to ICU. He talked for three days and then slipped into a coma. James died on 4 September 2003, 20 days after the accident.

I’m told that I helped plan the funeral. I’m told I rode his other motorcycle with his club to the funeral home. I’m told that I interacted and spoke with people. I’m told a lot of things about that time. I remember things being fuzzy. Like life had all of a sudden just became nothing but white noise. I was on auto-pilot. What I do remember is holding his hand when he took his last breath, I remember watching his heart rate drop to 20 and then 0, I remember feeling his soul leave his body and it was hauntingly beautiful. I remember being led out of the room when they started CPR, I remember watching their efforts and it being all for naught. I remember hearing all the blood rushing through my ears and turning to walk out to the lobby where I could see my mom standing. I remember making it halfway past the elevators and my world crashing down upon my shoulders, my legs buckled and I fell to my knees crying. I was so empty, so numb. It felt like the universe had just kicked me as hard as it could in my gut and while I was bent over gasping, it reached in and pulled everything inside of me out, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. My mother says she held me and rocked me. I don’t know. I don’t remember. I know I drove home, but I can’t tell you how I got there.

14 months later, I met Pat and we became friends. I had a tattoo of James on my arm and I would rely upon people’s reaction to it to show me if we were going to be friends, enemies or acquaintances. I knew that things with Pat were progressing after about 18 months when he held my arm one day and just ran his hand over his tattoo. I remember asking him what he was doing and saying that some people had said the tattoo intimidated them in a way. It was what Pat said then, that I said to myself “I’m going to marry him one day.” Pat stood and said quietly, “It doesn’t frighten or intimidate me. It gives me hope. Hope that a person can love again even after a sudden and severe loss and the pain associated with it.” We married three years later after his return from Afghanistan. I knew then that I could make the relationship work even in his absence, because I had survived having to bury one, knowing that I would never again see them. The deployment is almost easy after something like that.

It’s been 10 years since I lost James and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t still think of him. I also thank him, in a strange way, because I know that if it wasn’t for him that I would never have met Pat.

It’s strange how life happens sometimes. I still mourn for James, but I’ve let him go because it wasn’t fair to myself to hold onto him in death. I learned that I can continue moving forward after such a loss. I learned that laughter may not heal the wound, but it takes your mind off of things. I learned that friends turn into family when you need them the most. I learned exactly what I was made of. I learned how to love, lose, and love again. I learned that I was never alone, even when I felt so very alone.

Life is about love and happiness. It’s about learning who you are and what you stand for. It’s about taking the wisdom that you have learned and passing it along. It’s about supporting others and being the best you that you can be. Don’t be content to sit on the sidelines and watch the game. Get into it and live your life to the fullest, every single day. Because you don’t want regrets when the day comes that you take your last breath. You may be old or you may be young, either way there are going to be people that lament your passing and say, “They left too young.”

Give, and you shall receive.

I read an article this morning that discussed “Pending coffee”. A person in Washington, D.C., witnessed two police officers and three attorneys purchase five and seven coffees respectively. The police officers took their two and the attorney’s their three and the others were pending coffee. A short while later, an elderly, underprivileged (in this case it means poor) gentleman walk in and ask the cashier if they had any pending coffee available. She gave him a cup of coffee. To this gentleman it was free, but it had been paid for in advance. In this respect, it’s very much like Jesus and his sacrifice on the cross paying for our sins, all we need to do is ask him into our hearts and accept something freely. Do you see the connection I am making? They paid for the coffee and a person asked if there was any and he received it, free.

Now, I know that people are going to say something about this being nowhere near the same thing. But, isn’t it? In both cases, a person paid something for us and we simply need to ask to receive. Remember, I said this was very much like what Jesus did for us. It’s all a matter of interpretation and this is open for it. This is my interpretation of the situation.

I also read comments from people ridiculing the police officers and attorneys for their act of kindness. Comments degrading, even further, the plight of this man. Harsh words spoken about people they do not know. I want to say thank you to the people that purchase “pending coffee” for their small act of kindness. I also want to thank that gentleman for asking if there was a pending coffee for him to have. It allowed a person to witness and speak about what they saw. See, the further I go with this, the more it becomes blatantly obvious to me about the similarities between this act and our Lord and Savior’s crucifixion. Acts of kindness and people witnessing about what they saw and a person(s) being ridiculed.

Thankfully, the negative comments were few and the words of praise many. To read other comments addressing the negative and explaining that (in this case) the coffee was only free to the person who asked for it and really, it wasn’t free because it had been paid for. The people that purchased these coffees see, on a daily basis, the people that receive it. They know the plight of these people. I would be willing to bet that for some of these people, that warm cup of coffee they asked for, may be the only hot thing they get for the rest of the day. The time they take in the coffee shop to sit down and drink their coffee may be the only place where they can be warm for a little bit of time.

As a whole in society, people forget about the simplicity of having a warm home to live in, a bed to sleep on and food for them to eat and be full. I won’t discuss the extravagances we have in the form of designer clothes, purses, glasses, cars or shoes. Let’s strip it to down to the most basic things in the form of electricity, water, gas, shelter and food. Without a vehicle, how would you get to work, to earn the money, to pay for utilities, food and shelter? Now, think of those times when utilities are temporarily cut off because of something that has happened on the providers’ side or due to a storm. Can you remember how you became upset or frightened you became over your uncertainty about when it would come back on? Maybe it was out for a few hours, days or even weeks. How did you stay warm or cool? How did you eat? A lot of times it was because of the kindness of strangers. Business owners procuring generators to open their doors and give people a place of refuge and a place to eat. Clothes were washed with the kindness of strangers that allowed others to use washing machines and dryers.

It’s this same kindness that gives me hope. Hope that one day people in this great nation will fully open their hearts and give more than they receive and to give to those who can never repay them. You see, I give most to those who can never repay me. Why do I do this? Because I have received the kindness that I’m talking about. I have lived in places that really should have been condemned because it was all I could afford. I have been on welfare and I have partaken in the food stamp program. I know what it’s like to worry over how I am going to pay to just keep the utilities on. I have had utilities cut off because I didn’t have the money to pay them. I know the pain of not having enough food. I have watched my children eat and still be hungry all while I did not eat because there wasn’t enough. It would have taken food away from my kids, so I went hungry…many, many times. I know about the Angel Tree program at Christmas because my children have been the recipients. Strangers bought clothing and toys for my children without knowing anything other than their clothing sizes, what items of clothing they most needed and what toys did they most want. I have wrapped these things, in secret, and placed them under the small Christmas tree and watched their excitement over JUST having something waiting for them. They didn’t care what they got, they were just excited to have SOMETHING.

I know the kindness of strangers who know nothing about my individual circumstances. They never asked, they simply gave, knowing that I could not repay them. I thank these kind people in a way now that would make them smile. I am now that kind stranger. I give every month a dollar or two more than what is due on our electric and water bill to programs they have set up to help those in need with their utility bills. What’s an extra dollar on top of the bill I already have to pay? I know that someone, somewhere, is going to either walk into their office or call their number and try to get some assistance with their bill because, at that moment in their lives, they are struggling. I give food to local organizations that feed the poor and the homeless. I don’t know the people eating the food, but that makes no difference to me. I don’t need to personally know them. I only need to know that they are able to eat because I and many others like me have helped to ensure they CAN eat. My daughter and I have made up bags filled with essentials like shampoo, combs, toothpaste, toothbrushes, etc. and passed them out to the homeless we run across with a simple note inside that reads, “God has seen you struggling and wants you to know that He loves you. You are not alone and may these items help you in a small way.”

With all of that, I have a favorite, and I have mentioned it in passing. The Angel Tree program that is run by Salvation Army. This is my pet charity. I save all year long so that each year at Christmas our family can pick two families. We always pick a boy and a girl, always. We get these two children every single thing on their list. Clothes, coats, gloves, socks, underwear, shoes and every toy on their list. One year, I chose the little boy simply because he said he wanted a model rocket. This little boy was meant just for us to help. Why? Because I am married to a man who LOVES model rockets, war games and comic books. Those were a couple other items this boy asked for. He made out like a bandit that year. Not only did he get the model rocket, but he got all the other items that goes with it, the batteries, the boosters, replacement parts, etc. He also got all the clothing he would need to make it through a cold winter. Last year, we got a 3 year old girl who wanted a play kitchen. It took me 3 weeks and visiting every last store and even driving to other towns before I found her kitchen, but by golly, she got it. She also got all the little things she could use to make a meal for her family, her dolls or play with other kids. Plastic toy dishes, cooking utensils, food, etc. She also got a baby doll and a play stroller. It was her little face that I wished I could see on Christmas morning. Actually, every year, I wish I could watch from the viewpoint of a fly, these kids’ faces. I also know that for two families every year, there are parents or parental figures, who will be grateful that someone took the time to give items that their child needs and/or wants. As far as clothing, we make sure we get them enough clothes that they can wear a different outfit each day for 7 days. We even get them one outfit they can wear to church or to get “pretty” pictures in. If we purchase items that need batteries, then they get the batteries too. I don’t do any of this for recognition. In fact, that’s why I love the program so much. It’s all anonymous. I don’t know where these kids live and the families have no clue as to who I am. I like it that way.

I just prefer to donate anonymously or if it must have a name, I simply say “The Bunch Family”. It doesn’t get much more anonymous than that. I’m not always able to donate to charities or to help someone out. But, I try not to worry so much anymore. I know that I am only doing what I feel I’ve been called to do at that moment. I’m glad that I CAN help now. Because, the Lord knows, I was not always able and for many years, I struggled profusely.

Don’t look down on someone who is less fortunate than yourself. You do not know the circumstances behind where they are currently. Ridiculing them for it doesn’t make them look worse, it makes you look extremely ugly. I urge you, if you are able, think of others and put their needs ahead of your wants. If you can’t donate items or money, or if you don’t want to, I beg of you to donate your time in a soup kitchen or something similar. Give without expecting to receive. You won’t be sorry.

I'm so over all of this crap

I feel like I need to air a few issues, so this is what I shall discuss.

First, let’s talk about beliefs and opinions, which is essentially the same thing. I know that I am guilty of attacking a person’s beliefs and of their opinions. However; that meant that I was the one with the issue and not the other person. I’d like to think that over a long period of time I have matured enough to realize that each of us has our right to our own thoughts and beliefs. I’d really like to think that I am able to take that wisdom and not behave in such a manner that they feel like they are coming under attack from me. On the flip side of that coin, I’d also like to believe that I won’t feel the same way again either. Unfortunately, this is not going to be the case and I know that. Just as surely as I know that the sun rises in the East and sets in the West. So, with that said, I must therefore be well versed enough and believe with such conviction that I am prepared for the onslaught of what I know will come.

Yesterday was one of those kinds of days. I felt as if I was being attacked for a belief that I have. I tried very hard to not take offense and not become angry over it. I partially succeeded in that attempt. I took offense to only one sentence out of the entirety that was said. To me that is progress. I do think that I had success in not lashing out at anything other than what I took offense to because I understood what they were saying and while I didn’t necessarily agree with it, I realized that this is that person’s belief. I really want to think that in my future that I will continue to not say to another person that what they firmly believe is in any way, wrong. Who am I to judge what is right or wrong in someone else’s head? It isn’t my place to judge them. That belongs to my Lord and Savior and not any living being on this earth. You can even disagree with that and I’m okay with it. I simply beg of you to hold steadfast in what you believe, do your own research on whatever the matter is be it your faith, your political views or whatever else you believe. Be educated in those matters and speak with conviction, yet retain your composure WHEN you come under attack from others.

This next topic is something that my friends and my immediate family will side with me on, but I am almost positive that there will be some family members that will take issue with. I’m going to take it there anyway. There are and have always been great measures taken to keep a great dividing gap between our children. When I say our children, I mean mine and Pat’s. Not that him and I put the gap there, but another party did. To go to the length of coaching children as to how they are to act and speak around me was not a surprise for me to learn, but I felt that if you must coach your offspring then the insecurity is yours and not mine. Nine years I have dealt with this. At every turn, my husband and I met opposition from the other party, attempts to create discord in our marriage and blatant attacks toward my husband. Five years ago I hit my limit on disrespect. I do not tolerate it from my own daughters and I will not tolerate it from his. Period. At that point, I became the enemy with my In-laws. I made it known that I would not allow certain people under the same roof as myself if they cannot control themselves and be respectful. That rule is still in effect to this day. My own daughter is not allowed to be back under my roof so to think that I would allow the same kind of behavior from another child is ludicrous.

I know that I am not the mother to a couple of our children and I never once tried to replace their own. However; I AM a mother and the rules that my own must follow are the same rules for the others. One rule, straight across the board. I did not make any difference. Others do not have that same policy. I have witnessed obvious differences made between “true” family members and family members by marriage only. I have tried for a great number of years to overlook it and just remain steadfast in my own manner. This year was the year I failed. I cannot bear to continue watching from the sidelines. I am not friends with these people and won’t perpetuate the illusion that I am. I’m just tired.

I’m tired of watching my child cry because of another child. I’m tired of watching my daughter become angry because the mother of the other child has created an entire lifetime worth of animosity and jealousy in her child and it is aimed at my daughter. I am tired of feeling as if I am caught in the middle between three warring families. I’m done! If someone has a problem with me then talk to ME. If you don’t know how to do that, then that is your issue, not mine, not my husband’s and most definitely not the children’s. Regardless of whatever issue is going on with one of the other kids, the moment my husband learns of it, it isn’t long after, that I learn it as well. With that being said, it is my suggestion that they not go through me to reach him. If he needs to be reached there are ways to do it other than asking me to do it for you. I, like you, do not want to be in the middle. And, like I am doing now, stop being nice and remove yourself from the position you find yourself in.

I was sincere in my words when I said that I hope she was okay. I did not ask for information, nor was it required. A rote response of “she will be” or “I hope so as well”, was all that was needed. I knew that I would learn what was going on, it was just a matter of time. When I did learn what was going on, I had to encounter an attitude that I have seen only too many times from my husband. Each time, it only serves to make me angry. I become angry with each person that is a link in the chain that upsets him. To read the words, “like Britney had”, was enough to push me over that proverbial cliff I’ve been clinging to for NINE years. You may very well love your family and you can rest assured that I love mine just as much. In an attempt to help my husband keep his sanity I have decided that OUR family, meaning the people that live in our house, is where I will keep my focus. I, and I alone, will make sure that we are cared for and nurtured. I have never stood between Pat and any of his family and I will continue in that manner. I also will no longer make mine or my daughter’s presence known around the rest of his family. This may be considered as wrong in your book, but not in my own.

What I want to point out though is this. Children grow up and move away from their parents. A marriage is between two people and no one else. As long as the husband and the wife love and nurture what they have then they continue to thrive when the children are out on their own. This is my goal. That and just making sure that my children are raised in a manner that I deem fitting and just. Your, meaning everyone, opinion means absolutely nothing to me.

My last bit of infinite wisdom is this and you can agree or disagree.

You CAN love someone and not like them.

That is where I am.

America, the bully.

U.S. Says Navy SEAL Team Stages Raid on Somali Militants

U.S. Raids Strike Terrorist Targets in 2 African Nations (http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/06/world/africa/Al-Qaeda-Suspect-Wanted-in-US-Said-to-Be-Taken-in-Libya.html?hp&_r=0)

Those are just two of the top news stories featured by The New York Times. I’m choosing to address these particular stories because of the blatant abuse of power that was used to orchestrate these events. While it is claimed that these raids ‘just happened’ to be done on the same day and it was not planned as such, I am finding that extremely hard to believe. I’d like to say that I am surprised, but alas, I am not.

I’d like for our Commander in Chief to explain to me why we are using our military to strike at an organization that orchestrated a hostile takeover of a shopping mall in Nairobi, subsequently killing many people, yet they cannot confirm that any Americans were hurt or injured. Why, during a government shutdown, are you allowing our military forces to be used to strike down a certain target and now you cannot even confirm that the target was eliminated? WHY are we spending money we clearly do not have to ‘flex the American military muscle’? Anyone? Maybe I’m missing something here.

It was stated on Friday by the finance office that pays all our military that even with the Pay Our Military Act having been signed, the military members are not going to be paid due to ‘lack of information.’ I’m starting to see a trend. Give the American public only the minimal information they need and keep them in a constant state of fear. I, for one, Sir am not one who frightens easily and when I do it only serves to make me angry.

We, the American citizens, are tired of the bullying, the lies, the shady deals, the backroom talks, the lack of credible information and the incompetency being shown by our current leadership! I believe that our military should not have the R2P (Responsibility To Protect) other countries from terroristic groups or activities. We obviously cannot keep our government open, why are we butting into things that are not happening here? We should not be the country who bulldozes into an area and offers ‘help’ in the form of cash, military grade weapons or putting our own troops there! Maybe, just once, we really should close our borders and take the time to get our leadership in line, our finances in line and take care of the citizens of our own country!

Suicide vs. Assisted Euthanasia - Is it the same thing?

Okay, so I read an article this morning talking about how a transsexual opted to be put to death rather than being unhappy with the failed surgical procedures to take him from female to male. He was unhappy with the radical double mastectomy and his body was rejecting the penis made for him. So, instead of undergoing further surgeries, he asked his doctor to euthanize him. You can read the article for yourself here: http://worldnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/10/05/20803178-painless-death-or-precipitous-cliff-transsexual-chooses-euthanasia-after-failed-operation?lite

It was then that I became curious as to where else was it legal for physicians to euthanize a patient at their own request. Turns out this is legal in Belgium, The Netherlands and Luxembourg. I’m still in the process of doing more research to find out if there has to be some kind of medical condition present and documented before physicians or family members can euthanize them or can any person just decide they no longer want to live and get help committing suicide. Once I find out that information then I will share it.

This is one of those Dr. Jack Kevorkian things for me. I, personally, don’t think that the man ever did anything wrong. You can disagree with my opinion but that won’t change how I feel about this subject. I believe that there are truly cases where legal physician euthanasia should be granted. I also believe that if a person so chooses this particular exit from their life and they want a friend or family member to help them, I don’t believe the person helping should be held liable for their death.  Now, don’t jump to the conclusion that I believe that any person that chooses this action should have their wishes abided by. That is not the case with me. I believe this should be a viable option for a person that is terminally ill, their quality of life is gone and the pain that this person is in can no longer be managed.

I’ll give an example so you can understand, in fact, I’ll toss a few out for you.

Patient A has battled cancer for a long number of years. They get into remission and a couple years later it comes back more aggressive than before. After fighting the good fight, they become incapacitated and rely upon professional care for their every need. They can no longer eat. They can no longer talk. They do not know where they are at any given moment. Their moments of clarity are far gone. Pain is no longer controlled nor can it be with any type of medication. They made their wishes very clear that should they reach the point where they currently are, that they would prefer to be given a lethal injection to end their life so as to not draw out the suffering for either themselves or their family members. They have a medical professional that has agreed to oversee the injection. I think this should be legal for them to make this kind of decision.

Patient B has been severely injured in a motor vehicle accident. They will never walk or talk again. They will never be able to feed, clothe, bathe or care for their own needs again. They have sustained a massive traumatic brain injury and while the brain shows some activity, physicians advise the family that their loved one will be on life support for the remainder of their lives. I believe this is a second case where it should be legal to abide by the patient’s wishes IF they have expressed such thoughts prior to a case like this. OR if the patient is able to talk and express their intent clearly before declining into a scenario as described, or one similar, then their wishes should be done.

Patient C has battled depression for a good number of years. They have survived any number of abuses and addictions. They become suicidal but do not tell either their physician or family for fear of being put into a mental facility. They do however; seek out their physician to help with their wishes of ending their life prematurely. I do not think that this person should have their wishes listened to or acted upon. I do believe that this person needs professional help and that maybe with the right medication and proper support they can get back to living a life that is better for them.

I truly believe that ONLY those considered terminally ill should have this kind of option given to them. I believe this is something that only that person can decide if it’s the right option for their situation. I would like to think that should I ever be faced with something like this happening directly to me, that my family would love and respect my wishes enough, that they would move heaven and earth to help me make it happen. I know there are people who will disagree with me and that’s okay. A lot of my thoughts have the tendency to really be way off center from where the majority of people tend to think. I like having thoughts that are different. It makes for interesting conversations and sometimes good debates.

Now, I will say that the article I read about the transsexual choosing to be euthanized was maybe a case where their wishes should not have been listened to. However; I am not their doctor, I am not that person and I know nothing about the situation other than what is given in the article. I don’t know if this person was in pain and, if so, how much pain. I don’t know that future surgeries could have eased that or made things work like he hoped they would. I simply do not know. I cannot hold the physician liable for their death because it was not their own idea. I do believe that had this person not been euthanized by their physician that they would have attempted to take their own life and could very well have ended up in worse shape than he was, which could bring them right back to a physician assisted euthanasia. So, I guess really, in the end it doesn’t matter because they got their wish.

Government shutdown "not a game"

I know there are a lot of people that are upset over the government shutdown and all the implications coming from that. There are a lot that don’t know when their next paycheck is coming and I find that incredibly infuriating. There are some that have been furloughed, some that are considered ‘essential’ personnel that have to work yet won’t receive pay and yet more that don’t know if they will actually get to go back to work. All over political parties inability to come to an agreement on a spending budget.

I had it brought to my attention tonight that even with the Pay Our Military Act signed into law that DFAS (Defense Finance and Accounting Service) is not paying any military members until they receive ‘further instruction’. I’m not sure how much more instruction an agency can get as to paying its employees. This was not the correct answer to give to hundreds of thousands of soldiers and their families. Unacceptable DFAS. Completely unacceptable. I’m glad you are aware of the Act, now you need to act upon that.

In other news, the members of Senate have been ‘forced to operate their own elevators’. I read this and my first thought was, “Well, the rest of us commoners must operate OUR own elevators as well.” Maybe that was the wrong attitude to have, but I found that statement to be completely emblazoned with a sense of superiority over others. To read that the Senators are ‘having to be amateur tour guides’ while leading groups of people through the Statuary Room upset me even more. Amateur? These are the very people who should know these rooms and the history encapsulated in those very rooms BEST! Rep. Steve King was quoted as saying, “You get a chance to talk to them and see how much they appreciate this building and this country.” Wow. You ‘get a chance to talk to them’. I’m sorry, but aren’t these the SAME people who helped get you to where you are? Shouldn’t THESE be the people you talk to?

And another Representative was saying that he was having to be his own receptionist and answer HIS OWN PHONE. Well, there’s a novel idea, chap! I vote you answer your own phone every single day. I bet your constituents’ would love to know that should they call and give their opinion on a bill, that it actually be their representative on the other end listening. It’s a crazy idea, I know! House Speaker John Boehner was quoted as saying, “This is not a damn game.” Yet, what was behind him? A brand new printed poster (apparently the print shop is considered essential) with #demandavote. Another one was #justvote. Yet another one was #letstalk. Funny Mr. Speaker, it sure looks like this is nothing BUT a game.

Congress is having a ‘rare’ weekend session in order to at least try to give the appearance that they actually care about the people of this country. I find it funny that they don’t have more weekend sessions. I firmly believe that if the average American is working six days a week, that our elected officials should also be working that much. I am of the belief that the people of this country need to have an awakening of our own and start shouting our voices and let them be heard! I know that I have personally called my representative and shared my own opinion. I have begun writing letters and signing petitions. I have a voice, it’s a loud one, and I fully intend on it being heard!

You are correct Mr. Speaker. This is indeed, NOT a game. So, STOP PLAYING IT LIKE ONE! For once, erase the invisible line that separates one political party from another and WORK TOGETHER FOR THE BETTER OF THE PEOPLE YOU WERE ELECTED TO SERVE!  

A Dawning Realization

I went to bed last night with a heavy heart and on the verge of tears. It is today that I sit and write this with the knowledge that my physician is correct in his statement from yesterday. I have been given information that I did not want to hear and it has made me think long and hard about my future.

I started a new job this week and was so excited to be working again. Even more excited that this was a relatively simple position with little stress. My most taxing duty would be to ensure that there is enough food to feed the masses as they traipse in. A lot of multitasking was required and since I am the queen of that, it should be only too easy to pick up.

What I learned is that there is a lot more involved than what was explained during the interview process. I was asked if I was okay with lifting a certain weight load and I was confident that I would be. It was explained in such a way to sound as if that weight limit would only be a couple times during my shift, not that it would be almost constantly while working. And really, 40 pounds is not a lot in the big scheme of things. It is however; quite a lot to consistently heft up onto a wire storage rack that is almost a foot taller than I.

After three days of doing this no less than 70 times I was quite sore. I expected that. What I didn’t expect was for this seemingly small act to cause issues with my blood pressure, which in turn affects my heart rate, which affects breathing, so on and so forth. It’s a trickle effect, much like the champagne glasses filling with liquid. I sought out my physician to talk about the blood pressure issue, knowing that if we can address that, then everything else should fall into place shortly after. Instead, he performed a thorough physical exam and found that the muscles in my neck, shoulder, back, abdomen and legs, all had knots that he initially thought were developing muscles from weight training. The amount of pain that I was in was almost debilitating, but I only wanted help with my blood pressure.

I was of the understanding that the muscle soreness would ease over time. He frowned upon the conclusion of his exam and asked why I had palpable knots that were visible under my clothing. I was honest and told him about starting a new job and what it entailed. The look on his face was very kind, but his tone was a little reproachable. He said he understood my desire to work and to contribute to my household, but that any kind of stress on my body, in whatever form it comes in, does very bad things. Those bad things always start out with what one would consider a small issue, but quickly turns into me being hurt a lot more in a very short amount of time. This doctor has brought me back from the brink of death twice in less than three years. He truly understands me as a patient and he truly cares. He said he could not give me medical clearance to work for fear of what will shut down in my system.

It was actually hearing him say that I could not be medically cleared to work that hit me very hard. I have more questions than answers today, but I am certain that over time I will understand and find the answers I need. I know that he is correct in this. My mother has medical issues brought on and caused by stress. My grandmother did and I have other family members that do not do well with certain stressors. I was simply hoping to escape the same type of fate. Now that I know that is not a possibility then I wonder what I can do.

There are lots of things I can do and I do them every day. My best friend said to me, after I told her that I feel like such a burden, that I am far from a burden. I take care of my family and our home. I take care of our pets and make sure they have what is needed. I have a husband who loves me to a degree that I will never know, but I can understand it because I love him just as much. I provide a “home” for him to come to. I take care of everything, every day and I do it without a second thought and I do it alone because he is gone overseas more than what he is ever physically stateside. I fought for a very long time and shoved my medical needs to the wayside to ensure that I was doing the best that I could for my kids while being a single parent. I used to work two or three jobs just to provide for them, and I did it all without complaint.

My friend is correct. I did what needed to be done. Now I am paying the price for that. I ran myself in the ground. I focused on everything and everybody else and ignored what I was feeling at the time. I didn’t have time to be sick. Now I am nothing but sick. What hurts the most is that there is nothing physically wrong with me, in the sense that, when others see me they see nothing wrong. I have health problems that are not seen with the naked eye and that makes people mean and cruel. I do not want to be mocked for having a health problem that others cannot see. Yet, I know it will happen. There will be people that say I should suck it up and get to whatever.

My response will be that I would love to. I would love to have a physical impairment that they can see so that they don’t say hurtful things. I want nothing more than to do something more than just breathe and exist. I want to feel like I am helping my family and not harming them. I want to have a day where I am not in any kind of physical pain. To have a day where I can smile freely because I can move freely! Instead, I have to look at every situation and analyze it quickly to see if this might be something I can enjoy with my family. I don’t get to do that.

There are so many medical conditions that cannot be seen, yet people have the impression that if there is nothing physically wrong with you, that you are not ill. I beg to differ. Arthritis is one of these things, yet people aren’t saying that they can just ignore it and go on. Well, you can ignore it, but it’s only going to make you hurt so much worse if you do. Lupus is another. Fibromyalgia. Psoriatic Arthritis. Rhuematoid Arthritis. Crohn’s. Cancer. Mental Health. These are just a few of the things that came to mind. I wouldn’t dare walk up to a cancer patient and tell them that it’s all in their head and they should just move on as if nothing is wrong. So why do people do this to those of us who have an ailment that cannot be seen?

I don’t know. It’s hard for me to sit here and less than 40 years of age, knowing that stress will kill me. It’s how my body processes it. It turns on itself and instead of just attacking whatever germ, it sees everything inside as a foreign object and tries to kill itself. This is not fiction. I hurt, every single day. Yet I keep plugging on. Because I am a fighter and I do not know how to quit.

So, while I am having a bad day and I’m feeling like a burden, I know that I’ll continue putting one foot in front of the other and moving on. Because it’s what has to be done.