Posted in Blogging, His Days (about the husband), Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, Stories of my life, writing

Learning Compassion (again)

As some of my reader’s and friends already know my husband passed away on August 17th, 2019. I miss him every single day.

This is something I wrote in 2015 about him and me and learning compassion. Not only for him but for me also. It’s something I’m still working on. The compassion part for me.

I will eventually come back to blogging. I just don’t know when. Thank you for sticking around.

oldmansil

 

I watch him out of the corner of my eye as I do the daily dishes. I’m worried about him, as he hasn’t eaten in a couple of days. He has hardly moved from his bed in the same amount of time.

I know I can’t nag him to eat. I’ve tried that in the past and it just makes us both miserable. I feel bad because the other day he asked for something special to eat and I had to tell him no. Not because I wouldn’t cook it because we had no money to buy it to cook. He didn’t seem to understand when I explained it to him.

He doesn’t understand lots of things now. It saddens me, but I have learned not to let it linger in my mind. It’s not his fault. It’s the fault of his medications. The strong pain pills he takes several times a day. They have robbed him of his sharp mind like the pain has robbed him of his appetite, his focus, his ability to function like he used to.

When we moved into this 30-year-old mobile home almost 2 years ago. We decided to put his twin size bed in the living room. He loves his TV, but the couch was too uncomfortable for him to lay on all day. So we got rid of the old loveseat and put in a twin bed we got for free. It has worked out well. The TV gives him something to do.

I watch him as I do the dishes. I see the deep furrows of pain on his face. I wish I could do something more for him but I know I can’t. Soon his afternoon pills will take effect, his eyes will gloss over, the furrows won’t be quite so deep. For a little while.

I finish the last dish, put it in the dish rack to air dry, wipe my hands and make myself another cup of coffee. I’ve been in the kitchen for 45 minutes and not a word was spoken between him and I. Just the sound of the TV going and the clink of dishes being cleaned.

I walk down the hall to my office and sit down with my coffee cup in hand. Taking small sips, I think about the last time we spoke to each other. Was it yesterday? Or the day before? I lay my head back and close my eyes. We don’t speak much anymore. I’ve learned to accept it. As I’ve learned to accept a lot of things in the last few years.

I could sink into a pool of self-pity, but why? It’s not his fault he became disabled, so racked with pain that taking a simple shower has to be planned ahead of time, just so the pain will be somewhat manageable.

I could rage at the universe and cry an ocean of tears. Again, why? The universe is not to blame for the circumstances that made us lose our home and come to live in a broken-down trailer. It’s a roof over our heads and heat in the winter.

I could rail against it all. I have in the past, I won’t lie about that. I’m human, with faults. So, I railed against something him and I had no control over. I cried, I felt sorry for myself. Worse of all, I wanted to leave. I wanted to run away from the pain. His pain and mine. I wanted to run fast and as far as I could. Halfway across the world.

I didn’t run. I couldn’t run. I won’t run.

Instead, I learned compassion. Compassion for him. He doesn’t want to be in this much pain. Every single day, every single minute, to live in pain. Who would want that? So I find my compassion for him. My patience. My desire to help ease his suffering if I can. Which I can’t.

I can only help him suffer less. I will settle for that.

I have also learned to have compassion for myself. That was the hardest part. To be gentle with myself as much as I am gentle with him. I make mistakes, I lose my temper, I get frustrated, I get depressed. It’s ok to feel all these things. I will NOT beat myself up over having these feelings because they never last. I can’t let them. I won’t let them. I feel them and then I let them go without the guilt.

I open my eyes, sip my coffee and keep an ear out for him as I face my computer and do what I know I’m good at. Writing words.

I write the words I cannot speak out loud. I write the words that my soul feels. I write the words that I have learned. I write my heart. That’s how I learn compassion all over again.

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday

 

 

This week  has been a week of reflection. Today is only Wednesday so I imagine the rest of the week will be much the same.

I know I haven’t posted much this month. I took an unplanned month off of writing, of posting, of doing much of anything, really. I can’t even blame it on an active social life, as I don’t have one. All my friends are online. I don’t have anyone here that I go out for coffee with, that I go shopping with, that I just hang with. I hang with my computer, my dog Sam and sometimes the husband.

Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t feel as if I’m missing out. At one time I had all those things. Good friends that I had coffee with, shopped with, or just hung out with. So I know what it’s like to have all that. It might seem strange to you that I much prefer how I am now. Today. Right this minute. On my computer typing out words that my friends will read.

Do I ever get lonely? You might ask that. The short answer…No. No, I very rarely get lonely. I enjoy my solitary lifestyle. It’s not for everyone. The husband hates being alone. In fact, he gets depressed if he’s alone for too long. He enjoys people. Being with people, talking, joking, laughing, drinking, whatever he and his friends do together. He enjoys that interaction and he misses it when he doesn’t get it. He is the type of person who needs other people around, he thrives on it. Unfortunately, since he got so sick and can’t do much physically his ‘friends’ have faded into the background.

This hurts him. He doesn’t understand it.

I do. Sort of.

The past year or so has been rough. Hell, the past four years have been rough. I don’t feel sorry for myself. It has shown me just how strong I can be. That’s always a good thing.

When my mom died at the end of May it hit hard. Not because my mom and I were best friends or that we had a tight bond. We weren’t and we didn’t. My mom and I had a rocky relationship since the day I was born. That’s ok. She taught me how to be strong and how to be my own woman. I guess you could say she taught me the true meaning of ‘tough love’. It was tough to love her. But I did. I just didn’t always like her. Or her me.

A few people know I have written my autobiography. I haven’t published it. I wouldn’t publish it while my mother was still alive. Now that she’s gone? I probably still won’t publish it. Not yet. Maybe never. It’s not pretty. I’m not even sure if it would have a happy ending. Because my life is still ongoing. For now.

The writings have a lot of my mom in them. She was never the hug you, compliment you, tell you she loves you type of mother. I never heard those words from her. “I love you.” Never. Not once. My sister and I had a conversation the other week and we discussed our mother and never hearing those words from her. It bothers my sister. It doesn’t bother me. Why? Because I accept that was the kind of woman my mother was. My sister has a harder time accepting that. That’s her right. I don’t try to persuade her otherwise.

The only time I heard my mother say, “I’m sorry” was for something she never did. Which seems strange, as she did plenty. Yet, the only time I heard her apologize to me was for something that was never in her control. My sexual abuse. She never even knew about it until I was an adult. Then she had to ask me outright if I was abused by the person who abused me for years. I told her the truth. That I was. She cried and kept telling me she was sorry.

I told her she had nothing to be sorry for in that instance. It wasn’t her fault. I couldn’t tell her when I was a child and it was happening. And later. Well, what was the point of hurting her so much? So I said nothing. Until she asked me.

My mother was who she was. I am who I am. So we never mentioned it again.

So many memories surfaced when my mother died. Then I received a box from my sister this week. It was filled with memories. With pictures and items from my mother’s house. I looked at all those pictures. Some of so very long ago. Of me. My mother. My dad. And I became reflective.

I called my sister and thanked her for the pictures. As I didn’t have any before that. Not a one. The reason why is another long story I might tell some day. Again. As it’s already a part of my autobiography.  And again, it’s a story of me and my mother.

So, I guess, in a long about way, I’m saying why I took an unplanned month off from blogging. Life’s memories got in the way. Mix that in with just being tired to the bone and you have the recipe for doing nothing. Or almost nothing. For a month.

I’m catching my breath back again. With the help of my friends. Here. Now. You. I will be ok.

Thank you.

 

Posted in Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday Whatever!

I was looking at my WordPress stats the other day. A rare occurrence for me, as I usually don’t bother with the stats page. If people read my posts that’s great, if not, that’s ok too. I’m not for everyone.

What surprised me was the one post of mine that was the most popular. It’s the open letter to my sister. I posted that letter on November 5, 2014. Since that day it has been read 7161 times. Almost three thousand more times than my second most popular post.

 

2016-07-13

 

I was floored. Seven thousand, one hundred and sixty-one times, someone has clicked on that post to read it. You know what that tells me? A whole lot of people are wanting to re-connect with their sister. That’s kind of sad.

That one post is consistently the most viewed post…..every. single. day!

Family members are probably the hardest to deal with, especially if there is anger, resentment, misunderstanding and grudges between them. I wrote that letter two years ago because my sister and I had drifted apart. We were no longer talking and I missed her. I didn’t understand what I had done to cause the riff between us. She just refused to talk to me. Granted we were hundreds of miles apart, with her living in Wisconsin and me in Canada. Still, I missed that sisterly connection.

So I wrote her an open letter. I expressed my bewilderment and my love. Hoping, maybe, one day she’d see it and read it. I don’t know if she ever did as she is not on the internet much.

Since my mother died at the end of May this year, my sister and I have started talking again. At first, it was just about my mom, then after she died about her estate. Now, we are talking more like we used to…as sisters. I very grateful for that. It’s just such a shame that it only happened because of the death of my mom. I’ll take it and run with it as I’ve missed her.

Even if one person who looked at that post as inspiration found that connection again with their sister, well then, I’ve made a difference. It was never in my mind to help others with that post, a bit selfish I’m sure but there it is.

So if you can, if you want, keep your family close. I’m trying. Although I have to admit I can and do well without some. But that’s a whole other post. 😉

 

 

 

 

If you were on the outs with a family member, did you reconnect? Or not? Let me know if you’re comfortable doing so!

 

 

 

 

Posted in Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, poetry, Stories of my life

In Memory of Mom

As many of you know, my mom passed away last Wednesday. Later today is her funeral. There will be a viewing from 4 -7 pm in Wabeno, Wisconsin with a service afterward. After that, she will be cremated and her ashes scattered close to where my dad’s ashes were scattered years before.

I won’t be there in physical form, as I live in Canada now, but I most certainly will be there in spirit. I’m sure, if she can, mom knows my heart is with her. I’m also sure her services will be lovely.

Since I can’t be there to pay my respects, I thought I would dedicate this post to her. It’s not really a poem, more like free-falling thoughts.

This one’s for you, Mom. I love and miss you.

 

IN MEMORY OF

 

 

Mom

I won’t pretend that you were an angel

Now that you’re gone

You would have hated that description

I won’t pretend that you were perfect,

As we both knew you weren’t

You were happy just being you in all your

imperfections

You had a fast temper and your brown eyes would snap

with fire as you told whoever displeased you to…

knock it off!”

You could hold a grudge better than anyone I ever knew

You didn’t give an inch, as I know all too well

personally

If you thought someone had done you wrong

there was no forgiving

You could be stubborn to a fault

But I had to admire your convictions

that utter belief in one’s self

You and I had a tumultuous relationship

all of my life

Yet I never stopped respecting you

and wanting your approval

Never thought of not loving you

As my mom

You were the strongest woman I know

You taught me to be strong

I’m grateful for that

I just wish you could have taught me

how to deal with the pain of losing you

You lived a long life of eighty-six years

I know not all of those years were good

You had to go through some tough times

Some painful experiences

In the end, though there were lots of good years

good memories, great loves

In the last few years

I believe we came to a silent agreement

to love and respect each other

despite our differences

Maybe I’m more like you than I realized

I do hope so

Wherever you are

I know you are with Dad again

and that makes the parting

a little easier to handle

Take his hand, Mom, as you did in life

and be content with the life you left behind

You will always be loved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life

She Giggled at the Word Vagina

**update** As of 5:40 pm mountain time today, Wednesday May 25, 2016 My mom passed away. Thank you for all your sympathy and well wishes for me and my family at this time. ❤ Good-bye Mom, I love you, tell Dad hi.

 

I’ve been pretty quiet since late last week. No posts, very little interacting on blogs. A couple of good friends know why. I emailed them over the weekend.

It’s been a tough time for me and going to be tougher the next little bit. It’s something I’ve expected the last few months, yet, now that the time is here….it’s almost unbearable. You see, my mom is dying. She has very little time left. We are talking hours here now, according to her doctors in Wisconsin.

I talked to her the day after Mother’s day and noticed she sounded very tired and wore out. Her sense of humor was still intact though as her and I laughed over something silly. The month before she had lost most of the use of her legs. They just gave out on her, so she was using a walker. We joked that her and my husband could have a walker race. She laughed and stated that she would win. That’s how she was. She accepted things and worked them to her advantage. She is the strongest person I know.

When I talked to my sister on Friday and she told me that mom was in the hospital and wasn’t expected to live much longer, my mind went to that last bit of silliness and that’s when the tears flowed. My mother loved life. She was a diminutive person with a larger than life personality. She IS…..She IS….soon to be WAS but not just yet.

 

JLPhillips 2013 (c)
JLPhillips 2013 (c)

 

Many of my readers know about my mom as I’ve written about her several times. We even gave her a great birthday last year when a lot of you sent her birthday cards. She was so happy when she got all those cards and recipes. I’m glad I was able to do that for her with your help. Thank you.

My mom would have turned eighty-seven in October of this year. That’s a long life. Her body is just worn out the doctors told my sister. After years of dialysis and various other illness’, her small frame could not handle any more.

I won’t be able to go and say good-bye to her. I don’t have the funds. I also have a sick husband to take care of. I feel slightly better knowing my mom and I discussed this very issue several months ago. She understood that I wouldn’t be able to come to her funeral when the time came. I have responsibilities here. She was good with it. It still hurts me. So much.

My sister and I have been talking on the phone every day since the initial call on Friday. If nothing else, this has brought her and I back together, at least for now. As many of you know, we hadn’t been on speaking terms for years. I don’t know why and this is not the time to ask. I’m just grateful for now.

She has all her funeral arrangements made and paid for. She did this right after Dad died. She’s going to be cremated and her ashes will be scattered close to where she scattered my Dad’s. She said she wanted to be close to him. My sister is going to scatter her ashes under the apple trees that dad planted shortly before he died. It’s also where there are rose bushes planted. She’d like that.

Her services will be at the Webber Hill funeral home in Wabeno, Wisconsin. Just like Dad’s. I know her and Dad will be happy to be together once more if that’s what happens in the afterlife. I like to think so. If anyone would like to send a card, please email me or contact me through my contact page and I will give you the address to send them to. Since my mom enjoyed all the wonderful birthday cards last year, I know she would get a kick out of these. My sister says she will set up a board at her services with all the cards tacked on.

As for the title of this post ‘She Giggled at the word Vagina’, there is a story to this. Years ago my dad or someone else (this part I’m fuzzy at) told her a joke about vaginas. She thought it was hilarious and she laughed and giggled. Anytime after that if someone just mentioned the word vagina she would throw up her hands and go “Oh! Hahahahahah.” She just thought the word itself was so funny and it never failed to make her giggle and laugh like a schoolgirl. It was fun to see and hear.

That’s what I remember the best….that laugh. That special laugh.

 

 

 

Posted in His Days (about the husband), Monday Meeting, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life

Monday Meeting ~~ May 2, 2016

Hello, People! It’s been a while since I posted a Monday Meeting. I haven’t been posting much at all the last few months. I’ll tell you why later during the meeting. So, let’s begin shall we?

 

Monday Meeting

 

Grab yourself something to drink. A cold one, a hot one, a wet one or a dry one. Your choice. Maybe even a snack. After all, it’s virtual and doesn’t cost me anything. Not that I wouldn’t supply the drinks and snacks if it was real, I would. I may be poor but I’m not cheap. Anyway, I digress.

Let’s get started with news on the husband. I wish I could say I have good news. Not sure if I do. His health is not getting better. Sometimes I think it’s getting worse, or that just might be because I’m exhausted. I don’t know anymore.

He’s been having bad reactions to the chemo lately. The last couple of months he’s had to stop his chemo drugs as they were making him throw up. We talked to his cancer crew at the Cancer Clinic last month and they said to just keep trying to take the chemo. They also said that if he starts throwing up again, to stop taking them, as they didn’t want to damage his kidneys. They have him on anti-nausea pills but he still throws up. It is so hard seeing him seemingly get worse from drugs that are supposed to make him better.

I did get a chance to read his medical reports and the cancer doctor did state in them that it would surprise him if the husband would be able to tolerate the high dose he’s on. Well, guess what Doc? He can’t!

We will be talking to the cancer crew on Thursday. Hopefully, he will/can get a lower dose. If not, I think the husband will just stop the chemo altogether. He’s talked about it. Of course, he’s talked about wanting to die again too. He’s just in so much pain.

Good news front….I think it’s good news. I’m still waiting to see if it is or not. The husband got accepted to AISH…finally! After three years of trying. AISH is a government benefit program for people who are termed disabled and unable to work because of health reasons. Getting on AISH is a big deal to us, as it means a little more money every month and better medical coverage. It also could mean that the husband could get bars put in the shower to help him get in and out (we can’t afford them). He could also get other help. I’m kind of in limbo about how I feel about it all.

All the reams of paperwork I did on that for three years or more. It was a lot. Governments are the same everywhere. I think it’s just too soon to celebrate as all we have had so far is a phone call. I’m waiting for the official paperwork.

I’ve also had bad news about my mother. She was in the hospital for a few days a couple of weeks ago. She fell at home and couldn’t get back up. Her legs just failed. Thankfully she didn’t break anything but she is now having to use a walker and have someone live with her. My sister has been staying with her most of the time. I don’t know how long that will last as my sister has a family of her own. For now, my brother-in-law is holding down the fort. My mother also has ‘bleeding intestines’.

When I asked her what that meant, she said the small blood vessels in her intestines are weak and will break. The doctors told her there is nothing they can do and that for now the blood vessels stop bleeding on their own. My mother will turn 87 this year. I’m scared for her.

Gee, can things get any more bleak? I guess I shouldn’t ask that, as things always can get worse. Sigh.

I’m tired. I’m more than tired. I’m wiped. I also think the husband and I have matching ulcers. Fun times in Canada folks. I guess I shouldn’t complain, I still wake up every morning, I can still walk on my own, I can still do things for myself.

Count your blessings my friends. Count your blessings.

Because I’m so exhausted I haven’t been posting much. I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been doing a lot of things. I do what I have to and not much more. I just can’t. The grass outside is getting taller and thicker and I can’t cut it. I just can’t. So now I have to find someone who will, for free or next to nothing. The house inside looks a mess. The floors need vacuuming and scrubbing. The cobwebs from the winter need dusting and a million other things need to get done. Yet, it just sits there.

I care, yet, I don’t care.  I don’t have the energy to do something about it. I’m just trying to get through the days.

Wow, this post is a bit of a downer, eh? So I better finish it. Better days are coming……..

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday Whatever!

My friend Mer over at Knocked over by a feather did this 50 list post where she posted 50 little things about herself most people wouldn’t know. I told her I was going to steal the idea. So here I am….stealing. 😉

I’m not sure what I could possibly tell you that might be interesting or that you might want to know. ha! Goodness, most of you that have been here for a while know a lot about me already but I will try to come up with something new.

 

download

 

  1. I never drank coffee until I was in my late twenties. I loved the smell of brewing coffee back then but hated the taste.
  2. I started smoking cigarettes at the age of nine. Stopped on and off throughout the years, finally quit for good in 2007.
  3. I’m allergic to spider webs. Not the spiders themselves. To their webs. They secrete a protein when they make their webs and that’s what I’m allergic to. I get red itchy welts wherever my flesh has touched one.
  4. I almost got fired from my first job because I refused to give to the Salvation Army. I had read an article back then that stated the donations we gave mostly went to pay salaries of their Board of Directors than to actually helping people. So on principle, I refused to give. My supervisor tried to blackmail me into giving as I was the only one in my department that didn’t give. I dared them to fire me. They didn’t.
  5. I kissed a girl. I was young and wanted to know what it was like.
  6. I use sarcasm as a shield so no one knows how shy I really am.
  7. I don’t wear jewelry. Ever.
  8. I’ve never been baptised. My parents didn’t believe in teaching us kids any one particular religion. They told us to explore. So I did. I have been to lots of different churches. Even Jehovah Witness’. I have come to my own way of believing which leans more toward Wicca and Native American.
  9. I once lived with my ex, his girlfriend, and her daughter because I had nowhere else to live. It only lasted a couple of months before they moved out while I was at work. With all my stuff. Except my clothes, bed, one chair and a tv tray.
  10. My favorite vegetable is asparagus. (Mer and I have great taste!)
  11. The vegetable I hate is peas. With lima beans right there with it.
  12. I’m allergic to beets.
  13. I went through menopause in my early 30’s and would lose my temper so badly that all I could see literally was red. It scared me, then depressed me.
  14. I had an affair with a married man.
  15. I had nightmares for a month after seeing the movie ‘The Exorcist’.  Yes, I read the book too. To this day, I don’t watch horror movies. Or read horror books.
  16. I have never broken a bone.
  17. When I was a teenager I developed ulcers because of my mom. We had a tumultuous relationship.
  18. I love lemons.
  19. I taught myself to type. I now type over 60 wpm.
  20. I hate talking on the telephone and will avoid it whenever possible.
  21. My two best friends are ladies I have never met in person but I know I could tell them anything without them judging me. I trust them.
  22. I never wanted kids.
  23. I never wanted to get married.
  24. Both marriages came about because I was ‘pushed’ into them. Otherwise, I would  have been quite content just living with them without the paperwork.
  25. I have never been on a motorcycle.
  26. I am the only one in my immediate family who has attended a college.
  27. I taught myself to paint.
  28. I used to sell my hand painted items in the Dallas Market Center. 
  29. I never tried pot until I was in my late 40’s. Didn’t try it again.
  30. I’m scared of the dark
  31. I haven’t had my hair cut since 2006.
  32. I used to faint at the sight of needles. Now I’m a diabetic. Karma sucks sometimes.
  33. I am a food addict.
  34. I have never seen a Stars Wars film
  35. I have never read a Harry Potter book
  36. I don’t like chick films
  37. I always wished I looked more like my Native American mother than my German father
  38. I still resent my family for not telling me my dad died until months after, nor letting me say good-bye
  39. I love Mexican food and wish someone would smuggle some to me.
  40. I never wear long sleeve shirts
  41. I hate sweaters
  42. I always wanted to own a mastiff dog
  43. or a pet dragon
  44. I lost all my body hair (except on my head and face) more than 20 years ago
  45. I haven’t shaved my legs or armpits since because of it, I haven’t had to as no hair grows there
  46. I’m not afraid of dying, I’m afraid of HOW I will die
  47. Nothing shocks me anymore, lived too much, seen too much
  48. I have never had a birthday party and I’m going to be 61
  49. I don’t mind getting older anymore (I used to!) because now I can say whatever I want and get away with it.
  50. Someone sent me my ex’s Facebook page last week…..yup, I looked

 

Whew!!
Whew!!

 

Some of this might come as a surprise. I hope I have given you some new stuff about me that you didn’t know before. For some of you new people it gives you a chance to know me more than you probably wish. ha!

Maybe some of you feel inspired to do a list of your own. Let me know if you do!

Thanks Mer for the idea! ❤

 

 

Posted in Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday Whatever!

Hello, People. I do hope everyone is having a good week. If you aren’t, I hope it gets better.

google

 

I saw the picture above as I was doing a bit of research for something else. As I read the question, I laughed, then got just a bit sad and I’ll tell you why.

How would you answer that question? Who knows you better? Google or your next door neighbors. My answer…..Google. Yeah, big brother Google knows me a lot more than my neighbors and that’s a bit sad and a bit scary.

Why is it sad? Because it’s come to the point people don’t trust other people. Really, think about it. When I was a kid, I remember my mom being friends with the neighbors. They’d come over for coffee, or she would go over to their homes for a few hours. They would sit and talk about families, the weather, health problems, or just plain gossip about the other neighbors. That’s how it was done. They were friends. We exchanged Christmas presents. We had them over for meals. My parents and the neighbors would go out for a few beers together at the neighborhood bar. Us kids would play with their kids. We knew each other.

Now? I nod or smile at my neighbors in passing. I don’t know their names or anything about them. And they don’t know me. Times have changed. I have. Probably, a bit of both.

That’s how it’s been most of my adult years. I don’t know my neighbors and most times I’m quite happy with that. Maybe if I would have had kids it would be/been different. I don’t know. Kids have a way of bringing people together.

Then I thought of some of the neighbors I did have. Not knowing them might have been the best thing for me. ha! I remember when my BFF and I moved into our first apartment away from home. We were young, naive and full of life. We were on our own for the first time! What a heady feeling. Our neighbor was this weird married guy. He would make sure he was outside, no matter the weather when my friend and I would come home from work. He would wave and smile and say hi. If we sat outside in the summer to get a tan, there he was sitting on his stoop next door watching us. It got so bad it was like he was stalking us, so we moved.

Then I remembered the neighbor I had when I first moved in with the ex. A kindly old man who looked after his bed-ridden wife of fifty years. I thought he was a harmless old man until one day I was home alone and went outside and the old man propositioned me over the fence. The conversation started innocently enough. We talked about his old dog, our dogs, his wife and her condition. Then he says…..’I love my wife. We’ve been married for a long time, had a few kids together and I nurse her now through her declining years. But…..a man has needs. Even an old man like me has needs and the wife can’t help me with those needs. But, maybe you can. We don’t have to let my wife know, or your man know anything. We’d just have sex on the quiet. You’d enjoy it. I may be old but I got some moves.’ Then he winked at me.

I thought he was joking and laughed it off. Until he asked me a few days later if I thought over his plan and when could we start having sex. Um, no…..that’s when I knew he meant it. It got to the point if I was home alone, I looked out the windows to make sure he wasn’t around before I went out. He never did stop asking until we moved.

I’ve had a few other strange or downright crazy neighbors, so maybe being friendly was not the way to be.

Now, Google knows me much better. I don’t even know my neighbors names and I’ve lived here for almost four years. I’m ok with that. They seem ok with that. The husband knows the two ladies across the way by name and has talked with them quite a bit. I like keeping to myself. I’m a hermit at heart.

But, Google? Google knows my name, age, address and probably my phone number. It knows where I am on the internet, whether it be twitter, Facebook or other places. It knows what illness’ I have or had as I’ve Googled them. It keeps track of EVERYTHING! Like I said….big brother. You can erase things off the internet….but it’s too late. Once you type something in…..it’s in to stay. And then you can google it.

Have you ever Googled yourself? Try it. It will scare the shit out of you to see how much Google knows about you. (*cue eerie music*)

 

 

 

 

Posted in His Days (about the husband), nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, Wednesday Whatever!, writing

Wednesday Whatever!

Hello, People!

Wednesday

 

Today’s post is going to be a bit of a catch-up. I don’t know how many of you noticed but I haven’t been around much lately. There’s a very good explanation for that. There is actually two reasons for me not being around, one, is good, the other not so good.

The first reason being the husband. He is back in the hospital. Monday morning at 4 a.m.  I had to call an ambulance for him as he was in so much pain he thought he was dying, or wished he was dying. That was a very long day. I did manage to have my first ambulance ride in the FRONT of the ambulance. I’ve had a couple of rides in the back. Riding in the front passenger seat was interesting. Especially at four thirty in the morning. No traffic for one and I saw a couple of coyotes crossing the highway.

Anyway, getting back to the husband. In the emergency room the husband was in terrible pain and throwing up. He couldn’t even keep water down. At first, they thought it was his appendix. They took blood and found he had an infection…..somewhere. More tests were ordered. I was there from 4:30 until almost noon. I had to go home and take my insulin and meds, so I left him there as the emergency doctor told me they would be keeping him for a while yet.

I waited at home for the husband to call me…..with no call. I waited….and waited…and waited. Tried to take a nap, but worry kept me from that. I finally called the hospital at around 6 p.m. They told me they were keeping him and transferring him to a regular room. They gave me the floor he would be on so I called the floor nurses desk. They told me …. yes he was in the room but sedated for now and that I could talk to him later.

The husband finally called me about forty-five minutes later. Seems it wasn’t his appendix after all. It was his colon. It was infected and had a blockage. So they were keeping him for a few days, he wasn’t to have anything to drink or eat until they rid him of his blockage and knew he would be ok. I told him I would come and see him in the morning. Which I did. Just in time for me to have to step out of the room while they gave him an enema. Yeah, I know….too much information. Sorry.

Anyway, to keep a long story short. He is supposed to be home sometime this afternoon. Unless they change their minds. Poor guy was so hooked up to so many things he could hardly move. But, at least, he’s alive and he doesn’t need surgery. So far. He’s had it rough the last few months.

The second reason I haven’t been around much is that I’m writing a new book. I had this character keeping me awake at night. I don’t need some character keeping me awake, as I don’t sleep very good as it is. She insisted I put away Dee and Tee away for a while and write her story. She almost dictated what I’ve been writing. So, I am working on a new book. It’s a bit of a continuing story of a short story I did on here about three years ago. It was called ‘The Arsonist’. Some of you might remember it.

The book is going to tell the story of how a girl/woman turned out to be an arsonist for hire. Why she sets fires, how it makes her feel and why she wants to stop. It’s going to be about how she’s not really a bad person, even though she sets fires. How she wants to stop, but can’t. And how one man is on the hunt for her, finally tracks her down and what happens between them and more importantly what happens to her. I think it’s a mixture of psychological suspense with a touch of romance. I’ll keep you updated on the book(s).

I’ve fallen so far behind in my reading and blogs and stuff. But, I’m still around. You can’t get rid of me that easily. So, see you next time!

 

 

PS….A quick update since I wrote this post. The husband will have to stay in the hospital for now. I just received a phone call from him. He told me he has had a bit of a set back. He tried to eat some soup and it didn’t go too well. He’s in severe pain again and can’t keep anything down. So for now he is where he needs to be. Keep him in your thoughts if you will. Thank you. 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday Whatever!

Hello, People!

Today I want to talk about doctors. The good, the bad and the terrible. Doctors, for the most part, are fine individuals. They are wanting to do good, to help people. They spend years and years studying to become what they are. I admire that.

The last few months I have met a lot of doctors. With what the husband is going through, we have seen and talked to more doctors than I can keep up with. They have been kind, considerate and some are even downright funny. I also realize doctors are people too, just like you and me. They have a past, a family, friends, embarrassing moments. All of it. Even if some don’t want to admit to that time in college when they went to that one keg party and completely became inebriated and passed out on the neighbor’s lawn. Naked. With a stuffed purple Barney.

Personally, I have met some great doctors. I have also met some terrible doctors. Those are the ones I want to talk about today. The terrible ones. The ones that have terrible ‘bedside manner’, if not down right bad hygiene. Yeah, those doctors.

doctor-men-in-uniform-clip-art

In my many years of living I’ve met a whole lot of doctors. In my case, most of them were bad. Maybe not bad in being a doctor, but bad in being a person. I seem to draw the worst luck in that aspect. You’ll see what I mean.

Let me go back to the first one I remember. Way back in the time machine to when I was about ten years old. Just a little girl. I developed what was later found out to be a kidney infection. I remember it hurt bad. Terrible pain. Back then most people didn’t go to doctors. You only went if the home remedies didn’t work. Or you were dying. Well, I thought I was dying. My mom must have finally realized that, yes, I was in terrible pain and needed a doctor. So she took me to one.

We lived in what was called in Milwaukee back than as ‘the inner core’, which basically means we were living in the slums. Poor people lived there. Of all colors. My mom and I walked to the doctor’s office. My dad had to work and we had no money for bus fare. As for cabs? That was for rich people! Not us. It was like the walk from Hell. We finally get to the doctor’s office and it’s two flights of stairs up. It’s in an old three-story building. I remember those stairs because it was just pure agony walking up them. I cried all the way up. Slowly.

We reach the doctor’s office and go in. The doctor was the only person there. Sitting behind this big wooden desk. She motions us in and we sit in two hard, dark wood chairs that I think came from some school. The doctor was this tall, stately woman with short grey hair, wearing slacks and a blouse and no-nonsense shoes. She also had a no-nonsense look on her face. She never smiles. I remember that too.

She asks my mother whats wrong with me. My mother tells her. She looks at me and frowns and asks to come over to her and show her where it hurts. So that’s what I do. Scared to death I was. She was formidable. The doc sends me back to my chair and starts asking my mom a bunch of questions. Both my mom and I finally realize where the doctor was going with the questions. She thought I was pregnant! At ten years old!

My mother was livid. I think that’s the only time my mother came to my defense. My mother puffs herself up and says firmly….”My daughter is NOT pregnant!” She reminded me of a banty rooster. I was proud of her, but scared to death. The doctor backs down and tells her that she would be amazed at how many young girls come in complaining of things and it ends up they are pregnant. Which was probably true in our neighborhood of poor folks. There was a lot of drugs, alcohol and sex abuse going on. My mother was a bit clueless back then.

Anyway, turns out I had a kidney infection. I was put on penicillin and got over it. That was the first bad experience with a doctor, but not my last.

The next one was a real winner. I was married to my first husband then. Young and so naive. I got pregnant for the second time. (I lost the first within weeks) I knew I was pregnant. I always did. We went to a doctor so I could get examined. Now I was a bit overweight that time. Not much. About twenty pounds. On my small frame it looks more than it is. I get in the room and was told to undress by the nurse.

I wait a good twenty minutes or more for the doctor. He comes in….reeking of tobacco. His white coat didn’t fit over his protruding belly. He examines me. Asking me a few questions. Didn’t take but a couple of minutes. He tells me to sit up and he puts his hands on his hips and states….”I can’t tell if you are pregnant because you’re too fat!” I sit there shocked. I try not to take too deep of a breath because the man stunk so bad.

He goes to wash his hands and as he’s washing them he tells me that maybe I should step away from the ‘trough’ more often. Yes, he used the word trough. Like a pig would use. I stood up. Got dressed while he was still talking about diets and crap and never said another word to him. I wanted to slap him. I walked out on him mid-sentence and never went back. Two weeks later I miscarried. Bastard.

Now this last one I’m going to tell you about was a real winner. I still shake my head. It was a few years later. Still married to the ex (but not for long) and was working for my sister-in-law. I go to work feeling tired and worn out as I found out the night before that my husband was cheating on me….again. We fought, he became enraged and well…lets say it wasn’t pretty. I went to work and a few hours later my face feels weird. Numb. The last customer looked at me weird when I smiled at her. Something wasn’t right.

I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My face was off kilter. The left side was weird-looking. I smiled in the mirror and only half my face moved! I pinched my left cheek and didn’t feel anything. I thought I was having a stroke. At thirty-seven years old. I called the only person I could. My ex. Told him what was going on. He came and took me to a walk in clinic. And that’s where I met him……the octopus doctor.

I go into the room and only have to wait a few minutes for this middle-aged doctor to show up. He looks me up and down and smiles a huge smile. He introduces himself and takes my hand in both of his and wouldn’t let go. He asks me whats wrong, I tell him. He looks all concerned and cups my left cheek. Alarm bells are ringing, but low. Then he says he wants to listen to my heart and lungs. Fine. Most doctors would.

He unbuttoned my first two buttons on my shirt so my cleavage is showing. He listens to my heart and lungs when I suddenly notice his other hand is resting on the side of my breast. Bigger alarm bells go off. I move just enough so that his hand isn’t on my breast. He walks away a few steps and starts writing something on my chart and asks me when he can give me a through exam. Huh? I shrug my shoulders and don’t answer. By now the alarm bells are deafening.

He laughs and walks back to me and tells me he would LOVE to give me a head to foot exam. I just try to smile and say nothing. He takes a piece of kleenex and tells me to close my eyes. Oh crap. I do it. I think if he does anything wonky I will deck him. Suddenly I feel the kleenex against my good cheek. He wants to know if I feel that. I say yes. A few seconds later he wants to know if I feel that, again. I say I don’t feel anything.

Suddenly what I do feel is both his hands sliding down my chest! I open my eyes and stare at him. He smiles and starts talking like nothing just happened. I couldn’t get out of that place fast enough!

He tells me I have Bells Palsy and what to do. As I’m leaving with a prescription for steroids he tells me not to forget about that physical!

diagnostics-161140_960_720

So yeah, I’ve had my fair share of bad doctors. How about you? Got any good stories? Let me know!

 

Posted in Blogging, Humor, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life, Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday Whatever!

Another fine edition of Wednesday Whatever! Coming to you from the windblown town that I reside from. Nestled miles from the Rocky Mountains in a low laying valley that the wind seems to favor.

(c) Jeff Swenson
(c) Jeff Swenson

It must favor it because it fricken blows every chance it gets! And I’m fricken tired of it! Ahhhhh, that felt better. #%$&*^@ wind! Yes, that is me speaking not so nicely about a part of Mother Nature that she finds rather entertaining, I’m sure. I’m also sure she will get her revenge in time. Ha! It was worth it! Take that Mother Nature!

As you can probably tell…the wind is blowing here today….and yesterday….and the day before that….and…..sighhhh.

I don’t mind the wind most days, really I don’t. I love a gentle breeze as much as the next person. Even in the middle of fricken January. But, when it blows a gale and hinders me from even walking or breathing is when I get a bit put out. Which is what happened today.

Yesterday I needed to go the grocery store. I put it off because the wind was blowing so fiercely that it was cleaning off my patio for me…and I didn’t need nor want it cleaned off.

Today I got up and it was as calm as one would like. Not a single breeze blowing. Absolutely perfect. It was even warm enough that it was melting the snow. Great! So I got dressed and decided to go to the store. I would have whistled if I could have, that’s how happy I was. I would whistle but I can’t. Not to mention my teeth might fly out. Not a pretty sight. Anyway, I got in my trusty, rusty mini van and tootled off to the grocery store.

The sun wasn’t shining, but it was calm and pleasant. I might have even smiled at a perfect stranger. I might have, but I don’t remember. Old age you know. I get to the store and amble inside enjoying the day. I push my cart up and down the aisles, just enjoying being by myself for a while. It doesn’t happen too often folks, so I was enjoying the novelty. I finally get to the check out with my few items and smile at the cashier. She’s a nice lady that often checks me out.

We chat for a few minutes about this and that and of course, the weather. We both comment how nice it was to have calmness after the terrible winds we’ve been having. I glance out the big windows in the front of the store and notice it’s still calm. I smile. I’m happy. I finish paying for my purchases and walk toward the exit. I don’t even mind waiting behind the lady that decided she needed the whole doorway to stop and put on her coat. Slowly. To tuck her scarf just so around her neck and pull on her gloves. While I’m patiently behind her just wanting to load my groceries and go home.

Finally, the lady is done getting dressed and we proceed out the door. At my store there are two doors you need to go through to reach the outdoors. They have doors on both ends of the store. Well, the lady in front of me goes off one way and I go off the opposite way. I go through the next doors to what was a nice morning into Mother Nature’s perverted sense of humor. The wind threatens to knock me off my feet while it steals my breath away. Literally. I couldn’t fricken breath the wind was that strong.

I hang on tight to the cart that wants to turn around and go back into the store. I push it to my van and open the back-end all the time trying to breathe while the wind rams my breath back down my throat. %#(%&^ wind! I get the back door open (it’s the kind that opens upward). I grab my bags and stash them as quickly as I can. Suddenly I feel this large thump on the top of my head. The wind had pushed the door closed on top of my head! Ouch! Dammit! I shove it back up and stow the rest of my stuff in the back and quickly close the door.

images (2)

I let loose of the cart for a second! Just a split second! The wind whips it toward the parking lot and almost into an oncoming car. I grab it in the nick of time while still trying to stay upright in the battering wind. If I could have had enough breath to curse I would have! The wind didn’t give an inch.

I manage to push the cart back to the store and walk against the wind back to my van. I get in and narrowly miss getting my leg crushed by the door as I scramble inside. That’s when I start to curse. In between panting. Not my finest moment.

I drive home and hope the wind is a bit calmer by the house. Yeah, who was I kidding? It wasn’t. If anything, it was worse. I get the back-end of the van open once more and the gate so I can tote my bags in. The wind pulls the gate out of my hands and drives a sliver into my finger. @#%^$*# wind!

I pile my bags on the porch, fight the wind to close the gate and open the house door. I manage to get the bags of groceries inside, fighting the wind all the while. I collapse in the kitchen chair and try to catch my breath. I swear I heard Mother Nature chuckling as I rubbed the top of my head and sucked on my sore finger.

#^@%#^$& wind!

 

 

How was your day?

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, postaday, Stories of my life

Happy That Last Year is Over With!

Happy New Year, People!

As my post title says…I am so glad 2015 is over with and gone. Whew, that was a damn hard year. Not to be repeated, please. A good friend of mine did a post yesterday, not about resolutions, but about leaving things behind in the new year. As I don’t do resolutions either, I thought it was such a good idea that I stole it. Yes, I did. I’m not sorry either.

She’ll forgive me I’m sure.

So I’m going to make a list of things I’m going to leave behind in 2015. Good riddance and hello 2016!

 

only one way to go....let's leave the crap behind us

 

 

  1. Bad health. Mine and the husbands. Mostly his, I hope. Yes, I want to leave behind the bad health issues we faced in 2015. We have a good chance of doing this. First, I need to get my butt in gear and exercise. I already eat decently. I’m a diabetic, I have to. My problem is I sit too much. When I’m not doing housework, dishes, running to the store, giving the husband his pills, making stuff to eat. Yeah, other than all that I sit in my comfy, old office chair in front of my computer and type, or read. I need to get up and move more.

2. I need to leave behind procrastination. I’m an expert at it. Getting better every day. I really need to stop that and just get stuff done. There is so much I want to do. Like, write more books. A big highlight last year was publishing my two books. (You can buy them from Amazon, just click on the books on my sidebar!) I have been working on a third book in the series but it’s been slow going. I also have an idea about another book, something different I want to try. I’m hoping to do that too this new year.

3. Financial issues. Yeah, like that is going to happen. I’m nothing if not optimistic. Last year really sucked as far as the finances were concerned. I need to work on a better budget and work on generating more income for us. This is always a worry. I want to worry less and produce more. Just not too sure how I’m going to do that.

4. I want to leave behind my insecurities about my writing. I received a wonderful email from someone a few days ago. They had just finished reading The Canine Caper and loved it. They told me they hoped I kept on writing. That was a wonderful email to receive from someone I didn’t know. Obviously, some people enjoy my writing, so I need to quit doubting myself and just write!

5. Thinking my siblings are going to change their attitude toward me. Yeah, I really need to give that up as they aren’t going to change. It’s been too many years of me wishing things were different and things staying the same, or getting worse. I have no idea why I’m considered the black sheep of the family, but hey, I’ll take it. I always did like being different. I have my friends. Even if some are faraway, they are more like family than my family. Just goes to show, blood does not always make a difference.

6. I need to leave behind any heartache. Yes, I’ve had my fair share of heartache the past year. Not going into details, but lets just say family is not the only reason I hurt inside sometimes. I get foolish dreams once in a while. Expectations that can’t be met….of myself and others. Through no fault of theirs. I let my guard down and then expect things to happen that don’t and wham! Hurt feelings. I’m letting that go.

7. Adulting. Yes, you read that right! I’m leaving adulting behind. Frick it. I hate being an adult sometimes. Just kidding! Well, maybe I won’t leave it ALL behind. Just some of it. I need to have more fun. Really, I do. I’m way too serious most times. I need some fun and frolicking in my life. Anyone want to frolic with me?

I’m leaving it at seven. I like the number seven. You know what I won’t be leaving behind? YOU!

Yes, I promise not to leave you behind. So come join me this year. Let’s have some fun! Let’s party! Let’s be friends……You guys are great and thank you for sticking with me this past year. Thank you for helping me when it was so very difficult for me to ask for help. Thank you for being readers, commentors, big-hearted people and most of all, thank you for being who you are.

There were some of you that truly were friends. You let me whine to you, cry on your shoulder, share my worries, help me buy a mattress so I could get some much-needed sleep, bought my books and helped me make those same books a reality. I love you guys. Now let’s get going on 2016!!