What's The Point?

What’s the point, I ask myself upon arising each morning with little to do but manage my pain

What’s the point, I cry, when my father calls to tell me another one of his friends has passed away

What’s the point, I murmur, after reading about the young woman who lost hands, a leg and the other foot to a flesh eating disease, and the other young woman who died in a car crash a few weeks after graduating from Yale

What’s the point, I wonder, on hearing more bad news from our world leaders

What’s the point, I despair, when yet another natural disaster hits our planet

What’s the point, I ask G-d, upon listening to my friend Ted (with NF) as he tells me he is in the last stages of his life (and is happy about it)

Questions with no answers have but one point.  To think.  To engage. To learn and to challenge our sometimes dormant minds.  I don’t mean the quieting of the mind after a stressful day; I refer to the chronic kind of dormancy that happens when we only ask “What’s the Point” out of despair with no intention behind the question for an answer, even if there is none.

But we act as though there is an answer; as though we are the victim of a Universe whose only goal is to see us, or I, personally, suffer.  A devious plan, perhaps, constructed by some evil that is determined in this goal of suffer making.  And when we let down our guard, it wins more than it loses.

So, instead of asking “What’s the point?”  Take a breath.  Say a prayer (for someone else, not for yourself) and wish the victim, whoever it may be, to be brave, strong, happy and as healthy as can be.  Practice this with yourself as well.  Marry yourself….giving yourself the same respect you would give a partner (which of course, you should do).

And start taking action when and where you can.

 And this is for you, my friend Ted

100

I wrote this a long time ago.  I've not been feeling very creative lately, and my mind is on other people, especially Ted and my father.  Again, I use this blog to get my feelings out of my body and onto "paper."   If I didn't have this outlet, I would really be a mess.  I am NOT suicidal.

Of course they believe me; they know it’s been said,

The pain’s in my body and not in my head

The tumors that live on the nerves on my spine

Are apparent on x-rays; it’s not in my mind

But the pain that they cause every hour, every day

erodes away everything I want to say

and as much as it hurts, no matter the toll

it doesn’t compare to the pain in my soul

The physical pain’s barely dulled with the pills

just as surgery isn’t an option, but still

I continue my search, even get on a roll

While I comfort the gut-retching pain in my soul

When some people I love don’t believe that I care

Or that I’m not present; it’s too much to bear

I know it’s not true, I don’t need a poll

Yet it hurts like it’s true, like the pain in my soul

Chronic pain, I’m convinced is the worst kind of curse

It knows no conclusion, it keeps getting worse

But people expect you to crawl out of your hole

In spite of the pain, and the pain in your soul

I try to act normal, and keep it inside

But the pain isn’t something I can always hide

It’s no demonstration, that isn’t the goal

When it hurts like a bitch, like the pain in my soul

I pray for the people I love and adore

I pray for the world, for a cure, sometimes more

I pray to find ways to feel well, to be whole

I pray for an end to the pain in my soul

Ted

I spoke to my dear friend Ted, today, who has a very advanced case of NF – related problems.  The list is too long to go into, but he is in the end stages of life right now.  His pain receptors are filled to capacity so no pain medication works anymore and he only takes small doses just so he won’t go into withdrawal. 

About four years ago, I was at an NF get together and the president of our chapter asked if I would be willing to talk to this guy named Ted, who lives about two hours from me.  We emailed for a while, then we spoke and have been speaking a few times a week ever since.  For a while, we spoke daily.  But as his health continued to deteriorate, it became difficult for both of us.  Of course, mine isn’t exactly standing still, and we have a lot in common.  The greatest difference being that I am still ambulatory.   Sitting and walking are hard, and my digestive system is as bad as his, but he is suffering greatly and speaks of nothing but dying.  He has been wanting that for several years now, and told me he would not see the end of 2012.  I believe him.

The selfish parts of me want him to hang on because even with our mutual challenges, we make each other laugh.  He is the one who uses words like “ghastly” and “demonic” to describe NF, but says it in an exaggerated way that makes me laugh.  Very funny guy.   We met only once, years ago when his sister was visiting from California and drove him to me.  It was hard then, three years ago.  And now he’s as thin as I am and can’t walk at all.   He has never missed a birthday of mine, has sent me the most beautiful cards over the holidays or just because; he’s an amazing person, a dear friend and will be missed greatly.  I am not nearly as generous when it comes to sending cards.  I do for birthdays, but that’s about it.

Ted is not only unafraid of dying; he has been courting it for almost as long as I’ve known him.  I do occasionally; most of us who are faced with what we are faced with every day (sick and not dying) think about it at some point.  It’s not bad or wrong, it just is.  And each of us has to decide for ourselves what, if anything, we want to do about it.  Do we act on it?  I am not sure I would be able to do it because I think I need to see life all the way through.  And the old Catch 22 comes up.  If there is nothing after this, what was the point of lying around in pain for what feels like, an eternity?  Who would I yell at?  For me, 15 years and counting.  It didn’t get really bad until 10 years ago, but it’s always been hanging around the corridors of my body, threatening, teasing, torturing.  On the other hand, if this little visit on Earth is just an entry into something else, well, sticking it out would be good advice.

Whatever the case, we each have to make those decisions ourselves.  And no one else should be able to make that choice for me, especially the government.

Fascination

I know I am fascinated with “other worldly” things because of my (limited) experiences with “The Other Side” or whatever you want to call it.  Helping that woman cross, my relatives who have passed, etc.  So I don’t doubt that there is much, much more than our little lives here on Earth.  

How determined is your soul?  And determined to what?  To grow?  To accept your fate?  To change your fate?  Endless questions and zero answers to most of them.  How frustrating.  Gotta stop asking.   You know those bumper stickers that read “Wag More, Growl Less” (well, I have one that reads “Purr More, Hiss Less”)?    I think we have to Do More, Ask Less.  At least when it comes to the big things

Just help someone in need, without a reason and without being asked.

Just be kind to a stranger for no reason because none is needed

Just give a little money, food, old clothes, etc. without doing it for tax purposes (not that you can’t declare a large sum; just don’t do it for that reason). Just try to go a day without complaining about the pain.  This was the hardest thing for me to learn and I have to keep learning it.  Our friends and family know we are in pain; there is no need to prove anything to anyone.  And strangers REALLY don’t want to hear about it.  Sadly, there is always someone in worse shape than you (the royal you).

I haven’t been writing much lately and I feel sad about that.  I just feel emptied out lately (in terms of thoughts).   A summer approaches and everyone is busier than ever, I dread these longer days of nothing much happening.  I read and watch movies until my eyes want to close for hours.  I try not to worry about all my body’s changes and keep my head above water taking one moment at a time, and I do okay most of the time.

It’s when I get to close to the perimeter of that abyss that I get into trouble.  And it’s been calling me again lately.  It calls; I don’t pick up but let it ring off the hook.  I’m on a “do not call” list but the abyss doesn’t care. (Okay, that’s a bad joke).  I want to hear a good old fashioned thunderstorm….clear out the negative ions.  We don’t get them in Western Washington.  I use to LOVE them when I was a kid in Minnesota.  I’d lie in bed at night and watch the lightening and listen to the thunder and it always lulled me to sleep.

And that’s about it for me!!

To Mourn My Distant Self

We with chronic health issues know what it’s like to be the patient, but what must it be like to be the sibling of someone who is chronically ill?   Or the parent?  Friends, too, but that’s not what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about growing up in a home where much of the money, the effort, the appointments and all else that is illness is foisted on one family member.  When economics make it difficult to spend money on other family members because so much of the resources are eaten up by medical bills.   Perhaps when the siblings are young, the dots might not be connected intellectually.   But as we grow older and enter adolescence and our needs start to change, resentment must surely set in.

Sadly, this resentment can last a lifetime and people may never even realize what it is that is making the relationship difficult.   So you must be vigilant in keeping tabs on your relationships with family members and address them as they arise, or you will be doomed to riding a merry-go-round (only not so merry) of arguments and misunderstandings that know no end.  Just a thought.

I’ve been in so much pain lately I can barely think, let alone write. I’ve gotten sloppy but my energy level is very low.  Forgive the poor writing.   But the sun has been out and it’s been warm, so I’m grateful for that!!!

I have had a lot of time on my hands and am scared shitless of what is going on in my body.  And I have started to think about when I was a much younger woman.  When I could kind of laugh off the tumors that a lover might discover while touching me, calling them my “owies” and leaving it at that.  I was lucky to have lived with just mild pain for many, many years and few tumors that anyone could see unless I was naked.  And I have been mourning the loss of that woman a lot lately.  I know that as we age, we all mourn the loss of our younger, perhaps healthier selves, but this is such a deep loss it takes my breath away.

This started because I often get in touch with “little Sherri”, my inner child as they call it.   So I thought to myself, why not my inner young woman?  My inner teen?  And she popped up just as easily as the rest of them.  My helpers.  I use to smile when listening to my elderly aunts and uncles and all the other elderly people in my life when they said “I feel exactly the same inside as I did when I was your age” But I get it now.  Because I am that woman now (well, 59 next month but I feel 89 most of the time) and I DO feel exactly the same on the inside.  My body feels like crap, but emotionally, the same.

It’s funny because when I’m out getting grocerie and I’m chatting someone up, I FEEL for a few moments, much younger.  People smile back at me but when I see myself in the mirror, I gasp and think “Who IS that woman?”   I know I’m not the only one who has those experiences.   And I know I’m not the only one who feels loss when having them.  And I know that moving forward is the only choice we have

Yet, I think time does not move in a straight line, going in one direction.  Time, I think, is circular.  We start out in diapers and often end up back in them and if we are unlucky enough to face a disintegrating mind, we end up forever stuck in childhood, or adolescence or whatever time our minds find comfort in.

And right now, I mourn her.  And I mourn the body I had before the tumors ran amok; eating away at all that is inside me.   It keeps me from being with people out in the world and from family celebrations.  My niece graduates from high school in June (valedictorian) and my 88 year old father is coming in from Minnesota for it.  He’s in a lot of pain too, from spinal stenosis.  I don’t know how he does it.  I only pray I will be able to make it.

Strange and Wondrous

The sun is shining.  At least, I think it’s the sun.  In Seattle, the appearance of this particular star is rare, so I’m not sure. And it’s supposed to actually get in the mid-seventies this weekend!  Hurray!!  I can watch it all from my couch!  Movie suggestion:  “The Sea Inside”  Javier Barden gives a stunning performance as a quadriplegic.  It’s in Spanish with English subtitles (and probably other languages too) and is fascinating, heartwarming and heart wrenching too. 

I write a lot about pain/suffering and how the two are not really related, except by choice (the choice being the suffering).  I know that’s harsh, but it’s true.  Right now I want to eat my words, I hurt so badly.  And my feet hurt AND they disappear on me.  The body is a strange and mostly wondrous thing….except when it isn’t.  When mostly, it’s challenging it’s hard to recognize the wonder of it, isn’t it?  Right now, I’m roasting beets (again) to put in my strange and wondrous stomach, which seems to be helping what ails me.  That and carrot juice.  Since I gave up fruit juice, I’ve turned to it because it’s low in sugar and is good for you.  And doesn’t taste bad if you add sugar (kidding).  I overdid the Miralax and have in the bathroom for five days.  Really a lot of fun.  The toilet paper people love me.  Now the gun is swinging in the opposite direction again.  It’s hopeless.  And would be funny except that it’s not.   But, you have to find things to laugh at or you’ll lose your mind, right?

I’m going to a new gynecologist next week.  I had an appointment for next week and they just called and said the doctor that I use to see only works with fertility patients now, and so sorry we didn’t ask you enough questions when we made the appointment.  So they gave me the number of one of their other clinics (mercifully, CLOSER to me!) and I called.  It took 20 minutes to get the appointment made, but its next week too.  I have a neurofibroma in my vaginal area and it hurts like hell.  I had it removed years ago but of course, they do grow back.  I have a very large one (that my healer mentioned) on my left thigh that was removed once too.  The guy who did it was a butcher and I blogged him.  He threatened to sue me if I didn’t take it down.  So you can’t complain about a doctor online or anywhere else, I guess.  Can’t warn people, etc.  It’s hopeless.

And I just got a call from my urologist.  I had called in a refill for something I take to help prevent urinary tract infections; been taking it for years.  Yet, someone calls me and asks me what the medication is, how you spell it, etc.  CAN YOU READ MY CHART??  It’s so hard to get up, go in my room, and find the pill container, etc., when all they have to do is click on my chart.   People are so pathetically lazy.  If I weren’t in this kind of pain, it would be no big deal.  But the people they have calling patients don’t know who I am so it’s a three ring circus with every phone call.  You have to go back to the big bang every time you talk to someone new.  SO FRUSTRATING.

Naw, we don’t need healthcare reform.  It’s just dandy the way it is!!

I’m hoping that it is nothing more than a neurofibroma.  Has anyone else had one removed from that area?  You don’t have to give me your name; under comments, just tell me, or email me.  I’m just curious.  I also have one in my left breast that’s been hurting.  But I just had a mammogram and they said it was ‘fine’ but I’m not really happy with the place I had it done.  Perhaps I should have them send it to the surgeon who removed my right breast when I had cancer.  I really liked him.  I only stopped going there because I wanted everything in the same place; it was easier, but maybe not so wise after all.

So next week, I take my strange and wondrous body to the gynecologist, and the week after that, the dentist and the thyroid doc.  It goes in streaks like that.  Weeks with no appointments, weeks with tons of appointments.  Wish they were fun things to do.  Oh well.

Blessings

Pinched

Still working out the glitches in my new computer.  Had a security breach, the time on my emails wasn’t synched to the computer time, and I want to turn off my magnifier because it keeps magnifying things while I’m working and there is no way to turn if off that I can see.  It’s got a link to an instruction but it doesn’t work.  It’s driving me nuts…..magnifies if I breathe on it and then I can’t get it to go back to normal and my fingers are nowhere near the keyboard or touch pad when it happens.  If anyone knows how to fix this in Windows 7 give me a shout. 

Between the new computer (and the $400 fix that worked for five days before the screen blew out) and I am feeling rather pinched.  Oh well.  Eating is overrated!  I thought my new, healthier diet would be more expensive, but it actually is cheaper.  I never bought much processed, prepared foods anyway, but now I’ve really gone over the top.  I have to say; I’m feeling better that way even though I still struggle with digestive issues.  Generally, I’m not feeling so sugared out.  I actually bought carrot juice the other day because I miss juice so much.  This has 13 grams of sugar which is high for me, but not by much.  And then there is the dark chocolate, which has 12.   Can’t be too over the top.

I’ve been getting awful headaches lately.  And the tumors on my head hurt so much it’s hard to wash my hair.   The fun never stops!!  On the bright side (and I do mean bright) IT’S SUNNY TODAY!   And supposed to be 70 degrees F. which for Seattle is downright tropical. It used to be that if there was high pressure in the area (as in sunny and no rain within shouting distance) my pain wasn’t as bad.  Not anymore.  Oh well.  The leaves just keep falling off the tree, and it’s not even autumn (I’m the tree in this horrible analogy).

I’m supposed to be hearing back from DSHS this week.  There is so much information to read and keep track of now, my head is going to explode.  I am very, very bad at this kind of stuff;  When I get a new computer or phone or whatever, I cannot read the instructions; I just have to do a “hit and miss” thing until all the pieces fall in place.  That’s part of the NF learning disability thing.  The non-verbal leaning.  That’s why school was so hard for me.  The exception is reading for enjoyment.  That I can do; but if it’s instructions of any kind, forget it.

I remember once, in about sixth grade, a teacher handed out this two page instruction sheet and the first instruction was “Read everything before you do anything”  And then it went on to list things like writing your name, tearing a corner of the page, drawing pictures, etc.  Everyone was busy doing stuff, and when you got to the end, the last instruction was “Now that you’ve read everything, ignore everything else and put your pencil down” ONE person did that.  Wendy Z.  I never liked Wendy Z.  Her mom purposely did not invite me and another girl (and 53 years later, she is still my friend) to Wendy’s birthday party.  She handed out invites to the whole classroom and ignored us

That kind of behavior is so unforgiveable.  A child behaving that way is hard enough, but the parent?  And it’s especially hard if you are ‘different’ as I was.  You feel ostracized as it is, and then you have this adult confirming you are strange to everyone.  Not acceptable.

So, as Ellen DeGeneres says at the end of her show (I don’t watch it, but the news is on right after) “Be kind to one another”  Yeah, good luck with that.

Karmic Growth?

First, Do No Harm (to my computer)

Well, after all the trouble I had with my computer and all the money I spent fixing it....it died.  It had nothing to do with the new OS I put in on Monday.  On Friday, the LCD burned out and I couldn't see a thing.  My computer guy said that ordering the new part would take weeks and cost as much as a new computer.

So, I have a new notebook.  I went with him and picked it out.  Now I'm getting use to everything so it may take a while to get the feel of the keyboard, etc.  It seems to have a mind of its own and my fingers aren’t as nimble as they once were and I keep accidently doing things I don’t want done and I have no idea what it is and can’t replicate it on purpose.  Oh well.  Be patient with me!

More Importantly

Not exactly sure that this is more important, but I’m watching last night’s episode of “Grimm”  I have no idea why I like this silly show so much; I think it’s because some of these characters, the “Grimms” can morph into something else other than being human.  That would be lovely, though I would morph into something good, not evil.

If my life here is truly for my spiritual growth, or Karma, or whatever you want to call it, then so be it.   But here’s what I found to be funny (for me).  When I fantasize about being dead and (hopefully)  moving on, I always see myself as being an invisible helper, like those who help me (in the background).  I dream that I can heal others with challenges like or worse than my own; of being able to do it with touch, or sometimes, just an invisible appearance to someone in need.  Like that old yarn about the guy who shows up to help someone with something major and life threatening, but is gone when the crisis is resolved.  Like that, you know?   And I get so frustrated that I can do little but lay here on my couch in pain.  I especially would like to use these superpowers on a friend who is physically challenged at the moment. 

Yet, getting a hold of the folks at DSHS, getting my disability, paying my bills, taking care of the gnats in life is a major challenge without anyone to help me is about all I can do, but I got it done.  My family was happy that I got that done because they are overwhelmed with their own lives, as is everyone else.

Anyway, I suddenly realized that having superpowers isn’t necessary to help someone else (obviously, but the fantasy persists).  I get feedback about my blog, and people I speak with who have NF and are challenged by it talk to me about those challenges, and I talk to them about mine.  Does that count, I wonder?  Toward my spiritual growth?  Will I one day be able to be that spirit guide who helps those in need?  Or am I now that person?

Medicare/Medicaid

After struggling with whether or not I wanted to go down this road, I finally had someone from DSHS come over and do an assessment of my situation.   It took three hours.  She was very good, and I could lay down the whole time while she sat at my table and fired off question after question about how I take care of myself.  She was really good at what she does.  It was scary for me to do, but I have no choice anymore.  When I first posted about this (here and at Inspire.com) some people responded by telling me to get an attorney if I was going on Medicaid.  I almost cancelled the appointment.

However, she made a phone call and told me that I would NOT lose Medicare if I had some help from Medicaid.  She said Medicaid would simply become my secondary insurance.  I was afraid I’d lose my prescription plan through part D, and of course, my disability which took me a long time to get and is my ONLY income.  I also went online to make sure that what she told me was true.  It is.  I can have both.  That’s good news.

She’s going to send me a packet of information and said a lot of stuff would be coming now… and she’s going to make sure I qualify for assistance in the home, but she thinks I do….I have to pay over $230 a month for 35 hours of assistance, but the total cost is around $700.  And If I had to pay for help out of pocket it would be a lot more than that….I checked.  And, I will just be billed for it.  I do not pay it directly to the caregiver and it does not come out of my disability check.  And after a few months, I get to keep what Medicare now deducts from my disability check, so that can go towards the $230.  So it comes to about 2 four hour days of help per week, which for me, is enough.  I need help with going to the store, cleaning and some meal preparation.  I didn’t realize how much trouble I had until I started talking to her.

She asked me good questions….I think people cheat a little because it’s embarrassing to admit you need help.  Or, on the other hand, people make themselves out to be worse than they are.  She also asked me some basic dementia questions…like spelling a word backwards, remembering the order and name of three words a few minutes after she tells me them…stuff like that.  I think I did okay with that.  But admitting I fell a few days ago, admitting people help me when they come over (they do) was hard.  But in the end, I THINK I will get what I need.  And as time passes, I may need more.  But I will not go into a nursing home.  Period.

She told me that in the 80’s more than ½ the people in nursing homes did not need to be there, but there was no alternative for people like me, who need some help but not the nursing kind.  I’m hoping and praying that things go well for me with this caregiver.  I get to interview and pick someone.  But I may get a nanny cam or some such thing, just in case.  One never knows, does one?  So if you have Medicare but need more help and live in the US, call your local DSHS office and make an appointment.

Other People's Pain

Today, I am writing for, and to, everyone out there with NF or some other ghastly (a friend of mine with NF uses this word often…he’s worse off than me and he makes me laugh when he says it because of the emphasis he puts on the word) disorder that leaves you in mind-numbing, chronic, intractable pain.   I know a lot of people live with the slings and arrows of various ailments, some not as bad, some far worse, than NF.

But until you know what it’s like not to be able to do the simplest things (like sitting) without wanting to cry in pain, with or without medication, if this is your life, non-stop, 24/7, if you can feel it escalating as one by one, you lose body functions, it’s difficult to understand, just as I can’t understand someone else’s challenges.  Pain is a living, breathing disease in and of itself.  NF is the disorder.  Pain is the disease.  And make no mistake, chronic pain is a disease.  But suffering?  Suffering is a choice.   I’ve written much about it in long and short posts.  I think I write about it in “The Choice” and a few other things.  My brain is fried today.

I just want to give a shout out to those people and let you know that I bow to the courage within you to keep going.  One more day.  One more hour.  One more minute.  And tomorrow, you get up and do it all over again, no?  Because I’ve thought about the alternative often.  I still do.  I fantasize about it, I tell myself there is no G-d, there is no World to Come, so what’s the point?   I’ve been here 58 years and at least half of those have been in some kind of pain from some disease.   I have had way too many to list.

But, then I remember all my other experiences that I cannot explain.  I’ve written about those as well.  My Helpmates, First Encounter, Ida’s First Hello.   Some of them have wowed me so completely, I just can’t believe there is nothing else.  And I don’t want to cheat.  If you have never seen that Robin Williams movie What Dreams May Come you might want to see it.  It’s not that great, but there is this wonderful line in it….I don’t want to give too much away, but one of the characters can’t figure out why another character is in “the other place” (not heaven…but they don’t say the word hell, they say “the other place”) and this guide explains that that’s where suicides go.  But she was in so much pain, why is she punished further, the guy asks.  The guide explains (and for all the books out there, I thought this was beautiful and made so much sense to me) that it isn’t a punishment….it’s that their minds were so dark that after death they still can’t always let go….so they end up in a dark place.

Now, I disagree, but I thought it was clever. I’m assuming that if you are that ill, mentally, physically, whatever, you will not be further punished.  Still, waiting  24 hours if you are having those thoughts would be highly advised…not to mention getting on antidepressants and getting help, too.  I know it seems despairing sometimes, but you need to try and think of it as your own life, something no one can take from you and you have to love your body no matter how it betrays you.  I try to meditate every day to Stephen Levine tapes.  Read his books, listen to his tapes.

And hang in there, everyone out there who struggles with issues difficult for most people to understand.

Blessings.

I know not everyone likes this song, but please understand I'm not trying to offend anyone, but rather, acknowlege my own questions.

KISS

It’s been books and movies and not much else so far this week.  Firstly, I spent  an fortune to fix my computer, and then found out the glitch I had had nothing to do with the operating system.  But it needed to be updated anyway so no biggie.   And here’s a little clue for all  iGoogle users….you know, the personalized version with lots of gadgets to choose from.

Well, they recently updated their look and for a while, they let you use the ‘old’ look.  But suddenly, I kept getting this weird error message about running scripts, and null whatever that is….and it would go away for a while….then come back.  And the last time I just couldn’t get rid of the dang thing.  So I thought for certain a new Operating System would fix it.  Well guess what?  The same error message keeps coming up….so FINALLY my spinal cord connected with my brain stem and I figured it out….the new Google look was the only page (my homepage) where I got that message.  So I went to just plain ol’ Google for my homepage and so far, so good.  So if you’re having that problem, that’s the fix.  So far.

And that’s my technical advice for the week.  Or month.

I’m watching this old movie “About Mrs. Leslie” with Shirley Booth.  Great old flick.  I realized that “old” for me is movies made in the 40 and 50’s….but Netflix is starting to call movies made in the 60 and 70’s as “classic”   Years ago, my niece asked me if I movie I was about to watch was “Old”  I said, “no not too bad….mid 70’s”  She looked at me like I lost my mind.  That is HER 40’s….yikes.  Can you say “I feel exactly the same way on the inside?”   I always laughed when I heard my mom say stuff like that.  Little did I know.

I’m trying very hard to just hang in there and not take on everyone’s stuff….lots of people have lots of challenges right now, and I can be there for them without making it mine.   It’s tricky for me and a lot of people, but it can be done.

And keeping in mind, when I feel like I don’t get enough attention from this person or that person, that whatever the situation, my journey is mine, and everyone else’s is theirs.  Keep it separate, silly.  KISS

Divine Divanna!

I have been seeing a healer for about six or seven years, right about the time I got breast cancer.  The first time I met her she asked me if I wanted to live.  I said yes.  I knew right then she and I could work together!  Her name is Dr. Divanna Divine.  And as the title suggest, she is divine!

She is a doctor of acupuncture, chiropractic (gentle only) and does energy work.  Sometimes after a visit with her, I am in worse shape for a while; dizzy, in more pain, off balance.   But it soon vanishes.  Yesterday, she did some work with my constipation (which she often does) and it was better a few hours later.  Of course, rain was on the way and my pain goes through the ceiling when there is low pressure (which makes you wonder why I live in Seattle, I bet!).  She is in Lynnwood, Washington if anyone wants to know more about her! 

Well, I needed a new browser on my computer because XP was falling apart.  I held out as long as I could, then got my computer guru over here.  Four hundred bucks later, I have a new look.  I HATE having to learn everything again, which is why I waited so long.  And it’s already been doing funky things and it’s been less than 24 hours.  

He is very good or I wouldn’t keep using him,  but as he says, computers aren’t toasters…they are very complicated.  He told me NOT to upgrade from Windows 7 to 9, which they kind of push on you; he put a block on the upgrade, but when I turned it on this morning, it read that I have been upgraded to windows 9.  Very frustrating.  But he called me and since I’m pretty comfortable with all things computer, he walked me through it and it’s okay again.  Even though he turned the upgrades and updates off, it went back on when he put the printer driver in.  But all is well in computer land again.  Pardon me while I lose my mind while writing this.  Now I have a different error message; the same one I kept getting that prompted me to spend 4 hundred getting it fixed.  Not yet.  When computers were first introduced to the masses in the late 80’s, I knew DOS.  You had to, unless you had a MAC.  Now I can do a few things but most of it is way out of my comfort zone, though my computer guy thinks I’m pretty good.  He’s just being nice to an old lady.  Well, I FEEL old anyway.

I’m in oodles of pain right now.  Probably because I missed “Bones” last night and can’t watch it for a week because they don’t put it up for that long …. Insane.  Most other shows are available the next day!!  So I watched “Smash”   The two shows I watch; Bones is on a different day and time every season so I lost track and keep missing it.  Smash is on way past the time my eyes are open.  But it’s good!

Okay, now let’s see how this my new upgrade handles posting this!