Brought to you by wrong answers guessed by random trivia players.
Started on Saturday, June 6, 2015 . . .
- Saudi Arabia is the world's tallest land mammal.
- Greece is located in the continent of Spain.
- Fresh kale is blue.
- Kevi Vacon is the name of an actor.
- Winnie the Pooh lives in Shermon woods.
- Oslo is the capital of Switzerland.
- The term for the distance light travels in one year is revolution.
- Crimson is a shade of blue.
- A rat is an insect.
- A comet is a children's outdoor toy attached to a string.
- There was a king of England named Henry Visio.
- Andrew Carnegie made his fortune in the opera industry.
- The original color of Yoshi from the Super Mario Bros. series of games is purple.
- Spiderman is a Disney villain.
- Bilbo Baggins is a character in Harry Potter.
- In the American English dictionary, the letter Z comes before the letter W.
- Roosters are used in equestrian sports.
- The country of South Africa is on the continent of Europe.
- St. John was the first pope.
- People who support football teams are known as both air conditioners and ventilators.
- A sundial is a type of clock that wakes people up.
- There is a Disney movie called Snow White and the 7 Clowns.
- In the medical field, gestation means both farting and digestion.
- Roses produce saffron.
- There is a saying that goes, "An apple a day keeps the disease away."
- A cube has eight faces.
- Carbon dioxide smells like rotten eggs.
- A seagull is a type of fish.
- The wisemen brought baby Jesus gifts of gold, silver, and pottery.
- Mother Goose wrote The Cat in the Hat.
- Ernest Hemingway wrote The Cat in the Hat.
- Ariel is a male Disney character that falls in love with Princess Jasmine.
- Lady from Lady and the Tramp is a poodle.
- Tom of Tom and Jerry is blue.
- Tommy from The Rugrats has the last name Rugrats or Rug.
- The wisemen brought gifts of gold, pearls, and diamonds to the baby Jesus.
- Superman either came from the planet Neptune or Saturn.
- According to Beyonce, if you liked it, you shouldv'e put your lips on it.
- Horse milk is made to make chevre (a type of cheese).
- Bactrians and dromedaries are bears.
- Tetanus is known as the Black Death.
- House cats are diesel powered.
- Polo is a sport that is played on the backs of either camels or ostriches.
- Lying under oath is known as either burglary or larceny.
Brought to you by wrong answers guessed by random trivia players.
Today, Briana and I had to go out to Westlake so we could pay for the car detailing (despite having to wait three days longer than promised for it) and get the car towed back to the Kia dealership.
However, with Briana making money at her job, she decided that we should stop for dinner (and I had to use the bathroom, so we really didn't want to be rude anywhere, and stopping was good for us). We stopped at this place called Jeanne's Bourbon Street BBQ. Briana ordered the sampler plate for us to share. She doesn't eat beef, so I got the brisket (just two little slices_. I also ate the sausage (a cut up link) because she found it too spicy, then I took one pork rib and tiny bits of the chicken and pulled pork. I had the baked beans and I took a tiny bit of macaroni and cheese. We each had a roll and then for dessert we each had a piece of cheesecake drizzled with chocolate and topped with whipped cream.
All of the food was good, of course. However, this is the first time that I've had any brisket that was close to my Mama's in any way. It made me happy and sad. It wasn't quite like my Mama's, but it was very tender. I think I only had my Mama's once or twice in my life because she was so sick that she didn't cook it often and then as she got worse, her cooking got worse and her ideas about cooking got worse.
However, when she wasn't so bad, she could make a brisket in the oven that was so tender, the meat would fall right off the bone. You literally couldn't slice the meat into slices because it was that tender. It was almost like a pulled brisket because of how tender it was.
I remember that and loving it so much.
It made me so sad and so happy at the same time. It was like I wanted to cry, but I also didn't want to cry. I'm still feeling that way.
Also, I'm still waking up with a very strange feeling and I hate that. I really wish I would wake up and feel normal. I want to feel completely like myself. I don't know why it went back to being this way.
I miss the me that was the me back when I was getting my first undergrad degree. My parents were alive. My maternal grandfather was alive. I saw people every day. I was happy and busy and had social engagements, even if they were mandated by school and school activities.
I do keep busy these days, but it just doesn't feel the same. I worry too much about what is in heaven. I feel like I have too much doubt even though I definitely believe in Jesus Christ and that He died on the cross to save me and all sinners so that they would have eternal life.
I worry too much about what this second death is at times and pray that I will not be a part of that.
Yet, maybe, that is when even the unbelievers are raised from the dead for their judgement and if they still to do not believe and do not repent, they go to the second death along with the demons and Satan? Maybe? I don't know. I'm not trying to teach any one thing that I don't know. I'm not God. I'll just say what seems to be what God reveals to me and still tell people to read the scriptures and pray.
Yet, I cry. I cry lots. Sure, I cried lots before, too. Of course, when my parents were alive, they were experts at making me feel horrible for not doing what they wanted me to do. My Mama was one that used guilt to get me to do things. My Daddy used rage and scare tactics. I loved both my parents and still love them both even though they are now in heaven, but it was not an easy time growing up with them.
However, I can also remember all the loving moments and it is really difficult when those are remembered because that's the feeling that I want again and I don't have. I don't have the loving feeling of when I was little and it was Christmas time. How we would gather in the living room. Daddy would have Briana and I take turns choosing Christmas records we'd play on the record player and at times he would tell us that he wanted to choose a record and we'd listen to Christmas songs. My Mama would come out with homemade eggnog (a simple recipe, not the complicated stuff - and of course, no alcohol in it for me, anyway) and some of the more modern stollen. We'd unwrap gifts. When I was really little, a lot of them were toys. As I got older, they would be more practical gifts, but I still loved them.
I thought I would get married and have kids, my parents would be loving grandparents, spoiling their grandkids. Yet, nope. My Daddy had his left leg removed below the knee in the summer of 2002. I graduated from college in 2004. I looked for jobs so many places, but nobody offered jobs. I tried to get into journalism (but I really didn't want to have to write obituaries and I don't know sports). I tried to get into Youth Ministry. I had tons of interviews, but nobody hired me. I think I finally got to the root of things because one place finally just told me, "You're too nice." They didn't think I'd be able to handle the pressure from people who didn't want Youth Ministry happening. The youth LOVED me. The pastor LOVED me. They loved me so much that they sent me home before I even got to teach Sunday School because they didn't want to fall in love with what I did even more. They literally told me all of this. I'm not making it up.
Then, Briana and I had to take care of our Daddy more as he would get worse at times. We thought he was just normally sick one weekend and he liked to be left alone when he was sick, so we left him alone to get better like we usually would. Well, come that Monday night and he was vomiting even water. I didn't know what to do and he didn't want me to call 911 without first calling the doctor and I wasn't thinking that I just should call 911. I called the doctor's number, but of course, it was the answering service. Briana tried to call 911, but he would really let her. I went outside to pull the van around to the front of the house so it was there. I didn't see everything that was going on inside. I was trying to do what needed to be done.
Briana told me that Daddy was arguing with her and with Mama as they tried to help him get dressed and get ready. They finally got him out to the van and he kept complaining about the direction Mama was driving to get the hospital, but that didn't make sense as she was going to the hospital. Anyway, we got him in the ER and he was saying that he was thirsty, but they kept saying that he shouldn't have anything to drink yet. When he got back into the ER, he was even joking with the nurses. I thought it was going to all be okay. I thought it would be another case of his blood sugar being too high. They would treat it. We'd be back home and I'd be fine.
He "fell" back as much as he could already being down and we heard on of the nurses yell, "Fuck!" (So, when you see that in a medical drama, it's quite true - they do yell obscenities when somebody has a heart attack or something bad happens. That's understandable, though!) A doctor came out and told me (and my family) that things were going to be okay. I had a friend who came and sat with me at that time (but she's since moved away from the area). She and I joked about how so many guys don't take care of their health. We were thinking it was all going to be fine.
However, while I was talking with her, the doctor came out and said that it was a good thing I had a friend because I was going to need one. That was an hour or less from when she told me that things were going to be okay.
I know my Daddy loved me. And I don't know if I feel better about him because I was there in the ER even though I wasn't with him or because I kissed his body (but that cold of death was horrible and I hated that feeling). Or maybe it's because he told me when I was young, "Nothing can be done about a heart attack." He told me this when my Great Uncle Elmer passed away. He had just been taking a walk and he never came back. They found him and the doctors ruled that he had a heart attack while he was walking.
I know my Mama loved me, too. After Daddy passed away, Mama, Briana, and I all went into buying a house together. We had a place to live. We still live in that house. It's now mine and Briana's.
However, my Mama was declining so quickly. For a few years, it was okay. Briana tried to go to Texas Lutheran University (TLU) in Seguin, Texas. It didn't work out for her, though. I wanted her to be able to get an education, but I am glad she is with me now. I'm glad she hasn't moved elsewhere because I absolutely hate being alone. There's something that seems to run in my family - from at least my grandpa to my Mama to me (and I think to my sister a bit, too - but I'm not certain) that freaks us out about being alone. It's more than just not liking it. It's a really horrible feeling.
I can remember the time that we were travelling and Toggle jumped into Briana's arms. My Mama was only "okay," then, but I could still enjoy times with her. She went to this neurologist, Dr. Dumitru, a bit later, and he told me that what she has was only like Asperger's. I thought that it wouldn't be so bad with knowing how Briana is. My Mama kept getting worse, though. She used to be such a great cook, but she had this idea of cooking chicken and rice in a rice cooker. That wasn't going to work. I finally got to somewhat enjoy some time with her while watching Good Luck, Charlie on the Disney Channel, but not for all that long. We watched it, but then she started becoming incoherent when I would say simple stuff to her.
There was a time when our air conditioning went out. My Mama went to grandpa to ask him for money to stay in a hotel. We did and we had Toggle, Niblet, and Woofles with us. She had forgotten her antidepressants one day and she was doing so much better. She had gotten up and she decided that she was going to take Toggle for a walk. That was amazing and I saw how much better she was without those antidepressants, but she soon started complaining that she was depressed.
There was one time at home that Dr. Primeaux had put her on Prozac as it seemed the Paxil wasn't helping her. That made her extremely violent and we had to call 911. She was wriggling all over the floor and the EMTs had to get this board they could bring into the house that would help them get her as she was even fighting this big tall guy that seemed like an oak tree. He was very tall and very muscular.
Well, my Mama got really bad. People would tell me not to write about it, but how was I to tell anybody anything? They would tell me that it was because it would embarrass my Mama. However, she wasn't healthy. I needed help. Telling me that writing about these things would embarrass her wasn't what I needed. She would dirty herself. She was incontinent - both fecally and urinely. I would be at my computer in my room and she'd start coming through to go to the bathroom (not use it, just to get to it), and she would be so dirty and stinky and she would fall on my floor and she'd sit there for two or more hours. I'd try to help her, but she wouldn't accept it. She would finally get up and she say she'd clean up her mess, but it was really Briana or I who actually cleaned up the mess most of the time.
Mama got so bad that one time she was in the bathroom and I told her that she had to clean up after herself. She said she had cleaned the bathroom when all she did was smear her fecal matter all over the walls, toilet, tub, and sink. Briana cleaned that bathroom while I did other things that needed to get done.
Her little dog, Niblet, loved her, but he was scared of her, too. He would stay with her in the house, but he refused to go with her when she insisted on driving. Of course, with her always smelling so bad, it was basically impossible for me to go anywhere without smelling bad after getting in the car. Of course, I always took showers and washed me hair, but people claimed that I didn't. I had to bring Febreeze in the car and people lied saying that instead of taking showers, my sister and I would use Febreeze on ourselves. I had to use it on my clothes, though, because the car smelled so bad that I wanted to make sure my clothes smelled okay after being in the car.
I hated not being able to bring my Mama to church when she was in the nursing home. I know how much she really wanted to go, but I couldn't handle that. I couldn't handle getting her in and out of the chair. There were some people at the church we were attending at that time that already weren't so nice to our family and were rude about how my Mama was rather than being helpful or even at least compassionate.
There were only a few people who helped like they told me they would and this was only after my Mama was in the nursing home - not when she was at home and I had people telling me that they understood people with dementia (if that's what she had, I don't know - but it seemed like that or some type of mental disease) even though people said they would help.
I was dogsitting and just house watching for somebody that I know. She just asked me to go pick up the newspapers and put mail in her house. Her dog stayed at my house, so he was always with people. It was a Sunday and her house is right down the street from a church that I attended on Sunday nights, so I'd go after the Sunday service to check on things. I was wondering where my Mama was that Sunday as I wanted to get to the service. I never did get to that service because as I was at home, I was called by the police and told that I needed to get to the person's house for whom I was dogsitting. I had to tell the police officer that I did not have a way to get there because I didn't have a car. My Mama had taken our car and that was the only car we had. The police officer came and got me from my house. I got there and was told that she had fallen and one of the neighbor's had called 911. The paramedic also told me that if she stood up, her heart might stop beating. She still asked if she should go the hospital. Of course, Briana and I told her that she should go to the hospital and I drove the car. I don't remember exactly what happened. If I went up to the hospital or back home right then. However, this started a long stay in the hospital and I was extremely worried about finances with it. She could only stay so long before insurance made her go to a nursing home if she didn't get better.
There was one time her temperature dropped so low that the nurses put a heating blanket under her. My Mama was so miserable that she didn't want the heating blanket under her. Even though the heating blanket was warm, she said that it was cold. She said she didn't want the heating blanket, but the nurses insisted that she have it.
I don't remember exactly what my Mama signed for me up in the hospital, but she signed something and one of the nurses commented on how pretty her handwriting was. However, that wasn't her handwriting. It was small and loopy and that wasn't how she wrote at all. It didn't look one bit like how she wrote. This small handwriting is a sign of brain problems. The doctors ignored everything I told them about this and other stuff I researched. I thought doctors practiced medicine and were supposed to look into stuff when concerns were brought to them, not ignore what people bring to them as legitimate concerns.
I wanted to get my Mama into the nursing home of her choice, but nobody other than that awful Lake Charles Care Facility on Ryan was taking people. I remember hating that place when I went there for high school. Residents were screaming and were in pain and people were not taking care of them. I couldn't believe how awful it seemed. When my Mama was there, it was bleak and dark and I was there more than I said I would be. One day she went up to the ER because she had fallen. She was in the hospital, but for only about a day, then back down to the nursing home.
Another time, I was told she needed to go up to the ER. I was so tired and stressed that I needed to rest, so I dropped Briana off with my Mama and I went home. I got Briana for school because I know I was at Sowela and trying to contact a friend about things with my Mama. I finally contacted the hospital and found out my Mama was in ICU by then. I had no idea that things would be so bad so quickly. I got up to the hospital and they had a BiPap on her face and IVs in her arms. The BiPap mask covered her entire face and it looked so wrong. I hated seeing my Mama like that.
While she was in the nursing home, I would constantly ask her about her health. She insisted that she wanted a DNR, that she didn't want any life saving devices, and that if she wasn't going to make it, she wanted her IVs removed. I hated making that decision. I know it's exactly what she told me she wanted and I was honoring her wishes, but it felt like I was killing her. I know I wasn't. However, it sure felt like it. It can still feel like it was my fault.
There was even an earlier time that the nurses kept trying to get me to get my Mama to get a PEG tube. I admit that I was biased and didn't want her to get one at first because I was afraid she'd do something horrible and somehow pull it out as she would pull on every tube and cord she had. One time she had even called me from the hospital and told me that she took out her catheter. I asked her why and she couldn't tell me why. She just kept telling me that she did it.
I know her death isn't my fault, but it so often feels like it. I feel awful for "letting" her die. I feel awful that I wasn't there to hear her last lucid thoughts. I was up in the ER with her. Briana and I sang songs and prayed. We talked to her. We told her that we love her. I still love her. Love doesn't stop just because a person passed away. I know that.
Even before all of this, she would make me sleep in her bedroom with her. I didn't think about it at first. I thought, "Oh, there's just so much junk in my room from trying to move into this house that this makes sense right now." I didn't realize that she was sabotaging my room so I couldn't sleep there. She wasn't abusing me sexually or physically, but basically, it was emotional abuse. She was trying to replace the role of a spouse with me. She would often say that we were best friends and I did not like that. Yes, I'd admit to her being my mother, but she was not my best friend. Honestly, that is not healthy. What she wanted was not healthy. It wasn't that she wanted something sexual, but she wanted that confidant that should be in a spouse and she tried to make me have that role. However, there were times nearing when she was going to be in the hospital that she would wake up and tell me, "I saw Daddy." I would ask her what she meant because I had "seen" Daddy, too. He would always just be waving to me and it was comforting. It was like when I was little and he would wave goodbye to me from outside the window to let me know that he'd be back from work and would see me again. However, when I would ask what she meant and even tell her that, all she would do was cry. She wouldn't tell me anything. I think, if she would have told me, that Daddy was telling her that it was time to go, I would've had much more comfort. However, I never knew what she saw.
I grieved and at one point, I seemed to have a vision of Daddy and Mama up in heaven. It seemed like a Christmas celebration. Maybe it was (why wouldn't they celebrate Christmas in heaven? It still all happened.) They seemed to be dancing and I knew that Mama was cooking something in the other room - so there must be some type of food that we cook while we're in heaven. My dog that had passed away at the end of the year that Daddy had passed away, Marbles, was running all over the place. He was extremely happy. I think the little dog that passed away less than a month before my Daddy passed away was hiding in a little kennel just liked he liked to do on earth. I asked Mama and Daddy, even though it didn't seem like speech, "Where's Cinder?" That was my Mama's dog that we had from the time I was born until sometime when I was in 8th grade. This question wouldn't have made sense at all if it was just a dream or something I was imagining. The answer that I was given (which I understood, but still didn't seem like speech, more telepathic) was that she was with Grandma and Grandpa. This answer seemed to make perfect sense. On earth, though, it wouldn't have made any sense. I barely knew Grandma.
(Grandpa passed away about a week after my Mama did, I think. I wasn't even told this by the woman he was with at the time or the lady's caretaker. At that time, we had a working house phone and the phone number was listed in the white pages and online. However, I was told by a Facebook friend who saw my Grandpa's obituary in the paper. Grandpa had always told us if something ever happened to him, to look for the green can. I have no idea what this looked like as I had never seen it. However, the lady he was with claimed that he left everything to her and that is what he wanted. I have no idea if this is true. She even got his flag for serving in the navy during WWII. The caretaker was very mean and said that she couldn't find our telephone number to let us know that he had passed. She also chided us on not visiting him when she had no idea that he wouldn't let us come into the house and she had no idea about all the stress and problems I had with my Mama. She was just mean about everything. Briana wanted to look in Grandpa's car to see if she could find any documents. Both the lady he was with and her caretaker acted extremely suspicious, but there was nothing there. I have no idea about all of this. I remember the good times with my grandpa, though, and I do miss those.
I was doing okay and then when I lost my little dog, Woofles, a bunch of grief came back. I was still able to get out and do things, but I was extremely emotional while doing them. Then there was the fact that Butterbean got hit by a car and the police officer who was there didn't even help one bit. What happened to helping and serving the public? This was at McNeese and she had slipped out of my hands and ran.
I got Radar and things started seeming better. I was going to school. I was happy.
Then summer of 2016. Briana was the victim of a hit and run. I was alone in the house for so long. I don't know why I didn't ask people to help me by visiting. That would've been what I should've done. I hated being alone. I only felt okay when I was able to go up to the hospital and visit with her. She was using a wheelchair (a big, heavy one then) to walk her dogs. A policeman came to my house and told me she was the victim of a hit and run. I was too shaken up and worried to drive, so a friend came and took me up to the hospital. Her dogs had come home and were hiding under the house. They came in when I opened the door to go wait for my friend.
The hospital would turn the entire phone system off at 8pm. I hated that because I couldn't talk to Briana at night. I wanted to be able to talk to my sister and feel okay at night. I didn't want to be feeling horrible at home. However, I got the second option.
Then, just the last few days before Briana was to get out of the hospital, I had a gallbladder attack. I went to the emergency clinic. They had me go to the hospital. A friend brought me from there to the hospital. I was given dilaudid in my IV and I think I was fine with that. I don't do well under anesthesia - I mean, I do okay, but I always feel so bad recovering from it after waking. When they removed the IV from the dilaudid, I seemed to feel fine other than being sore from the surgery. I was given some tylenol at first. I didn't know that the oxycodone I was given would have such a horrible effect on me. I was only taking half of my prescribed dosage as it was until the very last dose I took, which made me feel really awful. (Losartan, which is a medication for high blood pressure, was awful for me, too. It gave me horrible anxiety, like a buzzing from inside of my head out - kind of like the hum of a fridge and bee buzzing put together, but rather than hearing it from outside of my head, it was coming from the center of it and it made me NEVER want to be alone. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without having Briana come with me. It was THAT BAD.)
I wasn't on the stuff, but the initial withdrawal lasted a good six months. I was crying and there was no doubt that the DTs are extremely real. When those stopped, I still had horrible crying spells. I had this poky feeling all throughout my body that made me itch and that was like little needles were trying to poke out from underneath my skin.
Things got better in 2017. Briana and I even went to see the solar eclipse. We went to Nashville, Tennessee to see it. We also went to Madame Tussaud's, the Country Music Hall of Fame, and the Grand Ole Opry. I was even fine during the first half of 2018. I felt normal, even giving presentation on Theatre and Copyright law at Region 6 of KCACTF (that the Kentucky Center American College Theatre Festival).
In August 2018, it was like switch just flipped. Suddenly, I felt the crying spells and the grieving. I felt the needle trying to poke out from the skin around my heart. I also felt like there were evil spirits after me. I think that may have been. There was one night all of our dogs were on high alert and I heard scary noises and there was definitely one loud one that drove the dogs crazy, too. One of Briana's dogs was especially protective of me as well. They say dogs are more sensitive to spiritual activity.
Now, I still have all these crazy thoughts at times. It's still like with grieving, too. I start having thought like "Will we have books in heaven?" "Will I know everything that I know now?" "Will everything I've written be in heaven?" I pray to God that all of my writings and creations will be in heaven. I don't want to forget them. I'd like to know them more than I know them now, honestly. And I want my Mama and my Daddy to know that I wrote these things and to be proud of me for writing them.
I never used to have those types of thoughts when my parents were alive. I didn't think about it. I was glad to have them, even as much as I hated the things they sometimes did like using me as their go-between for complaints. If I spent time with my Mama, I'd always have to hear, "Well, your Daddy" and if I spent time with my Daddy, I'd always have to hear, "Well, your mother." Sometimes, I'd literally hear things from both of them within five minutes.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know who to turn to with this stuff. I just took it. How could I tell people I was going through this? I didn't want to make my Daddy mad because he scared me. I can remember that one time, I had to drive a car he had bought (as we needed one) home and at that time, I had no idea where I was going. I managed to follow him and get the car home, but he was angry about things when I got home and the only thing I could do was go in my room and cry because I didn't want him yelling at me for crying, which he would do. I also had to fake having to sneeze many times when he tried to teach me how to drive a standard. When we got home, I could finally go into my room and cry.
I know all of these is because of being in a dysfunctional family due to alcoholism. My Mama drank. My Daddy denied it. One time, he poured out all the alcohol from the fridge into the sink and she said she was an alcoholic in order to please us. It wasn't her truly admitting that she had a problem.
As for the antidepressants, there's so much in how I could see her decline, that I'm not even going to get into it. However I know that I don't want to be like that. I don't really like alcohol (I take communion and may cook with it) and I won't take antidepressants or anti-anxiety medications because I've seen them mess up too many of my friends and family. I also know that when I was in 10th grade and had bacterial pneumonia that the doctor tried to give me something to relax and all it did was make me jittery. Thankfully, I had no more than a day's dose. I think things would've gotten worse had I had more than that.
I have so many issues because of all this and more. I know that I do. I wish I could work through them all immediately and just get rid of everything and be the happy person that I once was. Where is that person? Why can't she be the one that is still here?
Oh, and I'm not "depressed" as in like clinically depressed. I don't want to stay in and do nothing. I want to get out and be with people and be among people. I want to talk and help others. I want to meet somebody. I want to marry the guy that God wants me to marry (whoever that may be). I hope I can still have children and want to have a family. I've read about this new treatment that is supposed to make a woman's ovaries start producing eggs again if they are not. I have no idea about mine right now . . . but I certainly hope I can have children. I definitely want them.
This is how I feel:: reflective
Friday night, Briana and I went to a local church where they were showing the movie, "I Can Only Imagine." Saturday, we went to a paper making demonstration in Sulphur. Afterwards we went to one of the Waffle Houses in Sulphur to eat.
Yesterday, I ate at one of the Waffle Houses in Sulphur. It was the one n ear the Jack-in-the-Box. The one worker there was really cute. He had this blonde curly hair. I hadn't had that feeling of, "OH, that guy is so cute" in a long time.
He had a tattoo and I wasn't a fan of it, but it didn't bother me. However, what really turned me off was that I saw he had th ose huge plugs to plug holes in his ears for those large things that I think they call gauges. Or is it gages? I don't know because I'm not into those things.
I wasn't sure of his age, though. I don't know if he was in that fairly normal 10 plus or minus age range for me or not. I just miss seeing those guys that make me think, "Oh, he's so cute" and that give me a good feeling.
There was a younger guy there, too, that was just a nice kid. Well, he wasn't really a kid, but he wasn't a legal adult quite yet. He pet Radar and Niblet. He also looked like he belonged in early Hanson.
Briana showed me the picture of the album with Mmmbop on it since she could bring it up on the Jukebox (it was fully electronic) that was there. He took a picture of the album cover when he agreed that he looked like them. That was funny.
And it is thundering right now. It was extremely hot earlier today.
Oh, and I need to get my lawn cut very badly, but how is one going to do that when it is always either really hot or raining, so people aren't mowing lawns?
I didn't expect this to get this long. I appreciate if you read it, but I understand if you don't. I needed to write and I needed to send this to people.
I'm just looking for anybody with whom I can talk or chat. I honestly don't know what has come over me lately. I'm not as sad as I used to be. It wasn't even really me. I was this looming sadness like something was just wrong somewhere. I see that a lot of people have had to deal with deaths of family and friends and I don't like that.
I still have my faith. I believe in God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit. I believe that they are love. I believe that I'm instructed to love anybody, no matter what they believe. I do think it is good for me to have other Christian friends, but also that I'm not limit myself to only Christian friends. I believe there's a lot more out there than what strict conservative Christians say. I believe in auras and God letting spirits come visit the earth. I can feel places that are much more spiritual than others. The Grand Ole Opry was extremely spiritual. I miss being able to go back stage at ACTS because that was one of the most spiritual places for me. I know that I can go to downtown Lake Charles and Reid St, but I'm still afraid of them saying that I was on their property when I wasn't.
I don't know why I feel so awful. It is difficult navigating earth without my parents. However, it's been a few months over ten years since my Daddy passed (a heart attack due to complications with diabetic ketoacidosis - he had Type 1 diabetes) and almost six years since my Mama passed. Maybe that has something to do with it. Maybe my body is remembering something with my Mama at this time that I'm forgetting. It is coming upon September 15.
I've never written this, and I know that I'm not guilty about her dying, but I can remember one time about how I was being extremely silly with her. We were playing around about the Ides of March and I kept chaning the month. We laughed about saying the Ides of September and a death or her death. I don't remember what it was exactly, but it was nowhere near serious. Fast forward to her being extremely sick and then in the hospital - and her dying on the Ides of September.
I felt really guilty, too, because I couldn't make it up there when she was sent to the emergency room. Briana tells me that she was able to talk and forgave me for anything and said that she loved me, but I was only able to make it up to the hospital when she was in the ICU. Briana and I sang songs that were meaningful to all of us to her. We held her hands and we prayed. I couldn't say up there because it was freezing cold, but it was the hardest thing to tell the doctor to take her off all of the IVs and life support. This was only according to her wishes, though. She had always told me that she never wanted to be on machines or IVs. (Let it be known that my wishes are not like hers - if I am on life support and IV do not withdraw that from me. Please keep me alive and give me time to recover. Only if it is completely certain that I will never ever recover, then, maybe, withdraw the support . . . I want to live. So, yes to resuscitation as well.)
And, honestly, ever since I was in high school, I know I've wanted to be a mother. I know there's adoption, but I've always wanted at least one biological child or my own. The way I was raised, I expected that when I graduated college, I'd soon find a boyfriend, get married, have children, and move on with life. That hasn't happened. I graduated and got my first Bachelor's in 2004. My Daddy was already having great problems while I was in college then. He worked on the campus as a Chemistry Professor. There were so many days that I would go by the Chemistry building and there would be an ambulance outside. I knew that it meant he was having to be taken to the hospital and sometimes I would drive if I had a car and other times I'd have to ride to the hospital in the ambulance up front with the driver.
I looked for jobs so many places after I graduated, but I didn't find stuff. It didn't pay that well, but I then found freelance writing jobs and I at least could pay my own bills while living with my parents. I was perfectly fine living with them and they were fine with my living with them (honestly, I don't understand why people look at it like it's so taboo - I think families living together is a beautiful thing - and very common in other cultures - and honestly, still fairly common in the south).
Then my Daddy got so bad and one night he couldn't keep any food or liquid down. I was trying to be so good and obey his orders, but also help him. He refused to let anybody call 911, so I went out and drove the van that we had to the front of the house so he could get into it. He complained about where my Mama was going to whole time which didn't make sense because she was going to the hospital. When they got him in, I was told that he would be fine. I was expecting going home again after him spending a night a or two. However, he suddenly just closed his eyes on the bed and I heard a nurse yell, "Fuck!" and then he was taken back somewhere where I couldn't go. A doctor came out and said that things were going to be fine. I called a friend and she came to the hospital. We joked around about how so many guys don't take care of their health. We talked about one of her relatives that constantly did stupid things with his health. Less than an hour later, the doctor came out and said how I would need a friend, so it was good that she was there. That night was not a good night. All I remember was being in shock and getting chicken nuggets from Wendy's and then being in a deep depression for months.
My Mama, my sister, and I decided to go in and buy a house together. My Mama, who was already "not all there' at times, as I had definitely seen her mental abilities decline (she blamed them on age, but she was only 52 when she passed away, and I know people are often brilliant way past that age), started getting worse and worse. I tried to figure out things and would go to her doctor appointments with her. I was told that it was nothing more than Asperger's syndrome and low blood pressure with her and that it wouldn't get any worse. However, it constantly got worse. The neurologist she saw, Dr. Dimitru, didn't even speak decent English and he didn't say anything helpful. Her General Practicioner wouldn't listen to me about how bad she was. He didn't want to listen to me at all. He also would adjust her paxil at any time that she wanted without consulting a neurologist or psychiatrist.
I could never cuddle with my Mama at home because she never took a bath or a shower, no matter how much my sister or I tried to help her. She was never clean and she insisted on taking the car places. I would try to clean out the car so it didn't smell bad and I didn't smell bad. It was difficult and because of her doing this, I would have to buy Febreze and spray it all over the car and all over myself. People lied and said that I didn't take showers and only used Febreze - as well as my sister. MacFarlane's pub was so stupid and rude and banned us from the pub . . .
One time, her General Practioner, Dr. Arthur Primeaux took her off Paxil and he put her on Prozac, and that made her violent. She was even fighting the huge EMT that came when we had to call an ambulance. That was scary. One day, she went to get a newspaper from the lady where I was dogsitting and picking up her mail, making sure her house was in order. I was going to go to her house that Sunday after an evening worship service because it was right down the street. My Mama later insisted I wasn't doing my job, but I had constantly done it this way, so it was the same thing. However, when she was there, she apparently fell and somebody called an ambulance. A police officer had to come get me because she had taken our car. She asked my sister and me if she should go to the hospital after the EMT told her that her blood pressure was so low that her heart would probably stop if she even stood up . . . so of course we told her that she should go. This started a long time of her in the hospital and scary times, too. She once called our grandpa saying that she was home alone. He called the police. An officer shows up at my door saying that my father called (so, of course, this is scary being my Daddy passed away) and that he had a report of me being home alone. It was worked out that my Mama was in the hospital and must have called my grandpa. It hurt seeing my Mama all shriveled up in the hospital, too. Her body temperature got so low that they had a heating blanket under her and she complained that it was cold. I tried playing a game that I would play with her - "Do you want a" and I would just name random silly things. I'd often ask if she had wanted a cyanide pill just to be completely silly and she was say that of course she didn't. However, that time, she said she did.
Now, that I am 36 years old, it feels like I will never achieve what I've wanted in life - a family, or at least children (or even one child). I know that according to many, I still have a good six years of being a "young adult." However, it just feels like with so many of my classmates having children that are already in high school or classmate that have littles, that I am not where I should be. I want that experience of loving somebody so much that I just constantly want to be there for that person. I've wanted that since I was a teenager.
I know what it seems God told me one time and what it seems another friend of mine who understand these things got, but it makes no sense because that guy is married to somebody else now. I and some others can feel her "evil vibe" even from her pictures. We refer to her as a Regina George because she does do a lot of good things and hides her nastiness from other behind that guise. We don't do anything to her, though. It's just our term among us. He's been married to her for something like four years, maybe. So, weather the guy is him or somebody else, that doesn't matter. I won't even get into all the problems I had with her, but she is the one that had me arrested for stalking and cyberstalking which never happened - and now people use that against me even if all I want is to ask people to ask a friend to contact me. Then, it seems like even if I have a boyfriend (which I've not had one since I was in college from 2000-2004, so yeah, that kinda sucks), that I can't post about liking him because of nosy people that make up rumors.
But, what I really need is a good job. That way, somehow, I can have kids . . . whatever way that God wants that to happen. It's important to me. I want to keep my family's tradition of passing down the piano and the vinyls to the child who learns and loves music (or just the child if there is only one). And you know how they say people can just feel when something is missing? I really feel like a child is missing. I feel like at least one child belongs in my life. So, if you pray, or whatever, I appreciate it.
I know that I don't write here all that often now. Most people keep up with me on Facebook. However, I am still extremely glad that I have a LiveJournal. Sometimes things are just better on a journal site - even if I don't keep them private, they just don't feel right on Facebook - not even in notes.
It's mainly just called "being female," right now. I know that it's hormones and such in general, but it does bring up real wants and desires and sometimes things just suck.
For so long, I've just wanted a family of my own. When a guy was interested in me, some other girl got him to stop talking to me. I didn't even know he was interested in me, either. But, we were friends. That ended many years ago because this girl got him to marry her. They "prayed about it," but I know she has her ways of manipulation, too. I'm not gonig to say what's true and what's not . . . I just know those things and what it is from my view.
When I've liked other people that may have had a possibility, others get in the way. They lie about me and tell rumors. I don't know if there's a guy or not, but that's not even what this post is about.
I just really want a family of my own and everything seems to suck right now regarding that.
It's very cool that I'm finishing up my graduate school and getting a Master's in Theatre. What's not cool is the bias I face as somebody who has to use a transport wheelchair (and uses a service dog) due to scoliosis and has issues with flashback kind of stuff because of the perviously mentioned girl. I had that, but it got even worse after getting off of oxycodone. There are still times that I don't feel extremely normal and I hate it. I think some of the problem may have been the side effects from Losartan, too. It gave me TERRIBLE anxiety. It was like a buzzing coming from INSIDE of my head. Like, if you could place a constnatly running refrigerator in the middle of my head, the vibrations would come from the inside and go to the outside and then I'd feel them that way - all the way through. I couldn't explain the feeling, either. All I wanted to do was wave my hands around my head and say, "It feels like" and expect people to know. I lost all words to describe how it felt. It was awful and I NEVER wanted Briana to leave my side - not even when I just needed to go to the bathroom. Just Radar as my service dog wasn't enough. Stupid medicines.
Anyway, the thing is, I REALLY and DESPERATELY want to be a mother. I mean, even if this is an open adoption to where I get my child, I want to have that mother's love. I definitely don't have a decent living environment to raise a child at the moment. I don't have the budget for it, either. It could be an open adoption. It could be that a guy and I am in love and live in different households, so the child lives with him. It could be that the child is raised by the grandparent that lives in the same or a nearby town. I'll take any of those as long as I get to be a mother that sees her child.
Sure, in general, I would prefer all the tradiational stuff - falling in love, marriage, having children - but I also know that I may not be able to do things that way. I want to have a child before I am not able to have children. I know there may be hope to reversing that for women, but it's nowhere near common place practice.
So, while it is trite and not as important as praying for things like cures to cancer and people getting better from illnesses and so many other things, if you pray, could you please pray for me that this does come to fruition. This really is a huge desire of my heart and God knows the desires of our hearts.
Right now, I feel like I'm worthless without being a mother somehow. And, honestly, being that my Mama passed away back in 2012, without being a mother and without somebody that's the father of a child of mine, both mother's day and father's day suck.
Briana is my sister and not my child, so there is nothing that's really the same there. I hate that people say she is my daughter. If there were true, she'd be extremely more respectful of me. I know that much. That's just because of how I would raise a child and how my Mama raised us - making me be the responsible one and always blaming me for things while she let Briana cuddle and get away with tons of stuff.
I just really, REALLY, want to be a mother, so badly . . .
I am concerned about my health. It has to do with "girly" stuff, though. So . . .( Girly health, maybe kind of ew, stuff under hereCollapse )
I did get a gynecology appointment at the SWLA Center for Health, but the first appointment that they had available was Monday, March 19 at 8:30am. I would've liked sooner, but that's all they had.
Prayers that my health is fine are definitely appreciated.
Please, come check out my "new" blog, Theatre Geekery
Of course, this is still my journal where if I want to journal about more personal issues that I don't mind sharing with my LJ friends (or the public if a public post) will be found.
Please come check out my "new" blog - Theatre Geekery
This is a blog, though.
LiveJournal is still my personal journal for where I want to write things like I would in a personal journal - but don't mind sharing with my LJ friends.
I wrote this early yesterday morning (so it was really still "Thursday night" for me) because it was on my heart. I couldn't go to bed without writing it. I posted it on Facebook, but I feel like it belongs here, too.
For some reason, this is just on my heart right now.
Why go to live theatre when so much entertainment is available in the home?
Live theatre (from now on "theatre") provides so much more than entertainment that can be found in movie theatres or in the home. There's a whole different aspect. It pulls you into the show and keeps you there.
While you may become invested in some characters or situations within a TV show or a movie, theatre brings you in even more. Of course, if there are actors, they are real in both filmed and live versions. However, you don't get to interact with a filmed version of actors.
Even when theatre doesn't have audience participation, the audience is interacting with the people on stage.
I've had the priveledge to be on stage, backstage, and in the audience. I've experienced all kinds of roles in the theatre.
As an audience member, the way you react impacts the way the actors act on the stage. They can tell when an audience is truly watching and paying attention to the action. If you attend performances of the same show with the same people more than once, you can tell subtle difference in the performances due to audience reactions.
As somebody backstage, we are trying our best to make theatre magic happen with whatever we need for props, lighting, sounds, costume changes, and whatever else is needed in order to make theatre more believable.
As an actor, I know I have definitely tried to elicit certain reactions from the audience. I was the sales girl in "Legally Blonde: The Musical" at a local theatre and I know that one night, we had a great audience reaction to when Elle has given Emmett his makeover. We barely had to do anything. However, the next night, the audience didn't respond and it didn't feel right. "Elle" and I motioned more at "Emmett" and we moved our hands and tried to get people to react to his new look.
This does't happen in movies or television shows. Take after take is taken to get the reaction wanted. Even if the actors know their lines, there is usually more than one take. They can mess up lines and laugh.
In the theatre, actors have to know their lines. If they don't, they have to be able to adlib on the spot and keep the play going in the direction it is supposed to go.
Go to theatre because every time you go, you are getting a new experience. Go to theatre because it will give you an amazing thrill. If you don't like sad stories or difficult ones, that is okay. Go to see live comedies. See the shows you like. Support actors that you like. However, go see live theatre. It is there that you will breathe in creativity and there that you will truly experience the words jumping off the pages of a script.
Enjoy the theatre.
It is hard to describe, but theatre is magic.
After church on December 10, the rector of St. Michael and All Angels in Lake Charles, LA comes to my car and acts like I am not an adult. He reprimands me and my sister. Of course, we've not done anything, but he feels the need to reprimand us. I was extremely hurt because of how he acted towards us, which was not like somebody who was concerned or like a pastor of a flock. Instead, it was about being strict and being a dictator and acting like he was my father, which was extremely rude.
I wrote an e-mail to him:
"If you need to approach me about how we smell because others are complaining, then that is fine. However, the fact that you came to me and said that you have to set ground rules was extremely rude. You ASSUMED that Briana and I did not take showers or wear clean clothes or wear deodorant . . . which were ALL WRONG.
I am an adult. To say, "I'm not your Daddy" is extremely condescending. It is also EXTREMELY hurtful. Our father died in 2008 of a sudden heart attack and he would've DEFENDED us and you would've gotten an earful. To TREAT ME as if I am your child is rude. Saying, "we have to set some ground rules" is rude, too.
Briana is also technically an adult. However, she does see the world differently as she has Asperger's (autism) and we have told people about this before.
Nobody knows why, but people with autism/Asperger's seem to smell differently from other people. I know this from being a substitute teacher and from going to meetings with Briana. I would walk into the rooms and they would have a strange meat-like smell.
Briana also had surgery for scoliosis when she was in 6th grade. They used skin glue (not stitches, not staples) to close the incision. Her surgery was covered because a doctor was doing a study . . . and they were doing all kinds of new and experimental things. This skin glue can have an odor to it and easily smells when it gets the slightest bit damp.
To be rude like you are without even thinking that there may be medical issues is not helpful.
You are right that you are "not my Daddy," and the fact that you act like it by the way you talk to me and to my sister is extremely hurtful.
As for Radar, I know churches don't have to follow service dog law. However, having people tell me that public places don't allow my service dog is not true. I don't know who was the person who decided at first to tell me Radar would not be allowed at the Harlequin, but I knew that was a lie because she's been there and they follow service dog law. She is a trained service dog, not just a dog that "I want to bring with me."
(However, MOST churches are kind and accepting of service dogs . . . and just so you know them, and especially the people that run the Canterbury House as ministries open to the public need to allow service dogs . . I talked on the phone with ADA for four hours to find out all about this stuff - ADA Requirements: Service Animals)"
He wrote back a rude reply. It was MUCH DIFFERENT than something he wrote earlier and seemed much more caring.
This time he wrote, "Sorry you were offended but the conditions remain. We are a community so we must have rules to follow in order to function. Those I mentioned to you stand.
To reiterate the 2 House Rules are (and these can be added to)
1-No Dogs in the parish hall when food is served (or ever-ever in the sanctuary)
2-practice adequate, regular, and thorough hygiene, particularly before church attendance. To say there is a strong odor from you both is an understatement. It is not only distracting for parishioners but undoubtedly unhealthy for you and your sister.
You must abide by these two rules if you wish to continue in our fellowship. The church has bent over backwards to accommodate you. Please don’t take advantage of the hospitality that has been extended. This is not the first conversation with you on this subject and it is becoming tiresome. These rules are not up for negotiation or additional comment. They are what they are."
Then on Sunday, December 17, Briana (my sister) and I get all ready (hair washed, showered, etc) to go to church and I get Radar ready to work. We get to the church and park.
The minute I get out of my car, I am ambushed by two or three vestry members and a police officer IN UNIFORM. One of the vestry members tells me that Colleen has been saying that I have a surprise for them on Facebook. I had never written anything like that. I only wrote how I was happy that Briana hadn't figured out the surprise that I had for her. I had never said anything about a surprise for St. Michael's. However, the police officer kept insisting, "What is it?"
Then they were mean about me having a service dog. They said that I could not have her there. I had already been sitting OUTSIDE of the sanctuary with her.
As you can see, this rector, Seth Donald, wants to apply MORE RULES to us. He doesn't do that to other people. He's obviously gotten high on being able to be a dictator rather than being a pastor and being a shepherd to sheep.
The church has NEVER bent over backwards! He is just saying that. There have been some nice members who have helped me out. However, the whole church has definitely NOT bent over backwards. Most of the time, I drove to the church and brought Briana. I would tell her to NOT call other people. It's like everybody who knew about her Asperger's completely forgot she has it and expects her to not have it at all and to act like the rest of them. Then, they expect me to change my past. I am not the person that caused these traumatic experiences. I can't help that a gal knew corrupt police officers and had me arrested on false accusations. I would sit OUTSIDE of the sanctuary with Radar (my service dog). My sister would have to take communion, then come back and hold Radar so I could go take communion, then I would go back to get Radar from her.
This was the best we could do, although it is preferred that a service dog mainly stay with its handler. Sure, there are times that it isn't with its handler. There can be times when the service dog is with somebody who doesn't mind watching the dog. However, that is rare.
And I have no shame in showing the truth.
The people who say that Seth Donald "isn't like that," are wrong because he is "like that." It is obvious from what he has done, what he has written, and then what the vestry did.
One of the vestry members recently died and I think he may have been the ONE person who kept it okay for me to have Radar there.
I know churches do not legally have to follow ADA law. However, it is sad that they don't or at least are not accepting of people who are differently abled.
I often wonder, what if a blind person who uses a seeing eye dog tries to come to St. Michael? What about a veteran with PTSD? Radar is kind of like that for me, but it's "anxiety" for me. My mind sometimes does go back to traumatizing situations that I've experienced and she is there to bring me back to reality. So many people act like this is not important.
Radar is also a mobility helper. I can move in my transport wheelchair, but it can be difficult for me at times. There are some difficult surfaces to move over and she also helps me to get over bumps. Sometimes I have to get up so we can walk up ramps, but I cannot walk long distances. Yet, if the ramps aren't terrible or too slanted, Radar often pulls me right up!
She's an amazing and strong little dog!
This is SERIOUSLY a "conversation" (not sure I could call it that) that Briana and I had with a guy named Dan:
Dan: I got visited by the Jehovah's Witnesses the other day.
Me: *groan/sigh* (thinking this is gonna be one of those, "Oh, what did the people who visited do now? stories)
Dan: Yeah, I forgot to tell you, I'm Jehovah's Witness.
Briana: I thought you were Catholic.
Dan: I am, but I'm also part Jehovah's witness. I signed up with them.
Me/Briana: That doesn't work.
. . .
Dan: Does that have to do with anything about JW's disrespecting the flag?
Me: No, it's just silly.
Dan: But, they say . . .
Me: It has nothing to do with that.
Dan: What about that thing with the JW's and football?
Me: That has nothing to do with the JWs.
Dan: How do you know? Haven't you ever been visited by the JWs/
Dan: And don't they try to get you to become a Mormon?
tMe/Briana: NO! Mormons are the Church of Latter Day Saints
Dan: Yes, they do, JWs and Mormons are the same thing.
Briana: They aren't the same thing.
Me: They are two different denominations.
Dan: Nuh uh. They're the same. Haven't you ever been visited by the JWs?
Dan: And don't they read to you from the Book of Mormon?
Me: No! They are two different things!
Dan: You don't pay attention then.
(This Dan was already angering me big time before this and now he was angering me even more . . . because we were supposed to be doing something different . . COMPLETELY different)
Halloween . . . (check all that apply)
is always in my soul
is just another holiday
is an excuse to wear slutty costumes
is an excuse to eat a bunch of sugar
is the devil's birthday
is my favorite holiday
should be made into a national holiday
is a time to scare people
means giving little kids chocolate (or other candy) to make them hyper
Have you ever been to Cullman, AL?
Were the people there friendly?
Have you ever been to Tuscaloosa, AL?
Were the people there friendly?
Have you ever been to another city in Alabama?
Were the people there friendly?
Without Googling or using another search engine or looking things up (in other words, after just reading the question), do you know what these things are?
The saying "Like white on rice"
The saying, "The devil is beating his wife"
Are the following things sandwiches?
Is a sub (aka Hero; aka Hoagie; aka Poboy; aka Grinder) a sandwich?
Is a chicken wrap a sandwich?
Is a muffaletta a sandwich?
Is a chip butty a sandwich?
Is a hot dog (one that is on a bun) a sandwich?
Is ice cream between waffles a sandwich?
Is an ice cream taco a sandwich?
Is ice cream between two cookies a sandwich?
Is a quesadilla a sandwich?
Is a lettuce wrap a sandwich?
Is it a sandwich if only one piece of "bread" (or whatever option you are using) is only folded over?
Which do you prefer?
Jessie's Girl or Stacy's Mom
Boy Meets World or Girl Meets World
Girl Meets World
Unicorn Horn or Dragon Wings
I was reading a post that was talking about Discernment of the Spirits. Some of it seemed strange, but there were other parts with which I could easily related. I left this comment:
"I'm not LDS, but nobody ever believes things that I say and then they don't even acknowledge them when they come to pass. I knew that somebody's mother had cancer. I left a comment on his Facebook page that was very gentle telling him a story about my grandmother and how she had cancer . . . nobody else did this. Of course, I was praying for healing for her just like the others were, but I was the only one to mention that. I knew she had cancer and I had only met her twice. I didn't like knowing that, but I knew it. I thought I knew it from the first time I met her, but who was going to believe me when all she did was give me a peppermint? I couldn't just tell the guy, "Hey, your mother has throat cancer."
I can't always tell, but there are some people that it is just obvious they will be in a relationship. I knew to not even pursue one guy when I was a senior in high school because he was meant to be with a gal in the class where I met him. I liked both of them, too, so it was a happy thing for me to witness. Then, I met a guy and a gal once for Nanowrimo. It was the first time that they had ever met, but when I walked into where we met, I got the feeling that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. I never said anything, but eventually, they did get together."
I can tell of other things in my life, too. I don't think I can KNOW the future and I do believe God has given us free will. it is confusing, but there just seem to be some things that God lets you know that are either currently happening or that He wants something certain to happen. That's the only sense I can make of it. It's not like I know what I am going to eat for dinner tomorrow (unless I have that planned . . .LOL).
When I was younger (probably middle school), I had a dream of an airplane crashing. When I got up, there was a news report of an airplane crashing.
I had a "deja vu" moment once when I was in the Old State Capitol in Baton Rouge making it seem like I had been there before, but it was only in one little spot.
One time when my parents were alive, I had a dream that a bunch of people in some type of uniforms were all standing around something on a wall in my house even though it didn't look like my house. My Daddy wasn't there. I didn't like the feeling that I had. I shook it off because at that time, things were fine. This happened. It ended up being the people from the alarm company when they were first installing the alarm in our house.
I had barely known him at the time, but I was at ACTS with Briana and for some reason I knew that I would somehow be talking to Mr. Mark in a certain area of the theatre (the back where the actors leave) and Star Trek would be mentioned. This didn't make sense because I don't know that much about Star Trek. It turned out that it was during White Christmas rehearsals and that I had said it felt like my ankle was hurting. Yet, it wasn't really MY ankle. I was telling him about being an empath and how a friend had sprained her ankle and I had been feeling that on that day.
There are other little examples, but those are the ones that come to mind. Also, Briana has fixed lunch, so it's time to eat.
I think the ugly_crap
community may have been abandoned. I would hope not, though, as I hope somebody would allow this post:
Does anybody still come to this LJ community because I've got a doozy! This is being sold by Nordstrom . . . for $95!!!!
I've always wanted my knees to be able to pretend the are astronauts! Er . . .or maybe they are trapped inside on a rainy day?
Are you ready for these monstrosities?
But if you really want some of these ugly things and have $95 to spare, you can Find them at Nordstrom's website
Feb. 16th, 2017 @ 02:40 pm
|30 Things No One Tells You About Leaving Louisiana (Except, Now You've Been Told)
1. When I'm not in Louisiana or Southeast Texas, I'm constantly telling people that I don't live in New Orleans and it is a different culture where I live.
2. Yep, I do that one, too. I ask people to please put periods after the L and the A when they are talking about Los Angeles. I have encountered people on the Internet, even after I tell them that I live in Louisiana, that still act like I live in Los Angeles when they see LA.
3. Well . . . let 'em have fun, plus I don't tend to have a Louisiana accent. Some people say they can hear a bit of one, but I know I basically have General Pronunciation English. I know that I do say some things with an accent, though. I'm not sure I can "place" it other than "some type of Louisiana," though.
4. Yeah . . . this one. There are many, many, many accents . . .
5. I don't care for the taste of alcohol, so thuis one doesn't matter for me.
6. I don't know if they assume that, but I do have to explain.
7. Yeah . . .
8. Sometimes . . .if I'm with Lutherans, not always. Some of them can be bad at it, though. Las Vegas wasn't much for me.
9. I do have to explain that there are things that are typical of a New Orleans Mardi Gras and that is when it happens (there really was somebody expecting all the "boobs and beads" one time when it wasn't Mardi Gras) and then that there are different ways of celebrating Mardi Gras in different parts of the state.
10. I've never been a fan of boudin and I don't know why. I guess it is the flavoring used because sausage and rice sound fine.
11. I'm not an avid football fan, but I'll still cheer for the saints.
12. I don't care for the taste of coffee, but brewing Community coffee smells so good. I love when I smell it at places when I am out.
13. I don't eat seafood, either, as I'm alergic to it . . . not highly, but it makes me sick, and just the smell of boiling crawfish make me extremely sick to my stomach. I know what they mean, though.
14. Yep and then there are places where I'd have no idea how to pronounce those names, so . . .
15. They got this one wrong because it's not "Cher." I'd say it's "shiy" . . . and people spell it "sha," I think . . even though it comes from the French, "cher."
16. Oh, yeah. I still hate roaches, but there are definitely creepy crawly things that I think, "eh," and others think I'm nuts.
18. I'm sure I would, even if I don't always go out to them . . . just passing by them sometimes is nice.
19. It is nice to find that people relax. There are even businesses where I go and people are working and chatting with others and the customers and it's really nice.
20. Oh, I love those spontaneous, "The weather was nice, so let's do something." It's too bad that I don't know people who really do that now . . . but I knew a family that might do that type of thing at times. But, sometimes we can stop by and ask people and they aren't necessarily eating, but just visiting and having a good time.
21. I see this happen because of Facebook and people who have moved from Louisiana to other places. Of course, now they can be bought online.
22. Yeah, what's a "real winter." I know that I'm not . . . and it's nice not being freezing . . . and yes, it does get below freezing sometimes.
23. I'm more of a red beans and rice girl, though.
25. Zapp's would be one of those snacks that I would send to YouTubers who try regional foods if I had the money to do such a thing.
26. Even though I'm not thrilled with sitting outside when it is hot or humid and it is bad for my skin, I admit that there are days I have done this.
28. I love how easy it is to make friends here . . . just start chatting. Do the two of you click? There ya go.
29. Never really thought about having to go find beignets in other places.
30. Yep, I do love coming back here after being gone on a trip.
|» Gummy bears and sports cars|
Yay! I had a funny/strange dream! There were gummy bears in convertible sports cars. There were two-four in each car. The ones in the front seat wore helmets in the ones in the back didn't (which didn't make sense, but that's how it was. The sports cars were all some tone of silver - some looked more shiny white, others silver, and others shiny gray - but they were never totally white or gray. The gummy bears seemed to be racing them down the street and ones that weren't driving would get excited and be jumping up and down in the car and cheering.|
|» Too much Trump=-olitics!!!|
I never have wanted to be president and many times, I've not thought about many political things, but I have thought of some things that would hopefully be done. With Trump in the White House now, I've thought of so many things because he has already done so many things that seem unconsittional. How can banning the EPA from talking to the federal government possibly be constituational? Isn't that taking away rights? |
Whlie Obamacare did not help me in any way and I can't afford health insurance under that, I hate that Trump is trying to take away the fact that people can't be denied health insurance coverage because of pre-existing conditions. If this happens, many of my friend would die. Don't let that happen.
What we need is universal health care (or at least closer to it). I'm not sure what all our taxes go to, but money needs to go to that and the first thing would not be increasing taxes. The first thing is cutting the salaries of the senators and representatives. I'd say that they should not be allowed to make more than four times the cost of living for a four person family in Washington, D.C. That is still A LOT of money. From what I can see, that would give the U.S. $30,000x535, so $16,050,000 more dollars per year! Why not have a co-pay of maybe $20 per doctor visit for regular check-ups and medical issues. Nobody would have to pay more than $20 for a doctor visit. Of course, if the visit is for something elective, that's different. Elective plastic surgery (not needed because of burn injuries or animals bites) would not be covered. Let's even say that a patient would have to pay $1,000 when it comes to a hospital stay for medical reasons, but then it is done - no more. That's it.
Then, there's the issue of alternative energry. We need to cultivate this rather than laying more pipelines. I don't know about how do it all, but hydropower and windpower (complaints about birds and turbines, wouldn't there be a way to make a wind farm within wired fencing that still allowed the winds to blow and keep the birds out?)
Also, Waste Vegetable Oil for cars . . . Briana and I have thought up a whole starting plan on this, but we don't know how everything would work. We do know that the streets would start smelling a lot like French fries.
Of course, funding would have to go to education and to improving roads and imprpoving public transportation in cities that need it.
Then, there's the whole worries of plastic being in landfills. I read that a student somewhere did find a bacteria that eats plastic, so why not concentrate on cultivating that bacteria for landfills and also making recycling more available for people?
I could talk about gay marriage (needs to be legal on the federal level - still let churches and other religious instutions have their own say on it) and service dog law and equality. and probably more . . .but it is late (early?) but I had all of these things on my mind . . . and I REALLY needed to write this.
I know it is no full plan, so go ahead and tear it apart.
Oh, yeah, and the senators and representatives could never vote on increasing their salaries. The plublic would do this, but the public could never vote that salaries go down. The only thing that could possibly happen would be a raise. And, this is not to say that they couldn't make money elsehwere.
|» Too much, too much, too much!!!!|
Well, keeping November BUSY has certainly happened, although having it busy AND missing my parents still . . . not exactly what I wanted. All this junk just makes me miss them even more. My Daddy would help me with things with vehicles and my Mama, well, when she was okay, she gave comfort. I can't really say she truly gave much comfort after Briana came back from TLU. She wasn't doing especially well even when Briana tried going there, but she was okay.|
Anyway, for me, I have to find a mechanic in Lake Charles that works on Mercedes Benz. I thought things would be okay because I had taken the car to Walmart to have the battery checked and they said it was okay. I knew I needed to get it to a mechanic, but I thought it would be okay for a bit.
However, after trying to start it tonight when Briana and I wanted to go out to just do a bit of something in order to get out of the house and allow Radar to work as she gets hyper if she doesn't work, the car didn't start. I mean, it didn't even rev. A bunch of warning lights came on and then went off.
I've also got to get a junked receipt for the Cobalt. I didn't know about needing to do that because I thought it had been reported to be junked once I gave them the title for them to possess it. However, now Louisiana thinks I have a car that I don't have and that I don't have insurance on it. Of course, I have insurance on the Mercedes.
There's all this and then there are still all the hospital bills that Briana should NOT have to pay because they are not her fault, nor even just her body. They are all because of other people who didn't take responsibility for what they did.
I'm not thrilled with all of this, obviously.
|» Electoral College . . . yeah, I say it is outdated.|
The electoral college was created when people weren't educated enough to understand issues. They NEEDED people that understood these things. These days, people are educated. |
I don't care how many people tell me that the electoral college works. It doesn't represent the people. There is the fact that they can change the vote from how they are told to vote with paying a fee. However, they usually vote how they are tod to vote and that's fine, but it isn't representing the people. Don't try to tell me I don't know what I am saying. I know EXACTLY what I am saying. Don't explain to me "how it works." I read about that and I understand it enough to know that the people are NOT represented by what they do.
Say there is a class of 24 people. The class is divided by last names. Last names that begin A-M are Area 1 and last names that begin N-Z are Area 2. It ends up that there are 18 people in Area 1 and 6 people in Area 2. Then, there's "electors" chosen from another small class of 6. Area 1 gets 4 electors and Area 2 gets 2 electors due to "population" size.
To make this not really political, they are voting on if they should have ice cream or cheesecake for a class treat they have earned.
10 people from Area 1 vote for Ice Cream, but 8 people from Area 1 vote for Cheesecake.
All of Area 2 votes for Cheesecake.
Area 1 has electors that are told to vote Ice Cream.
Area 2 has electors that are told to vote Cheesecake.
Because Area 1 has 4 electors, there are 4 votes for Ice Cream.
Because Area 2 has 2 electors, there are 2 votes for Cheesecake.
Since they are using electors, Ice Cream wins.
However, Ice Cream got 10 popular votes and Cheesecake got 14 popular votes.
Cheesecake won the popular vote and the majority of the class probably feels like their votes didn't count.
|» Even local elections are disappointing . . .|
I don't remember everything about the Amendments and Propositions . . . maybe two were results of the opposite of what I voted. However, I am extremely disappointed with people because the one person that I was DEFINITELY supporting for the position that she wanted was running for a non-partisan position. |
Public Service Commission is just to keep our bills down! Anybody who holds that position has to do that job! It's not something that they can change. That's THE JOB no matter what. If a person knows how to do it, that person knows how to do it.
Well, the person I was supporting ran as a Democrat. She was the first to qualify. She was the first to put in a bid. She was the first one out there. She was doing things in communities before the other candidates had anybody running.
So, of course, JUST BECAUSE she ran as a Democrat (I'm pretty sure), she wasn't elected. Well, okay, a female and a democrat. That's awful. It is SO VERY AWFUL.
|» This stupid election . . . and the results . . . |
I'm sick . . . I honestly hoped our country would do better. I was hoping more people would vote for a third party candidate (even if I didn't really LIKE that candidate) than would for Trump so either Hillary Clinton or a third party candidate would get elected. Now we have to deal with Trump! |
I'm sick of people saying how he will bring back Christian values to the United States! He won't!
God is love. Love is not hating people based on race or ability or sex or sexual orientation. That is NOT love. That is NOT Christian.
Trumps has openly said that he does NOT need Jesus' forgiveness, so he doesn't even KNOW what Christianity is about!
I'm sad that Bernie Sanders didn't win the democratic primary. I've been sad about that. I really liked him and his values and what he said he would do, well the majority of it. I don't remember everything, but he was great.
Now, I am truly scared.
I'm not some 1940s or 1950s housewife married (and if I were, it would have to be to a fully abled white husband) with at least one child or one on the way - who either has a little "at home" job or a husband with a great job that provides healthcare.
To me, Trump's America seems like he wants EVERY household to look like the Cleaver's house from Leave It to Beaver.
Makes me sick. And scared. And I just want to cry at times.
|» Oxycodone withdrawal REALLY SUCKS.|
I had been thinking what was happening was from the anesthesia because at first, that's what I found when people were writing about gall bladder removal. However, I thought, "wait a minute, I was on oxycodone, so I should check about that. That gave me ALL the symptoms that experienced and am still experiencing.|
Then on Wednesday night, I ended up talking to somebody who works in the medical field and she knew EXACTLY what I am going through. She could ask me the symptoms and I'd agree immediately.
Why don't doctors tell you these things? Oxycodone withdrawal happens in phases. They call it two phases, but the second "phase" can take six months to a year to be gone!!! (Sometimes the first is divided into two phases with the second lasting up to a month and then the second phase being called a third phase that is long-term).
The first phase is the obvious that lasts one to two weeks. There's the sweating, the DTs (I learned they are VERY real), nightmares that aren't quite as bad (but are still there), huge crying spells, lack of concentration, upset stomach and/or abdominal cramps, bad anxiety, and there can be more . . .
These will wear off, BUT for six months to a year afterwards, there's still random crying spells, being overly sensitive about things (for me, it's my parents . . . I'm usually fine with other people talking about their parents and posting about them, but as of right now, I get all weird and sensitive about not having mine on this earth; there's also major sensitivity about end-of-life . . . either really or preparing or even the possibility), worry/anxiety about hurting others/other living things, and may have other emotional (perhaps behavioral) issues. Oh, yeah, it can also cause sleepiness and insomnia. (What fun).
I randomly feel like myself and then don't and then do. There's no certain "times" that this happens. It's not a time of day, it's not after I've been awake for so many hours. It is random and not fun. The random crying is not fun, either.
Advice is to keep my mind busy and to keep busy, so I try to do that. Also, to get sleep because that helps. I feel the most normal when I finally get all settled into bed and when I first wake (but after a bit, these weird symptoms set in).
I NEVER want to take Oxycodone again - nor do I want to take any of the related drugs such as Oxycontin, Percocet, or quite a few others I read that have it. Tylenol3, please! I know I can handle Tylenol!
|» Previous entries . . .|
It's totally pathetic that the previous entries only goes back one page of entries now. I used to constantly go back to see if I wanted to read things.|
|» Blech . . . |
Can't say much about today other than the post-op stuff was acting up more. It's definitely not as bad as it was at very first, but along with tears, anxiety was getting to me.|
Also, good lunch of lasagna and garlic bread at the Wesley and good brownies!
|» Sick and tired of being sick and tired|
I truly know what people mean when they say they are sick and tired of being sick and tired.|
I am tired of the random crying and random anxiety. At this very moment, I'm feeling okay. However, I never know when I'll suddenly break down crying. The crying then seems to seek a reason to be sad.
It seems to go to target on my Mama. I know I didn't get to grieve properly with everything even though I did grieve. Of course, I couldn't grieve missing my real Mama when she was alive because I always had to be strong to take care of her as much as I could. That always sucked.
When I say that nobody helped with her, that is not an exaggeration. People would come to help me do some things, but seriously, NOBODY helped with her.
Her doctors didn't listen to me. They NEVER listened to me. My Mama never listened to me. The only times she seemed to be lucid were when she told me to get an education and when she knew she didn't want medical treatment.
From the time I was little, she told me that she NEVER wanted to be on life support. She even said that she didn't want to be on IV liquids if she wasn't conscious.
Even though she had told me that year after year and I knew it, I still had to tell the doctor to remove the IV. I still cry at that memory. I know that I didn't kill her. However, it still feels horrible.
I was doing fine before Briana got hit in that hit and run. That started a whole month of going crazy. I can't stand being alone for too long. I HATE being alone at night. I might be okay with ONE night IF I know the person (usually Briana) is okay. But, she was gone for a whole month and then when I am expecting her to be able to come home, I have to go into the hospital and need my gallbladder removed.
Most of that was okay, although I HATED the way I felt after waking up from the anesthesia. I had been under general anesthesia before, but they had used gas both times I had been under. This time, it was only stuff they put in through the IV.
Now, Briana also gives me new information saying that our Mama said she would kill me and then kill herself. Briana said that our Mama tried to get her on board with the plan.
I know I'm definitely safe now (obviously). However, the new information doesn't make me feel any better about things.
I really would like to feel like myself again.
Sure, I had some random anxiety before, but it was with when things felt bad like being in a jail cell again - a darkness or an atmosphere that would come and go.
Now, sometimes, it comes up just randomly and it makes no sense.
I've read people's stories that this happens after going under general anesthesia and having internal operations. I see most say that it lasts about six months and I am not liking that. I don't know if they mean it lasts six months from the operation or after taking terrible drugs.
They had me on oxycodone for pain and when I was awake, it was, "okay." I was numb and I couldn't concentrate on things. However, it would give me TERRIBLE nightmares. I started having really bad dreams where my Mama would be yelling at me and so upset with me.
I've not had any good dreams or visions with her since and that doesn't help. So, I pray that good dreams or visions with her happen soon. I had one at one point and she was with my Daddy and with Marbles. Woofles was alive at the time. I had even asked where Cinder was and I was "told" that she was with Grandma and Grandpa and this made sense to me.
I also have a very sore, what was determined to be muscle, under my right rib. Muscle pain is only what makes sense to me, too. It can feel better is some positions and worse in others. It can get sore when I do activities. I can't seem to do my favorite exercise of crunches because my muscle (I sure hope) get sore.
What I really desire is to feel like myself again.
|» Having a hard time today . . .|
Today was not easy at all. I woke up feeling incredibly guilty and crying. I didn't have my Mama's forgiveness directly, and I've not felt anything from her in dreams other than criticism. I tried my best to get her the care that she needed. I really wanted her to get better because I wanted my real Mama back. I would've loved to have the real her back. I hadn't seen that since elementary school . . . except sometimes the real her shined through. She hid her real self many times when out in public. This time of year can be so hard for me. From June to September . . . it's not a good time of year for me at all. Then Mothers' Day and Fathers' Day aren't easy, either. April can be difficult because that is when Daddy passed away, but I don't seem to have AS DIFFICULT a time with his passing . . .I don't know why. But, I feel guilty that I couldn't be with Mama as much as I would've liked. I feel guilty that I couldn' bring Niblet to see her as much as I would've liked (although the nursing home wouldn't let her have him and he was scared of her). I feel guilty that I couldn't get her into the nursing home where she wanted to be. I feel guilty about the PEG tube, although I did get my objective out of talking to her about the second time and tried to talk her into getting an NG tube (and she wouldn't even agree to that).|
|» Post-op depression and anxiety|
Post-operation depression is not fun. It also comes with post-operational anxiety. I don't like any of this. The anxiety is not like the anxiety that I had while on the Losartan. It was way worse and I didn't want Briana to leave me AT ALL when I was on that. The thought of how that made me feel still scares me and the memory makes me cry.|
It turns out that this post-operation depression and anxiety is normal. Sometimes I'll just start crying over nothing and then it'll take on a form of something to be sad about (and I can't control what it is). Sometimes I don't even have any reason to be crying other than my body just makes me cry.
The anxiety is not good, either. With it, there is an almost constant lump in my throat. I worry that I'll do something stupid, but I don't want to do anything stupid. I have these "what if" thoughts. They are so stupid and I hate them. If I were feeling completely like myself, I'd not have these at all. I'd not think about stupid stuff like this - like what if my throat was slit or I was choked. It may be by me or by others. Thoughts of "What if my sister found me . . ." in some horrible condition like that.
I can say that sleep is good because once I get to sleep, I don't have those thoughts. Honestly, when I wake and am just down in bed and relaxing, I feel normal and don't have those thoughts. However, when I sit up and start doing stuff for the day, then the feelings of depression and anxiety come back.
I scare myself because of these feelings.
I'm glad that I have found they are common after surgery. I hate how they make me feel and while I am not suicidal at all, I keep reminding myself I have every reason to live and reminding myself of all the things that I want to accomplish. It is so strange because I have no desire to hurt myself or anybody or anything else.
I wish doctors and nurses would warn you of these things.
|» Stupid Pharmacist!!!|
When I was dismissed from the hospital, I was given prescriptions of Oxycodone, Losartan, and Iron Sulfate. At first, I thought how great the Oxycodone was because of the pain relief, but it's horrible. It gave me nightmares. I couldn't concentrate on anything. The only times I truly felt okay were when I was asleep. Being that the Oxycodone made me not able to concentrate much, I couldn't tell if the Losartan was doing anything or not.|
Anyway, I stopped the Oxycodone and continued the Losartan for a bit. However, always around the time I took it, I would get extremely anxious and I'd not want Briana to leave me AT ALL. She was nice about it knowing that I was on these meds and would stay in my room with me. One time, she even tried sleeping in my room a bit, but her doggies didn't want her to stay in my room, so she ended up going to bed.
Anyway, the feeling was getting really bad. I could barely think of words to describe the feeling and that isn't good for me at all! I like to read, write, and learn! If I cant' have words, I can't do that!
I finally came up with words to describe my feelings. I could actually place them even more today because I've not taken any Losartan. I told Briana now if you can imagine something like the sound of a buzz saw or a table saw (and if you don't know that, imagine the sound of an appliance that buzzes, but intensify it in your imagination), then keep the FEELING that comes with the intense buzzing, but there is no more sound, then REVERSE it so that it is coming from the inside of your head to almost all the way around it . . . like up to your ears or eyes and behind the head . . . THAT'S THE FEELING.
I called the Walgreens pharmacy and told the pharmacist that the Losaratan was giving me bad anxiety. The pharmacist was not good saying that, "It's not a side effect." Anxiety is listed as a side effect with a major severity! I don't know the pharmacist that was in at that time, but I don't like that one!
There are still times that I want to cry, but that's just normal sadness and silly and cute things make me smile and laugh and I'll pop out of that. There are just sad things that cross my mind and those make me want to cry. Or, there are sad things that I see.
I feel bad if for my Mama if she had that feeling that I did for a long time. I can understand her wanting her hair cut because it did feel like it was all in my hair, but thankfully somewhere in my mind I knew better.
I never understood what she meant because she wouldn't explain how she felt. She would just wave her hands in kind of circles around the side of her head and say that was how she was feeling. I found that I was wanting to do that, too. I had always told myself that I don't want to end up like her, addicted to medications. I won't take those antidepressants. I'll talk. I'll cry.
I knew I had to stop taking the Losartan when that was happening and I've definitely felt like myself. I've just wanted to cry at times afterwards. It hasn't been because of anxiety or being depressed. I just need time and prayers. This whole thing with Briana and then my gall bladder have my emotions all mixed up.
Hopefully, now, all this with my Mama will be gone for good now, too. I'll always love her and I now I think I understand how she felt when she did that strange motion with her hands near her head. Hopefully all the worry will be gone. Things need to be good for a few years and so far, I've not had a run of good years since my Daddy passed away. Well, even before that . . . starting with little Micron.
March 2008 - Micron passes away
April 2008 - Daddy passes away
December 2008 - Marbles passes away
September 2012 - Mama passes away
March 2014 - I'm arrested by sheriff's coming to my HOUSE. They don't put my into intake and the throw me in a dark cell to where I am all alone. And I'm terrible scared and want to be back with my sister and Niblet, Woofles, and Krueger
August 2014 - Woofles passes away
May 2016 - I'm scared that Briana could have died and then I'm still left alone for a month (and I HATE being alone . . . I NEED people around!)
June 2016 - My gallbladder is removed
Where are my good years that I am supposed to get to ENJOY as a young adult? I certainly have not had any of them for YEARS. I've not even written about all the trials Briana and I had taking care of our parents even earlier than that.
|» Minus a body part . . . |
I am now without a gall bladder. Early Thursday morning, I had this sharp pain under my right rib. I had spams that felt like hiccups, but I wasn't hiccuping. Being that we don't have any taxi companies that run in the middle of the night, I went to Urgent Care when it opened. They told me to go to the ER. A friend brought me to the ER at Lake Charles Memorial and helped me get all checked into the ER. I was admitted to the hospital.|
I was diagnosed with gall stones and one obstructing the bile duct. The spasms must have been the stone trying to pass because they eventually stopped and then I just had the pain without the spasms.
So, I was admitted to have my gall bladder removed.
I was on an all clear liquid diet from Friday through my surgery on Monday. All clear liquids diets are not very nutritious and, well, a good way to "cleanse" the inside of your body, I guess.
After my surgery, my lunch was a liquid diet. With what they said that I am supposed to eat, I was surprised that the lunch was basically all dairy! I had cream of potato soup and ice cream!
By dinner, I was allowed to eat solid foods. Whatever they served was gross. I don't know if it was "Cajun rice" or if they forgot to give me my turkey with my stuffing.
This morning, they gave me bacon, eggs, and a roll along with some orange juice. I liked that.
Lunch was a fried pork chop (which wasn't great, but it was okay, and I couldn't finish it) and some mashed potatoes (which were too spicy), and then pudding for dessert.
I get to go home today. I have prescriptions that I need to get. That should not be a big deal.
I am thankful to be rid of the pain and glad it was not something more severe.
It's not been the most fun journey, but all of the staff have been nice and that made the hospital stay much better.
|» Very important update!!!|
I've not updated here, and I need to update. If you pray, please pray for Briana's healing! (Also, please pray that I can handle life while all of this is happening).|
On Wednesday night, Briana was the victim of a hit and run. Nobody stopped at all. Not the person that hit her. Not anybody that might have been around (if there was anybody). I wasn't there, so I don't know. The only thing she had told me was that she was taking her dogs to go out to the bathroom, so don't ask me what she was doing on Ryan St. However, from the two places that she said she thought she was, both of those have traffic lights, so it sounds like she was being safe and the car ran the light!
She is up in Memorial hospital and is doing okay. She has left rotator cuff injury, so her left arm gets numb on and off. She also has a lot of scrapes and bruises. Thankfully, though, she is alive. They didn't say if she had a concussion or not, but she remembers things fine. I think it is the pain medicine that makes her loopy, not the accident. I know that it makes her tired, but that's a good thing because her body needs rest.
The last she told me, she goes faster than the nurses expect her to go. She wants to be able to move again.
I told her that she is going to have to stay at our house (she can take her dogs into the front yard, but that's it) once the sun has set and she is only out either with me or at a place where I or somebody else is going to pick her up if it is dark.
I've had a person act like she knows all about my life and everything that has gone on it. She acts like she knows what it is like because she took care of her mentally ill mother. Her life is nowhere near the same as mine. She acts like it is, though. She lives in California. I live in Louisiana. Louisiana doesn't have tons of resources like other states. Either they tell you that they'll take the person away and put them in special living, or that they don't qualify for things. They don't provide exactly what is needed. Adult protective services has come to our house many times and that is because somebody keeps reporting Briana and it is none of their business. I'd love the house to be cleaner, but I don't have the money for a housekeeper and Adult Protective Services won't provide one, so how can I have one?
Most people are being very great and helpful. Thank you, it does mean a lot as this is quite stressful. It can be difficult taking care of Briana, but she is also a huge help around the house and I do miss her even if there are times that she gets annoying and irritating. At least she was still telling me things like not to spoonerize "pork stew."
If you want to know some stuff I've dealt with in my life, read on . . .
`In Kindergarten, I was extremely sick - esophagusitis.
`In third grade, I had it again with tonsilitis from staph bacteria.
`By the time I was in fifth grade, people were teasing me horribly - for no good reason, they just were. They kept this going on through middle school, some through 12th grade. Some are still mean and do it up to today.
` in sixth grade, I was diagnosed with scoliosis (which thankfully, they caught it, but now I do have a weak back and the side effects of having scoliosis and wearing a brace for THREE YEARS).
` When I was in eighth grade, Briana had surgery for her scoliosis. I ended up taking care of her and doing her therapy with her more than my parents.
` In 10th grade, I had bacterial pneumonia and I'm pretty sure my doctor was stupid, only having me stay at home for two weeks. I think I should have probably been in the hospital. I don't feel like I ever regained all of my stamina or lung function.
` In the summer of 2002 is when my Daddy had his left leg amputated under the knee because of a horribly bad infection and Charcot's foot. He blamed it all from a blood blister that he claimed he got from stepping on a toy - but I really doubt that. He never took care of his feet as well as he said he did.
` About a year later, he had to wear a boot on his right foot because of Charcot's foot. My Daddy, despite my weak back, would make me take his wheelchair in and out of the van and push him around in grocery stores and such places. He would also make me take on the trash on Thursday mornings (do everything), and not let me get it done on Wednesday nights!
` I tried to get a job at McDonald's the first time I was in college. They were not supposed to have me do janitorial work and were supposed to train me. They had me train on janitorial work the first day that I got there. The next two times, they never trained me and made me do janitorial work! By the fourth time I was supposed to be there, I was so sore and in such pain that I could barely move. My Mama had to go with me in order for me to just be able to move. They had never trained me to do anything else and instead of having me sit and learn anything, they just fired me on the spot. Then they even had the nerve to call me at 5am on day and say I needed to open the place, and then go "Oops, wrong Bridget."
` My Daddy passed away in April 2008. I was extremely depressed (when somebody close to me dies, I am usually extremely depressed for four to six months).
` My Mama was on those stupid antidepressants starting when I was in second grade. She would come out of her therapists office and just tell me that she told the therapist everything was fine rather than actually talking! The therapist at first had her on BOTH Wellbutrin and Paxil. Later, it was just a Paxil. That doctor retired and she never got a real therapist/doctor again and her GP (the family doctor, who I will NEVER go to again - honestly do NOT got to Dr. Arthur Primeaux!) would just adjust her Paxil however she wanted it to be.
` I had to deal with my Mama getting worse and worse. The neuropsychiatrist she went to lied. He kept saying that she was fine, that she had something like Asperger's that wouldn't get any worse. It was all a lie because she kept getting worse and they wouldn't wean her off of those antidepressants. She became convinced that I was trying to kick her out of the house which isn't true at all (I told her to go have fun one day so Briana and I could work on cleaning). She would keep falling and hitting her head even though we told her to fall on her butt, her arms, or her legs, because you can heal a broken limb. She would look all beat up. All I would do was help her, but I later found out that somebody reported me for elderly abuse!!! I was never told this at first! Oh, yeah, and things were bad because even earlier when she was "okay," she would drink and water would come out of her nose I told her that it wasn't normal and she REALLY needed to see a doctor about that, but she wouldn't listen to me. I couldn't force her and her GP would not listen to me at all. He flat out refused to listen to my concerns about her.
` I had to deal with stupid nurses constantly calling me about my Mama. She was insistent that she didn't want a PEG tube and while it was hard for me, I wanted to honor her wishes. I was also worried she pull out a PEG tube since she had a history of pulling out tubes. I urged her to get an NG tube like I had when I was little because of the esophagusitis, but she even refused that, no matter how much I urged her to do that.
` My Mama passed away in September 2012.
` My grandpa also passed away in September 2012 and I had NO IDEA that he did other than a Facebook friend telling me about his obituary in the newspaper! His girlfriend's caretaker was a HUGE liar and said she couldn't find our telephone numbers (the home one is easy to find online) and then she tried to make us feel guilty saying that we never came to visit him which is a bunch of bull because we would come and he would always say not to come into the house! My grandpa hid how terrible is health was from us! He kept saying it was his girlfriend who was in such bad health! Briana and I got NOTHING . . . not even the flag from his service in WWII. He basically completely disowned us. His girlfriend was rude about it, too. He signed everything (which, I guess he didn't have much, but still) over to her. She wouldn't even let Briana look for what he always called "the green can" that he would tell us to find if anything happened to him.
` I was falsely arrested AT MY OWN HOUSE for stalking somebody that I NEVER stalked. The sheriff didn't have evidence and even knew what was truly happening because the sheriff said not to call him, so the sheriff was corrupt and acting on the other person's word. They said that he is the one that signed that I was stalking him, but I never got to see the signature (of course). If I had, I would've been able to tell because we used to be friends.
` Life is better again, in general. Briana and I help each other with things. We often do chores together. We'll take turns so each of us can rest our backs. We do things how they work for us and we often wish they would work out better, too. I am doing my schooling so hopefully I can get a good job where I can afford a housekeeper - at least one that comes once a week to wash dishes, clean the bathroom, empty the trash cans (and not one like the gal that insisted she was our house keeper, kept asking Briana for more money, made my life MORE stressful by telling me that I needed to buy tons of stuff for her to make the house look how she wanted it; and I think she stole stuff, too . . . there are a few things I've never found again that seem like they should've still been here).
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"appendicitis" as "ap-pen-dish-ih-tus," via as "vie-er," Les Miserables as "lez miser ables," and blogger as "blojjer."