Damn Prostetic Anyway!

Before i start, I want to make it perfectly clear that the picture attached as well as the title are not intended to offend anyone- they are intended to make a point and it is one that I feel strongly about.

For most of my life I have suffered with..... gads... depression.  Yes, that horrible affliction that I should just "get over", "shake it off", "get out of my slump", "stop it" and the dozens and dozens of ignorant yet well meant words of wisdom that are spoke by uninformed people that think they have something magical to offer by saying such things as "you have nothing to be depressed about"

I am not discontented by my illness.  I am well aware of it's true nature, I know that it can be controlled by medication (for the most part) and while I would certainly prefer not to have it, I am pretty sure anyone with any disease would prefer not to have it.  The problem lies with other people and their idiotic misconceptions of depression and for that part, many other mental illnesses.

The uninformed and misguided ignorance of the general public on the subject is not what I am really concerned about right now though- my intention in writing this is more directed toward other people who suffer from depression and their own lack of understanding that it is not a mental problem- it is not an emotional problem- it is a chemical imbalance in the brain that is beyond your control to, well, control no matter what your friends and acquaintances tell you.

When I first started taking anti depressants in the early early 90's I was one of those people who felt I should be able to just "get over it" my counselor at the time asked me would I feel the same if I were, for instance, diabetic?  Would I expect to "just get over it:" or would I take the medicine that would bring me quality of life without even questioning it?  The latter was the answer, of course.  I have tried to use that same scenario to many ill informed people throughout my life but they still don't by it.  Whatever- 

Last summer I met a guy, a friend, that I went kayaking with.  That's all it was- a brief friendship, and kayaking.  Somehow the subject of prescriptions came up (he took many for blood pressure, and heart ailments and I don't know what else) and I told him I took prescriptions for anxiety, nightmares and depression- he totally flipped out.  While all of his prescriptions were necessary in his book, none of mine were. I didn't even bother trying to defend myself to him- this was a man who I never once, NOT ONCE EVER saw sober and who would buy a fountain soda from the store just for the cup to drink beer out of in disguise... but the fact that I took "MENTAL" drugs, ended our friendship.

At that moment (and until now I guess) I learned to tell people that I had a traumatic brain injury and that's why I am often moody, or have extreme highs and lows, and why my temperament affects my life so much.  Now instead of being ridiculed for not being able to "just get over it" I am spoken to more gently and with some empathy- and if you want to get right down to it, I have had plenty of trauma to my brain during my life.

Moving on- I know several other people who suffer from similar afflictions, and every single one of them, at one time or another has said, they don't want to stay on the medication for the rest of their life, they want to try something herbal, they want to quit taking it and see what happens, they are ashamed that they need something for DEPRESSION especially if they seemingly have nothing to be depressed about. 

I have an issue with that on two levels- first, if the disease was called something other than DEPRESSION would anyone ever question it?  If it was called "Serotonin Absorption Inability" would anyone judge a person for having it? Would there be a stigma attached to it? Would people who have it be able to be convinced that they could do without the medication if they just willed them self to absorb their serotonin more efficiently?   I think NO, to all of the above.

My second issue that I hear all of the time is "well I have been feeling better since I stared taking antidepressants so I am going to stop taking them now"  Well, c'mom, this isn't like a headache where once it goes away you can discontinue taking a Tylenol  and isn't the POINT of taking antidepressants TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER?  I have been there- I have had this train of thought shoved down my throat too many times- I have been one of the ones who has been convinced that since I feel better I don't need the medicine anymore and I have hit rock bottom so hard that now I feel certain that I do have a traumatic brain injury just from the impact.

This blog may sound like a ramble- I am a little out of practice but I want to leave everyone who takes antidepressants or criticizes someone who does with this one hopefully poignant thought:

If you lost a leg for some reason, and you learned to walk again using a prosthetic, would you be grateful for regaining some control back over your life, or once you learned to walk with it would you say, or listen to someone say, "well you are walking fine now, I don't see why you still need that fake leg" ?   Yes it is, the same thing. 

Public Service Announcement!

This is a PSA to let all of my devoted followers, yes all 10 or so of you, know that I am going to try to start writing here in my blog again.  I know I have said that before but I miss it, and I have a lot of crabbing to do and being the hermit that I am, I just have no where else to do it.  

Please stand by for further blogs. 

PS:  If this had been an actual blog.... nothing different would have happened.

 

A Timid Knock At The Door...

Last Friday night, December 16, 2011 at 6:15 PM a timid knock on my door changed my life forever.

One October day in 2002, a phone call did too.

I was working at the police department, over 9 years ago, when I received a call from a mildly hysterical woman complaining about a wild animal on her porch. It was late at night, cold, rainy, and she was so upset over this beast on her porch that I called the Animal Control Officer out to try to catch it.

Shortly after the ACO's arrival, and retrieval of the frightening wild animal, he showed up at the police department holding about a 4 week old, half starved, soaking wet kitten and said "I guess I will be taking this to the pound..." I said "oh give me the thing" and I kept it in my lap for the rest of the night. The ACO's strategy had worked...

When I got off work I took the kitten home, and tossed it in bed with Haley who was sound asleep. Haley opened his eyes grabbed the kitten and said "Mew". He had always wanted to name a kitten "Mew" and it stuck.

Mew was so sickly that he needed to be bathed almost daily. His digestion system was a bit, um, faulty, but it didn't stop us from loving him. Mew started slowly growing stronger and was turning into a beautiful kitty with a personality like no other.

Near Halloween we had planned a weekend camping trip to Salem Massachusetts and while we usually left the cats at home to fend for themselves, we didn't have the heart to part with tiny and sickly Mew- so along he went. We set up a litter box etc in the camper Haley and his friend Justin were staying in and Mew spent the weekend camping at the beach with the rest of us. As it would turn out, the next year, even though Mew was an adult and healthy, we still brought him with us for old times sake.

Mew- we called him the gay cat because he was so extraordinarily handsome and meticulous. He had the softest most perfect fur, Jack Sparrow eye liner and he purred constantly. I would try to tell people stories about his perfection and personality and they found my tales far fetched- until they actually met him. Haley and I used to joke that Mew should have been the cat on the Fancy Feast commercials and that we were afraid he would be kidnapped by the Fancy Feast people... Mew loved everyone- he slept on my pillow, or my face, whichever- he would nibble on my nose or my eye lid when I was in REM sleep, just so I know he was there. I never went to bed without be joined by Mew. On Thursday 12/15/11, I went to bed, Sid was in his space next to me and I stuck my hand under my pillow and there was Mew. He just stayed there and let me fall asleep on him- that was his way. Docile and unconcerned with just about everything.

Mew wasn't perfect though- at some point he had developed an affinity for sneaking outside and when he did there was no catching him. Haley described it as "getting the wild in him" and no matter how careful we were, or how stressed we became when he escaped, he managed to do it with some frequency. I can't begin to count the amount of times I stood outside at night yelling "MOOOOO" and how many times I hugged him gratefully when he'd come home, and I'd beg him not to do it again..

Not only were Mew's escapades to the great outdoors dangerous for him, but his faulty digestive system had never completely healed and often when he returned he would be sickly from getting into something that he shouldn't have. While he wanted to eat anything anyone else was eating I had to be careful not to let him or I would pay the price with a stinky trail of liquified fecal deposits that didn't quite make it to the litter box... but that's the epitome of how much I loved Mew- how special he was, he was worth it even when it meant cleaning up after him.

Over the last few months Mews intestinal problem seemed to be getting worse. He had foul smelling gas and I was concerned that maybe he wasn't feeling good. Twice he had been so bad off that I had to lock him in the bathtub (I didn't have a better place and it is enclosed with doors) to let him get out of his system what ever had gotten in there- I didn't like it- but it was necessary. After a few days he would be back to normal and I would be swatting him off of my face while I tried to sleep or trying to keep him away from the milk in the bottom of my cereal bowl.

This December, Haley, Casey, Audrey and I had planned a weekend get away to Santa's Village over Casey's birthday. We were all looking so forward to it- we needed the vacation and the excitement of an adventure and we were counting down the days. In fact we were so excited about it that at the last minute we decided to leave Friday night instead of Saturday morning which meant that I had a ton of last minutes errands to run all day Friday. I was making good progress, trying to get the trash out and head to the dump, when Mew ran out the front door. I saw him dash past the satellite dish and then he was out of sight.

I continued with my rush to get my to do list finished and was just getting ready to jump in the shower when a timid knock came from the door. I had already dropped Sid at the kennel or no one could have even made it to the door, so I was a little leery of who was out there. I peeked out the window and saw two girls, figuring they were selling something I decided to answer...

One of the girls was visibly upset, the other was less and asked "is this your cat?" with that the upset girl turned toward me and was holding Mew. She was crying and apologizing and I kept telling her it wasn't her fault, that he was not supposed to be outside... I don't know how many time I repeated that- a dozen, a hundred- it's all a blur. The other girl told me that she did not think Mew was "still with us" and I thought she meant conscious- I was holding him and I never thought that he wasn't alive. The crying girl said he had run out in front of her, she didn't know what she had hit and stopped to see. Apparently her reaction caused a neighbor to come out and recognize Mew and together they brought him home to me. I thanked them extensively for that then I started to cry. The girl who had hit him was breaking down and they both left, I came inside wondering how I was going to find a vet so late on Friday night and what Mews injuries were going to do to our trip.

It was in a blink of an eye that I felt him die. He hadn't regained consciousness, he didn't move, I just felt his soul leave him. Instantly I knew that he had held on with all of his might to be able to die in my arms. I completely broke down in hysteria and put him on the chaise in my living room and knelt beside him screaming that he couldn't go- that he wasn't allowed outside, and that I would miss him for the rest of my life. I called Haley who came right over and I cried like I haven't in years, that gasping for air, tears flooding my face, unable to even speak sort of crying that comes from the deepest part of my whole body- I shook in disbelief and I held Mew until I was so sure that he wasn't coming back to me.

After some time had passed I clipped some of Mews fur to remember him by (and for when cloning becomes affordable) and Haley took Mew to his house until we can properly bury him. It occurred to me that I was not going to be strong enough to make it through the weekend festivities, then it occurred to me that I HAD TO and I crawled (literally) up the stairs and to the shower barely able to support myself with the weight of my devastation pressing down on me.

I tried so hard to be brave for the trip but I cried most all the way to New Hampshire. I relived that knock at my door all through the night and I cried under my pillow for hours. When I felt myself becoming inconsolable I went in the bathroom so I didn't upset the rest of my family, or I went for a walk around the hotel lobby but internally I didn't have a moments peace.

We did have a good time on our trip, I am proud of myself for not bailing out of it under the circumstances. I had moments where I was able to laugh and enjoy myself and I think I kept it together enough for the rest of the family to have a good time and Casey to have a nice 25th birthday but I ached so bad inside that at times I felt like I could not even breathe. Every now and again I would accidentally say out loud that "Mew is gone" and I would start to cry.

Originally we had planned to come home late Sunday and I would pick up Sid on Monday but as it was we came home early enough for me to pick up Sid Sunday night. I was dreading the loneliness of not having Mew and it would have been unbearable not to have Sid with me either. But even with Sid with me, I stalled coming home. I just could not bring myself to put one foot in front of the other to get into my own house. I thought about all of the white cat hair that I was constantly having to vacuum up, the putrid litter box and the annoyance of Mew racing me to the cat food cabinet and I longed for all those things. I must have driven around for about 2 hours before forcing myself to just come home.

Mew is gone forever and I really will miss him for the rest of my life. Few cats have had that affect on me but Mew- he was indescribably unique. Special doesn't describe him. I have pictures of Haley handcuffing him- I used to be able to roll him over on his back and vacuum his belly fur, he came when I called him, we dressed him and he didn't care and he loved me as much as I loved him.

I have tried to console myself by thinking that maybe Mew knew he was sick after so many recent bouts of intestinal problems. I have tried to think that maybe he was running off to die rather than to suffer. I have searched for verification of these occurrences and found some hearsay documentation- it brings me a little comfort to think this may be the case and I don't want to be told different. I don't want to think that Mew only lived a portion of his intended life. I want, I NEED, to believe that December 16, 2011 @ 6:15PM was his time to leave me and that he is where he is meant to be.

Everyone misses you Mew. Audrey does. Sid does. They know. I know too. I feel you still jumping into bed with me and I have instinctively reached for you. I'll miss you my whole life, you were, and always will be, the best.

It's Diana but my momma calls me dummy....

A few days ago I acquired a new tank for Ubb. It is a monstrosity of a thing- 48" long, 13" wide, and it sits on a stand which makes its overall height tall enough to be a half wall- ever since I got it I have been wondering where in the world I was going to put it...

After walking around and noticing there is nowhere with that much empty space in my house, I thought if I only had a smaller sofa, then I could put the tank and stand behind it - the sofa I have now is very VERY deep, so it already sticks out further than I would prefer it too...

That set the wheels in motion for me thinking I needed a smaller sofa. My living room is not huge- and it's narrow, so whatever I got could not be more than 72" in length and I have looked fairly enthusiastically online and locally for a sofa less than 72" and haven't had much luck.

Plus, new sofa had to be cheap- really cheap as I have no money to be out buying furniture in anywhere other than a discount place, a yard sale, a thrift shop etc and even then I am splurging beyond my means...

Today I was in town running errands and decided to look at the usual hot spots for bargains, Ken-A-Set (Jenny, that's where you got that cool round chair), The Salvation Army and as a last resort Goodwill.

Our Goodwill has a very small selection of furniture- very small. In fact I don't know that I have ever really seen a sofa there but I went anyway just "in case". Today they did have something that may have worked- a double reclining loveseat - but it was dirty and not what I wanted...

But next to it there were two very contemporary and huge, tiered, square, end tables. These tables were sitting in a way that made them look like a sofa (using some imagination) and the wheels started turning in my head...

While I was looking a woman approached me- she was chatty, fairly well kept, my age but obviously a little on the slow side and by the attitude of the employees I deemed they thought her a nuisance. I think she probably comes in the store everyday.

One of the employees addressed her as Diane, then said "actually it's Diana, isn't it?" The chatty woman then said "My momma named me Diana but most the time she calls me dummy so I answer to almost anything". She wasn't kidding, she was stone cold serious and that really bothered me...

As I looked at these tables trying to figure out if I could turn them into a sofa, Diana was right there glued to my every out loud thought and she thought my idea was amazing. The problem was that I didn't have any way to transport these things and I was stuck on a decision.

Diana then tells me she has a friend with a truck and she bets he would help me. I said the obigatory "no, no, no, I'll will figure something out" but Diana insisted on helping me and with that she said it would take her 5 minutes to walk to her friends house and she would be back.

I stood there and waited wondering what the heck I was doing- anywhere that's a 5 minute walk from the local Goodwill is skid row Waterville with very few exceptions but Diana seemed so determined to help me that I figured I would wait and see if she came back.

Fifteen minutes or so later, here she is, with her friend Randy, and Randy's truck and Randy is happy to load these things and drive the 30 miles (round trip) to my house if I would cover the gas.

While I paid for the tables (which I had negotiated the price down by $10) Randy and Diana drove to the back of the store and loaded them in his truck, she came in to get me and said he was waiting to follow me, glad she could help, and to have a nice day.

I was a little bit dumbfounded to tell the truth. The whole thing was way out of my comfort zone as I don't easily interact with people but here were these strangers, on a Saturday afternoon out for nothing except to do a good deed.

I gave the $10 I had saved to Diana and she was adamant that she didn't want it. I told her it was for all the help she provided and the inspiration she had given me because I would have given up on this project if she hadn't been so eager to find me a way to transport them.

I gave her a hug and told her thank you for being so friendly to a stranger- something that is way WAY out of character for me, but obviously not out of character for her. All I kept thinking was... her momma calls her dummy.

Diana set off walking back to where ever she came from, and Randy and his wife followed me all the way home and he helped me put the tables in the garage until such time as I have time to make them into the couch that I have planned.

I gave him some gas money and he went on his way just as happy as could be that he was able to help out a stranger in need. I have done good deeds here and there but not like this- these people were excessive and I doubt it was a one time thing.

The tables are now in my garage waiting until such time as I have time to turn them into the amazing couch that I see in my mind. I have cushions saved from other projects, and an entire roll of upholstery fabric that I bought a long time ago just in case I ever needed it.

My entire project will cost under $100 and the most amazing thing- I measured the two tables and they are 36X36 so end to end they are..... 72 inches- exactly the size that I needed and I will have something cooler than anything I could have ever bought premade.

Plus, I am always going to have the memory of Diana. An overly friendly, good hearted, a little bit slow woman who hangs out at Goodwill and helps out strangers like me. Her momma named her Diana but she calls her dummy... I will never forget that.

Why I get defensive...

When guys like this

<-------------

have a tattoo of dead pig dressed in a police uniform and they put a picture of it on the internet with a death threat that mentions my kid by name, you can bet your ass that I am going to be sensitive about people criticizing the police.


So just FYI, if someone makes a derogatory comment about their opinions of the police, I am going to get pissed off about it- if you can't handle it then defriend me but before you do, try walking in my shoes or better yet, my sons.

The below story is an example of what the police deal with on a daily basis and the above is my opinion of those who bitch about them for their efforts.

By Scott Monroe
Staff Writer

WINSLOW -- A Winslow man pulled over in a traffic stop early Tuesday morning was arrested on drug charges, including possession of bath salts, police said.

The man, Nathaniel K. Kulik, 21, of 140 North Reynolds Road, was convicted last year on gun and drug charges after he was arrested with a loaded revolver outside an abandoned building in 2009.

Kulik was being held without bail Tuesday afternoon at the Kennebec County jail in Augusta.

Winslow police officer Haley Fleming was on patrol early Tuesday morning when he began following a 1996 Honda Civic on China Road, according to Police Chief Jeffrey Fenlason. Haley knew that the driver, Kulik, was violating a court-ordered curfew by being out at that hour, so he pulled the car over on Bay Street at 12:09 a.m., Fenlason said.

Fleming searched the car and then Kulik's residence, where Fleming found marijuana pipes, and small but usable amounts of marijuana, cocaine and bath salts in his bedroom, Fenlason said.

"Bath salts" is one of the street names for a designer drug that can reportedly cause hallucinations, paranoia and psychotic behavior. It became illegal in Maine two months ago.

"There was no indication he (Kulik) was under the influence of drugs at the time of the stop," Fenlason said.

Kulik was cooperative and was arrested on charges of unlawful possession of a schedule W drug, unlawful possession of a synthetic or hallucinogenic drug, possession of marijuana, sale and use of drug paraphernalia and violating conditions of release, according to Fenlason.

Kulik was convicted last year of carrying a concealed weapon, sale and use of drug paraphernalia, and possession of scheduled drugs. The conviction stemmed from November 2009, when police arrested Kulik, then 19, and a 17-year-old male from Embden, outside an abandoned building.

Police said among the items they seized was a .32-caliber revolver loaded with four bullets.

Kulik said that if he hadn't "taken something earlier to calm himself down, he would have pulled the gun out and shot the officers and himself," police said at the time.

I Got All Night.....

Once home this evening I noticed a missed call from Time Warner Cable on the house phone- hmmmm... did I forget to pay my internet bill in August? I certainly could have- with everything else that I have had going on especially with Dad, forgetting my $29.95 bill seemed the least of my worries.

Fearing I may lose my lifeline to the world (Facebook) I called Time warner Cable to make a payment over the phone- just like I do every single month. It is all automated and I know it by heart- I don't even listen to the menu anymore I just say Yes, Pay Bill, Minimum, Check and then give them the account number. Takes literally 2 minutes. Except for tonight.

When I said "minimum" the recording told me I had a balance of $114. which I knew was not right so I waited to speak with someone in customer service. A few rings later, Travis, answered the call. I explained my problem to him at which point he informed me that my internet had not been paid for three months and it was $39.99 a month, not $29.95. I informed him that he was incorrect. The conversation went downhill fast after that.

I told Travis that I had my bank statement and Time Warner statement in front of me showing my last payment was in July and that since this was August, July was in fact not three months ago. Travis then corrected me by saying that "technically, this is September, I mean, if you want to get technical about it" I told him that yes, my bad, it is September 1st but regardless, my last payment had been in July. He argued, I argued, he said I would have to bring my paperwork in to the office and then IF there was a mistake they would correct it. I said, that was not acceptable and neither was his attidude and that I wanted to speak to someone else. Travis then asked me, very sarcastically, who I wanted to speak to and I may have said "anyone who isn't a dick" . Travis then hung up on me.

Well. Ever since hurricane Irene, internet service has been out sporadically over three states in New England and I am sure that the customer service people at Time Warner have probably heard as much bitching from people as they can possibly stand, however, I have not had an outage, that wasn't why I was calling and I did not start the fight between Travis and I. Plus, I have all night to call back and my thoughts are that Time Warner really has bigger problems to deal with right now than my $29.95 bill so it is to everyone's advantage to resolve the issue, pronto.

Naturally, I called back. This time I spoke to Troy. I advised Troy that I wanted to speak to a supervisor and I wanted to speak to one right now. Troy politely asked me to hold. When the phone rang back to Troy I could feel him quivering at the thought of having to speak to me... but he explained that the call was in queue and asked was there anything he could do to help me. I decided to give Troy a chance. I think I heard his teeth chattering in fear.

Troy was quite patient and polite though as he went over everything with me and saw that yes, I had in fact made a payment in July, but the problem was that my bill had gone up $10.05 per month and since I always just make the payment over the phone and I always make it for the same amount and was unaware that it had gone up, I was now past due an extra $30.15 on top of the August payment I had forgotten to make and some other crap that made the total owed some outrageous amount. Troy fiddled with things for a bit and then asked me to hold so that he could talk to a supervisor.

I was on hold for at least 10 minutes, maybe 15, when Scott answered. I asked Scott if he was a supervisor and he reluctantly said "yes, why?". I asked if Troy had spoken to him and he said no, he just picked up the phone and there I was. Bottom line was that I got to start all over again with, Scott. To make this long story not too much longer Scott said that yes my bill had gone up because my contract had expired blah blah blah. I decided that it was to my advantage to be civil to Scott as he did have the power to change things and eventually Scott knocked the payment down to $34.95 per month and waived all of the other bogus charges that were showing on my bill, I made my payment and all ended fine (hopefully) in Time Warner Internet Land.

Now here is where it gets bizarre... before hanging up with me Scott reviewed my previous calls to Travis and Troy and agreed that Troy had been helpful whilst Travis had not. Scott said he would speak with him and I actually told Scott that I was satisfied with how things had turned out and that I didn't think it was necessary for him to speak with Travis. Scott said it was my decision. Truthfully, yes, the man pissed me off and yes he has the customer service skills of probably anyone who has spent the last three days taking calls from people griping about their internet still being off, and yes he was rude and condescending but the way I figure it, he is working nights answering the phone at Time Warner and that is punishment enough.

I'll bet that whenever I call there from my home phone number in the future, that a little red flag pops up and all of the call takers pretend to be busy till the new guy finally answers the phone... ;)

Sometimes, I Am Afraid To Live Here :(

They're boys and girls- they range in age from 7 to 17 - they come from the last house on the right and the first house on the left - they're bratty kids and I am sick of them.

I have had to call the Sheriff's Office more times this summer than I have ever called in my life. These kids are driving me crazy.

I have watched them torment my dog, throw trash in my yard, ride their bikes purposely in front of traffic- I have listened to the foulest language, the non stop roar of go carts doing donuts in front of my driveway, and screams in the middle of the night.

I have been awoken by this gang of kids beating on street signs with some sort of pipe, smashing glass and then today shooting..... something. I didn't see what they had but I immediately went outside to get Sid. He is afraid of them too.

While I was outside Deputy Cole showed up- I had not called him (someone else did) but I flagged him down to give him a description of the kids and where they went. I told him that I was beginning to be afraid to live here because this goes on day and night and it's escalating. He said he would go talk to the kids but we all know (including the thugs) that this is not going to stop them.

I don't want to be the crazy lady that throws cats at the local kids (metaphor!) but I am so tired of them and I worry about them vandalizing my place or worse- doing something to hurt Sid. I don't know what to do besides keep calling the Sheriff's Office and taking pictures of the little shits.

For those of you who are going to suggest that I go talk to the parents- that is out of the question- I am far to shy and non confrontational for that. PLUS- I am not the only one on this street complaining and calling the police- one of my neighbors who has lived here for thirty years is considering moving- that's how bad it is!

Finally... I'm Broken

I broke just now. I don't know what it took- I wasn't listening to any sad music or thinking of anything in particular it just finally happened- I was standing in the kitchen and all of a sudden I pictured myself putting things in my fathers coffin. The trivial pursuit card with the Willie Mays answer on it from our game at the Grand Canyon in 1984 and the only time I ever beat him- my interpretation of the electoral college because he has never once let me finish a sentence when I have been talking about it- then I started to just think about other random things, like telegrams that he sent me for my birthday because he was too far away to be with me any other way- he was at sea- probably catching the very disease that 40 years later would be claiming his life.

I am not your average person. My thoughts are just different and I have thought about everything and every outcome on every subject and whether I am right, wrong or indifferent I am always convincing at least to myself. I have a lot of far fetched ideas about life- I'm not a religious person, at least not in any conventional or explainable way. I've thought a lot about death too- not just lately but for for a good chunk of my life. I have been on that brink and it doesn't bother me to think of death as a choice, after all from the moment of each of our conception our only true destiny is to someday die. Seems as though we are in control of everything in between though and I'm not sure I like that.

I have been setting myself up for the last few years to face the inevitable and that being that my parents, are growing older, and that it is likely they will not be around for another 25 years- I mean, it's not like any of us know when our time is coming but each day we grow older really just pushes us closer to death and in their case I have been trying to prepare myself for the future, for a while now.

I thought I had a pretty good grip on it. We're born, we live, we die- big deal. But something finally broke tonight and for all of my thinking and reasoning and bull shitting and planning I found my self sitting on the kitchen floor crying. I am not good in uncontrolled situations and I am angry at the lack of control that I have right now - my instinct is to metaphorically run away but I am trying so hard not to do that right now... I am so afraid that this time, by the time I come back from where ever I go to protect myself, that it will be too late.

I am a mess and my ramblings here are proof of that.

FORTY-ELEVEN

So I am officially past the 1/2 century mark as of August 7th. The day came and went without any sort of apocalyptic event, luckily.

Prior to, Mom and Dad came up and took Audrey and I out to lunch and gave me my typical birthday check* (I had long ago conned any other would be birthday gifts out of them and they reminded me of that on the card LOL)

The day of my birthday was pretty uneventful 'cept for having Audrey to keep me entertained, a bunch of facebook posts and a few phone calls. We did the actual celebrating the next day when Haley and Casey were both off of work.

So it was Monday when Mom and Dad met Haley and Casey and Audrey and I at Margaritas which incidentally, prior to our arrival I had specifically said that I wanted no extra attention- I didn't need any birthday singing or fanfare, I even warned of the consequences for disobedience and kept a constant vigil on the comings and goings of those at my table... still someone was able to sneak away and the next thing I knew the clapping started and someone put a sombrero on my head and I was officially a spectacle. Ug.

The rest of my birthday present comes the first weekend in September and I can't wait. Haley and Casey and Audrey are taking me on a weekend adventure to the White Mountains where we will do some motel'ing, eating, shopping, and Santas Village'ing. It has been years since we have been to Santas Village in the summer, plus Audrey has never been, so I am really looking forward to that. There is no better present than being able to spend quality time with the people who love me and vice versa <3

* I spent half of my birthday check on a new tank for Ubb and will have the other half for the trip.

Out Of The Hospital, But Not Of The Woods

I blame myself for not paying more attention when I accompanied Juan and his partner way back when to that first appointment where I said I was really only along for the free lunch... but console myself by remembering that I had specifically said "If there is anything I don't know, tell me now so that I don't have any big surprises" and I was assured that I knew all there was to know? Well, I DIDN'T KNOW that that appointment was in a freaking cancer center. I guess I missed the sign or didn't think to read it- the place looks just like a medical complex where I would go to get my head examined or a mammogram- there was nothing about it that screamed cancer center. In fact I did not know this, nor really what kind of doctor Juan's doctor is, until he was released from the hospital and I came home and started researching him online. Now things were making a little more sense except for that one burning question, "why didn't anyone tell me this before?"

The home health care nurse came both Saturday and Sunday after Juans relaese from the hospital Friday. Juan showed up for his doctor appointment Monday morning. This was the appointment that the hospital had scheduled for him for the follow up and catheter removal. Upon arrival at the doctors office (the same one who had done the surgery) Juan was told that the incision sight looked fine but that the doctor was not going to remove the catheter (In a manner like eewww- I am way over qualified for that!) but his staff would call a urologist and make an appointment.

Juan's doctors staff was unable to reach a urologist and Juan was sent home, again, catheter intact to wait for a phone call for an appointment to have it removed. The call never came.

Juan was also waiting on a call for an appointment for when he was to return to the hospital to have the port put in. That call never came either.

Now I swear that what I am about to say is not something that I am making up- I can't swear on a stack of bibles to it's truth because I was not listening in on the conversation- but after the cluster of events over the past few days I believe this to be true...

Impatient waiting for the phone call about the catheter removal and the port installation, Juan decided to call the hospital. The hospital staff checked and told him that he was scheduled to have the port installed the next day at whatever time and that someone would be up to get him when the time came. What? Up to get him? Juan was confused- he asked "what do you mean up to get me? " the hospital staff asked, "aren't you still in room 467?" Juan says, "NO! I was released last Friday!"

For three days- the hospital still showed Juan to be in his room... am I the only one who thinks this is preposterous? I hope that I get to see the bill to see how much Medicare was charged for the three days after Juan was discharged from Maine General Augusta Hospital...