It's amazing how a simple penny war can leave you feeling like a millionaire. Saturday was a huge morale boost to someone with little money in the bank. The whole tale started with a 1st birthday party which led to my little cousins entering the sty I call a room. I don't even sleep there often so them entering was a bit unusual in itself.
of course my lovely godchild spotted two pennies on the messy floor. My other cousin was thrilled. "My class is having a penny war to raise money for Africa." A very vague statement but I assured her it was fine in fact I had a basket overflowing with pennies.
Her face lit up at that. I was thrilled to get rid of a pile of useless change as I loathe carrying the stuff. When I said it was all hers she was glowing and talking a mile a minute. "I've looked through them but please just help me find the other currencies" as mixed in were euro cents and Canadian pennies.
Being able to give when you have barely anything to your name felt amazing. I am chronically so doing anything to help others cheers me up. I used to volunteer back in the healthy days. Now I was giving out change. O how life changes us.
She left the house with my painting, pennies galore, and a smile worth millions. I felt better for a moment there knowing what little I had would help her and whatever vague plans for Africa. I wish I could do more. I would pay my parent's, mortgage, buy them their first completely new car, and take those chronically ill on vacation. We need travel escape too!
Monday, February 24, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
7 Things Learned This Chronically ill Week
1. I'm terrible at the crying feeling pity part of having a chronic illness. Ten minutes later I have to laugh because crying is such a waste of the life we've been given. Tears are to much work. Smiling is far easier on me.
2. I went to the portrait studio for those classic first birthday
photos of my niece. Lord help us all if those children are the future. If I have a
child they will not be running all over touching people's stuff and
making others want to strangle them for misbehavior. Also, every husband
should have to suffer through these. From the expressions on the poor
mother's faces I feel bad for the lecture those men will be getting for
skipping out.
3. I find it hilarious my sister changed the label of Hot Sex to Hot Birthday Fun. Gotta keep it G-rated for the baby's first birthday.
4. I love to paint. I hate painting requests. This painting pissed me off to no end because I couldn't get the eyes right. Meh. Requests are done. I'm going back to painting whatever.
5. People think origami makes you 'so talented.' Not really. I just got bored and started making Kawasaki roses to pass the time.
6. Watching Sex in the Ancient World (Egyptian Erotica) made me feel like an immature teenage boy. You're not supposed to laugh at such things even if the experts get excited to use the words 'engorged phallus.' Also, Playboy has nothing on some of those erotic scrolls.
7. Coppers is hilarious. I've learned more British insults from one episode then in my whole life. That being said, it's amazing how patient they are. American cops would just arrest the person for such behavior or whip out the pepper spray.
 |
| My niece was the best behaved kid there! Kudos to her! |
3. I find it hilarious my sister changed the label of Hot Sex to Hot Birthday Fun. Gotta keep it G-rated for the baby's first birthday.
 |
| Not a fan of this work. No more requests being taken. |
5. People think origami makes you 'so talented.' Not really. I just got bored and started making Kawasaki roses to pass the time.
6. Watching Sex in the Ancient World (Egyptian Erotica) made me feel like an immature teenage boy. You're not supposed to laugh at such things even if the experts get excited to use the words 'engorged phallus.' Also, Playboy has nothing on some of those erotic scrolls.
7. Coppers is hilarious. I've learned more British insults from one episode then in my whole life. That being said, it's amazing how patient they are. American cops would just arrest the person for such behavior or whip out the pepper spray.
Thank You All For Your Messages...Unfortunately I Had No Idea They Existed
Tonight I came across quite the surprise. Meaning hundreds of messages from readers to me through Google hangouts since I first began this blog. Since they showed up as a name with the words 'invite' I thought it was like a Facebook idea. Suggestions/people asking you to be 'friends' or whatnot. If I had known these were actually messages from people I would have replied to you asap.*
*For those who sent the 'hello beautiful, hi, can i skype w/u etc' messages. Sorry. I don't reply to those. I would say I'm flattered but I'm not. I watch far to much ID Discovery to ever consider a relationship over the internet. Not to mention, I remain happily with the long-time boyfriend.
First off, I want to apologize to everyone who asked a question pertaining to my blog. I wanted to reply to all of you, which you might find insane after several months of no answer. Unfortunately, all of this froze my computer repeatedly which I took as a sign to go easy on the Google chat. I must apologize in particular to +Kawang Wong. You were kind enough to recommend me and I must have looked like a prat when I didn't reply. I apologize once again.
Secondly, I want to thank all y'all who wrote you like to read what I write. There are far to many of you to thank so I will just have to do an all-around THANK YOU. I will do my best to make some truce with my computer & Google hangouts & myself so I can let you know that. And thank you to +Thomas Bianco regarding your advice on Lyme disease which is always a tricky bastard to diagnose.
Much Love (and a very early good morning)
~L
 |
| Good thing I made this card in advance! Love that Origami! |
First off, I want to apologize to everyone who asked a question pertaining to my blog. I wanted to reply to all of you, which you might find insane after several months of no answer. Unfortunately, all of this froze my computer repeatedly which I took as a sign to go easy on the Google chat. I must apologize in particular to +Kawang Wong. You were kind enough to recommend me and I must have looked like a prat when I didn't reply. I apologize once again.
Secondly, I want to thank all y'all who wrote you like to read what I write. There are far to many of you to thank so I will just have to do an all-around THANK YOU. I will do my best to make some truce with my computer & Google hangouts & myself so I can let you know that. And thank you to +Thomas Bianco regarding your advice on Lyme disease which is always a tricky bastard to diagnose.
Much Love (and a very early good morning)
~L
Friday, February 21, 2014
Zazzle. Creating Chronically ill Fun Since...Yesterday!
I am always looking at new things to fill my mind. Squidoo has been a bit frustrating as of late so I decided to branch out. Talk about a nightmare. Everything is so confusing when you have to figure out a whole new system! I can't complain though. The site I started on introduced me to the wonders of Zazzle.
I knew Zazzle just as a module but not as a place where you can go creatively crazy. What a delight! You get to design things (which no one will most likely buy) but who cares? It's so much fun. I finally feel like all those weird things I've stored up in my mind get to play out. Or I just like writing things on shirts. Some of them are things I would totally wear, like 'Vaccines Save Lives.' As for a shirt like GLUTARD...well...that one was compliments of my brother. When I first got diagnosed with being gluten-free he found it rather hilarious.
So hilarious he combined retard with gluten making a GLUTARD. At first I was rather peeved about the whole thing, especially when it caught on with other people. Then I let go and laughed. It's okay to be a GLUTARD. In fact it is rather humorous in the lifetimes of other diagnosis names and medical mumbo jumbo.
If you are bored or simply huddling close to your computer for warmth (did I mention it's horribly cold here?!!) then visit my Zazzle store: http://www.zazzle.com/travelluv.
I knew Zazzle just as a module but not as a place where you can go creatively crazy. What a delight! You get to design things (which no one will most likely buy) but who cares? It's so much fun. I finally feel like all those weird things I've stored up in my mind get to play out. Or I just like writing things on shirts. Some of them are things I would totally wear, like 'Vaccines Save Lives.' As for a shirt like GLUTARD...well...that one was compliments of my brother. When I first got diagnosed with being gluten-free he found it rather hilarious.
If you are bored or simply huddling close to your computer for warmth (did I mention it's horribly cold here?!!) then visit my Zazzle store: http://www.zazzle.com/travelluv.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Always a Good Time in the Medical Supply Store!
Today I did my first walk-in at my all-time favorite (and only) medical supply store. I had an appointment for next week but as I am going on vacation I decided to do the walk-in. The lady told me 'if you get there right at 9 (when they open) you shouldn't have to worry about waiting.' So there I was. Standing in the cold at 8:56 while mother and grandchild watched me from the heated car.
The people at the store are nice. They treat me like it is totally normal to see a non-senior citizen hanging around getting fitted for Jobst stockings. Of course they also sometimes forget I have been there before which I try to subtly attempt to remind them of my need for 'sandstone color' stockings which must be ordered in specially. I expected a short few minutes wait because an old hand like myself verifies insurance in advance. Plus my cardiologist was on fire yesterday. Not literally. Just figuratively at a prescription speed. Normally it might take a few days for them to fax over the new prescription but they got it done within an hour or two!
Back to the medical store, the first time I went there it was fascinating. They contain a mini-furniture store with rows and rows of armchairs. Each chair is also a 'lift.' I know because I went around trying them out before getting to one which had a clear sign stating to 'not sit on lift chairs.' After that awkward moment I wandered over to the other area. There it looks a bit like the IKEA store with room scenarios all ready for you to walk into. Except this would be the IKEA home hospital version. Complete with sit-up tub for optimal enjoyment.
Having gotten considerably more mature about the place I sat there entertaining the baby while waiting..and waiting. Quite insane is the whole process when you consider what they actually do. Once you get called into the private (actually very nice) fitting room you get measured for your stockings. Or in my case you scandalize the workers by taking off your Jobst stockings without the delicate required touch. Definite frowns on that one.
The lady was quite the pro. She measured my leg in about 30 seconds while simultatneously asking me the usual questions. Have I grown? (Not since I was about 13)...and other stuff. Then we proceeded to discuss how we are both shrinking in height and 'o by the way..we don't have your size in sandstone or black color.' Blast! She even called two other stores with no luck.
I'm glad she was also kind enough to not point out it's not usually people my size who are in need of prescription compression stockings. Nor did she ask me about my health. I just gave the usual 'I've got a lot of health problems' and that was that. Excellent fitter (the term they use their for sales rep). I was ready to go once I stepped out of the fitting room. Alas, insurance stuff along with a hefty price tag are required before you go on your way.
While she worked like a speed demon through the documents I got tired of picking up the baby's toys (she recently discovered the art of 'I drop it. You all pick it up') and wandered over to their selection of 'exciting canes.' Hell yes! They are exciting. Their was a walking stick which looked suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy's in Harry Potter. Then there were bright designs, old school wood ones, ones sporting fake bling, and on and on. I was excited until spotting the prices. Who knew canes were so bloody expensive? I didn't. Then again, mine are all from other people. Someone actually gave me a cane as a gift. I didn't even know them but they knew me through my father. I wasn't sure if I should take the cane as a depressing moment or not. Hmmm.
On a lighter note: I found out the importance of having the option of attractive compression stockings. They don't have to be white & hideous! I wrote a lens on squidoo about it. I found it rather funny but as for commissions it is one of my top earners. You can check it out here: Attractive Compression Stockings for Venous Disorders
I also am all for celebrating the cane. So I celebrated by writing a lens on how easy it is to think of your cane as a medical accessory versus a horrid handicap. What can I say? I have an odd view of what life has dealt me. You can find that lens here: My Cane. My Medical Accessory.
 |
| O. Those sexy compression stockings! |
The people at the store are nice. They treat me like it is totally normal to see a non-senior citizen hanging around getting fitted for Jobst stockings. Of course they also sometimes forget I have been there before which I try to subtly attempt to remind them of my need for 'sandstone color' stockings which must be ordered in specially. I expected a short few minutes wait because an old hand like myself verifies insurance in advance. Plus my cardiologist was on fire yesterday. Not literally. Just figuratively at a prescription speed. Normally it might take a few days for them to fax over the new prescription but they got it done within an hour or two!
Back to the medical store, the first time I went there it was fascinating. They contain a mini-furniture store with rows and rows of armchairs. Each chair is also a 'lift.' I know because I went around trying them out before getting to one which had a clear sign stating to 'not sit on lift chairs.' After that awkward moment I wandered over to the other area. There it looks a bit like the IKEA store with room scenarios all ready for you to walk into. Except this would be the IKEA home hospital version. Complete with sit-up tub for optimal enjoyment.
Having gotten considerably more mature about the place I sat there entertaining the baby while waiting..and waiting. Quite insane is the whole process when you consider what they actually do. Once you get called into the private (actually very nice) fitting room you get measured for your stockings. Or in my case you scandalize the workers by taking off your Jobst stockings without the delicate required touch. Definite frowns on that one.
The lady was quite the pro. She measured my leg in about 30 seconds while simultatneously asking me the usual questions. Have I grown? (Not since I was about 13)...and other stuff. Then we proceeded to discuss how we are both shrinking in height and 'o by the way..we don't have your size in sandstone or black color.' Blast! She even called two other stores with no luck.
I'm glad she was also kind enough to not point out it's not usually people my size who are in need of prescription compression stockings. Nor did she ask me about my health. I just gave the usual 'I've got a lot of health problems' and that was that. Excellent fitter (the term they use their for sales rep). I was ready to go once I stepped out of the fitting room. Alas, insurance stuff along with a hefty price tag are required before you go on your way.
While she worked like a speed demon through the documents I got tired of picking up the baby's toys (she recently discovered the art of 'I drop it. You all pick it up') and wandered over to their selection of 'exciting canes.' Hell yes! They are exciting. Their was a walking stick which looked suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy's in Harry Potter. Then there were bright designs, old school wood ones, ones sporting fake bling, and on and on. I was excited until spotting the prices. Who knew canes were so bloody expensive? I didn't. Then again, mine are all from other people. Someone actually gave me a cane as a gift. I didn't even know them but they knew me through my father. I wasn't sure if I should take the cane as a depressing moment or not. Hmmm.
On a lighter note: I found out the importance of having the option of attractive compression stockings. They don't have to be white & hideous! I wrote a lens on squidoo about it. I found it rather funny but as for commissions it is one of my top earners. You can check it out here: Attractive Compression Stockings for Venous Disorders
I also am all for celebrating the cane. So I celebrated by writing a lens on how easy it is to think of your cane as a medical accessory versus a horrid handicap. What can I say? I have an odd view of what life has dealt me. You can find that lens here: My Cane. My Medical Accessory.
Monday, February 17, 2014
A 10-Second Poem on Why I've Been Away
I haven't been updating my blog
because, you see, I've been in a bit of a fog.
This body of mine
Has not been working just fine.
Thank goodness people no longer think I'm 'slipping away.'
Hearing words like that is just not okay.
I think I have just been a bit lazy
All these medical problems drive my body a bit crazy.
They've inspired me to keep work on my book.
And yesterday I gave you a bit of a look.
The title, Life in the Slow Lane,
may sound mundane.
But if you know me
then you will see
just what I mean
perhaps that remains to be seen.
I promise you will not find
any 10-second poems which spring to mind.
Although I do enjoy these.
They aim to please.
For my brother these poems I write
because they make him smile in delight.
Right now I need a nap
so I won't bother you with any more of this sap.
So may...
you have a very happy February Day!
~L
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Pain
I have lived with pain my whole life. In fact I never realized pain was something unusual for most people. The first time I realized it was years into my college experience. We were on our way to take a boat ride on a local lake for Ecology. I mentioned vaguely I suffered from migraines almost every day. My professor, who also happened to be my boss, looked amazed. "You have migraines all the time? Really?"
I suppose this must have been news for him. My life has always involved keeping quiet over pain. In my world of travel you learned very quickly to deal with the pain and move on. No one wants to listen to you whine about something which cannot be helped. I dealt with the pain by becoming Excedrin's number one customer.
Neurologists have tried their best to find cures to my excruciating migraines. One brutal experience for a nasal spray cure seemed to be a miracle. Until two hours later the migraine returned with one hell of a vengeance. Almost like it was spiting me for the stupid belief I could fool it into disappearing. We tried pills. One worked for about a month. I was migraine free for the first time ever. Life without the pain was astonishing. Too bad it only lasted a month before they returned. Less powerful but still there.
The medication was difficult on my body with the results only being half-ass I decided enough was enough. Besides, Dr. Frizzy-hair was actually a massive asshole in disguise who hurt my chronically ill case more than helped. I was quite pissed at her for a very very long few months. There are times when I wish I could have hung a sign in front of her door alerting the world she was a viper in disguise.
I have had cysts which leaked until the pain was unbearable. Dealt with migraines so severe unless an ER visit could stop them. Had one brutal kidney infection I did my best to hide until I was reduced to sobs. Life handed me pain and I have been told I have 'a very high tolerance for it.'
Those first few weeks of being chronically ill were blurred. The pain was not there...yet. Then one day it showed up like an infestation. I found myself starting a 'game.' Where will the pain be today? Sometimes it was in my back. Other times the migraines were more extreme than ever. Sometimes it was in my eyes making the light feel like it was stabbing through to my brain.
I gained a new respect for people who have conditions like fibromyalgia. How could anyone live with pain which cannot be seen to the world? I used to wish I had broken a limb so there would be a reason for such pain. Maybe it was stupidity or just hopeless thinking. I used to use pain as an escape back in the days before I truly appreciated the gift of life. There was a void inside of me which left me believing only pain could stop it. To this day I still bear numerous very ugly scars. My boyfriend claims he 'doesn't even notice them.' I do. They cannot be removed. I have tried to hide them from the world. I tried tanning. Now I know better. The only way to ensure they blend is by keeping very pale. My friends who worked in retail with me used to be astonished at my paleness. They would say 'the pale look works for you. Pale never looked good on me!' I could never bring myself to share the reason for being so pale. Life's dark secrets are best hidden from view or so I told myself.
Being chronically ill has taught me pain will never be an answer. I could cause myself pain but why bother? I live with it all over again. Life never fails to shower you with irony. I could cry, scream, rant at God for being so unfair.\
My little sister once got angry with me. "You smile, talk, and laugh then claim you are in pain! In nursing we think those people are the ones who are just asking for painkillers because they are addicts!" I told her any doctor could look in my chart. Going to the Emergency Room always has a reason. Spontaneous pneumothorax, pinched nerve leading to severe migraine, ovarian cyst leaking fluid (later got removed..ha..more pain), and severe kidney infection. Need I go on?
"What's your pain level? From 1 to 10?" She now asks me. "Compared to what precisely?" How do you measure pain when it is such a large part of your life? I just go about comparing it with other more painful situations. How can I complain when I don't know any other life?
In the days before this chronic illness nonsense I thought I deserved the pain. People don't deserve pain. Even the doctors who made my health situation worse do not deserve it. I would not wish it on any one. When I look in the mirror I do my best not to see pain. You need to keep it from your expressions, your body language, and keep quiet. Hide behind waterproof mascara. Look like the picture of healthy perfection to keep the pain a lie.
If the thought disgusts people then think of how the world reacts to those in pain. No one wants to hear it. People with pain which has no 'physical appearance' are ignored. I know all to well. Why else would I refuse to visit the ER unless I know the pain is so unbearable there must absolutely be a cause? What is this life without a little pain? Or perhaps a great deal of pain?
~Excerpt from Life in the Slow Lane
I suppose this must have been news for him. My life has always involved keeping quiet over pain. In my world of travel you learned very quickly to deal with the pain and move on. No one wants to listen to you whine about something which cannot be helped. I dealt with the pain by becoming Excedrin's number one customer.
Neurologists have tried their best to find cures to my excruciating migraines. One brutal experience for a nasal spray cure seemed to be a miracle. Until two hours later the migraine returned with one hell of a vengeance. Almost like it was spiting me for the stupid belief I could fool it into disappearing. We tried pills. One worked for about a month. I was migraine free for the first time ever. Life without the pain was astonishing. Too bad it only lasted a month before they returned. Less powerful but still there.
The medication was difficult on my body with the results only being half-ass I decided enough was enough. Besides, Dr. Frizzy-hair was actually a massive asshole in disguise who hurt my chronically ill case more than helped. I was quite pissed at her for a very very long few months. There are times when I wish I could have hung a sign in front of her door alerting the world she was a viper in disguise.
I have had cysts which leaked until the pain was unbearable. Dealt with migraines so severe unless an ER visit could stop them. Had one brutal kidney infection I did my best to hide until I was reduced to sobs. Life handed me pain and I have been told I have 'a very high tolerance for it.'
Those first few weeks of being chronically ill were blurred. The pain was not there...yet. Then one day it showed up like an infestation. I found myself starting a 'game.' Where will the pain be today? Sometimes it was in my back. Other times the migraines were more extreme than ever. Sometimes it was in my eyes making the light feel like it was stabbing through to my brain.
I gained a new respect for people who have conditions like fibromyalgia. How could anyone live with pain which cannot be seen to the world? I used to wish I had broken a limb so there would be a reason for such pain. Maybe it was stupidity or just hopeless thinking. I used to use pain as an escape back in the days before I truly appreciated the gift of life. There was a void inside of me which left me believing only pain could stop it. To this day I still bear numerous very ugly scars. My boyfriend claims he 'doesn't even notice them.' I do. They cannot be removed. I have tried to hide them from the world. I tried tanning. Now I know better. The only way to ensure they blend is by keeping very pale. My friends who worked in retail with me used to be astonished at my paleness. They would say 'the pale look works for you. Pale never looked good on me!' I could never bring myself to share the reason for being so pale. Life's dark secrets are best hidden from view or so I told myself.
Being chronically ill has taught me pain will never be an answer. I could cause myself pain but why bother? I live with it all over again. Life never fails to shower you with irony. I could cry, scream, rant at God for being so unfair.\
My little sister once got angry with me. "You smile, talk, and laugh then claim you are in pain! In nursing we think those people are the ones who are just asking for painkillers because they are addicts!" I told her any doctor could look in my chart. Going to the Emergency Room always has a reason. Spontaneous pneumothorax, pinched nerve leading to severe migraine, ovarian cyst leaking fluid (later got removed..ha..more pain), and severe kidney infection. Need I go on?
"What's your pain level? From 1 to 10?" She now asks me. "Compared to what precisely?" How do you measure pain when it is such a large part of your life? I just go about comparing it with other more painful situations. How can I complain when I don't know any other life?
In the days before this chronic illness nonsense I thought I deserved the pain. People don't deserve pain. Even the doctors who made my health situation worse do not deserve it. I would not wish it on any one. When I look in the mirror I do my best not to see pain. You need to keep it from your expressions, your body language, and keep quiet. Hide behind waterproof mascara. Look like the picture of healthy perfection to keep the pain a lie.
If the thought disgusts people then think of how the world reacts to those in pain. No one wants to hear it. People with pain which has no 'physical appearance' are ignored. I know all to well. Why else would I refuse to visit the ER unless I know the pain is so unbearable there must absolutely be a cause? What is this life without a little pain? Or perhaps a great deal of pain?
~Excerpt from Life in the Slow Lane
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)