"Have You Ever Seen The Rain".....

"Someone told me long ago, there's a calm before the storm.

I know.  It's been coming for some time."

Do these lyrics ever resound in my heart.

I'm a little put off by the rain, especially in December.  It's been almost a year, and I remember the rain coming down (lightly) the morning I was hit by a car.  I couldn't imagine the day when rehabilitation and pain would give me a break.  I prayed that the first 6 months would be over, and they finally are.  The year started off slow and grueling and has sped up according to tradition.  

 You know, the post-Halloween parade of holidays that seem to be about a week apart?  Christmas songs in every store around the 1st week of November, the anticipation of "Black Friday", which has grown into "Cyber Monday", and "Wednesday's Deals", the traditional sayings, which resound like clockwork:

• "Wow, can you believe Thanksgiving is here again?  Before you know it, it'll be New Year's Day"
• "What are you looking to buy on Black Friday"
• "I'm not even ready for Thanksgiving, let alone Christmas"
• Where did the last 3 months go?
  

It's such casual dialog with such hidden stress and expectation behind it.  I've learned to simplify my needs, celebrate what I have (not wallow over what I've lost), and have agreed to grow while consciously pushing fear to the side.  Because I'm human, I'll have days that SUCK and days that are great, but now the perspective has changed.  I do get crazy, everyone knows I'm a nut, but I try to imagine myself in 10 years reflecting on who I was today.  I want to be proud of the person who got up everyday and fought the good fight while maintaining temper and grace.

 And......

Here's a recap of my Thanksgiving.  Ollie and his girlfriend went to her families while me and mom had a nice quiet dinner at home provided by one of her customers.  A Gelson's dinner for 2, and no clean up = a happy mom.  

Political and historical opinions aside,  I'm simply thankful.  Everything that God, my mentors, and friends have given me, prepared me for the hardest time of my life.  You've made me a good person and in turn you were there to visit me in the ICU (while in the rotisserie bed), you took time out of your schedules and made your way to "The Valley" to bring books, stickers, cards, music, conversation, hugs, kisses, tissue for the tears, and a TON of prayers.  You even gave me an "O.K." to pass gas because I never knew when my body was going to act up.  LOL.  These things are priceless.  And as it happens, thanks to ALL of you, my needs have been met.  All of them.  I've cried less, worried less, and have smiled more. Thank you

Gosh, this all reminds me of a song we used to sing in church.  There was a bridge which said:

I'm pressed but not crushed persecuted not abandoned
Struck down but not destroyed
I'm blessed beyond the curse for his promise will endure
And his joy's gonna be my strength

Though the sorrow may last for the night
His joy comes with the morning!

This is where my strength arises from.

Have you ever seen the rain?

Music

Music seems to say what I can't.  One of my favorite albums of all time is "Grace" by Jeff Buckley.  He was an amazing artist and died way too young, but here's one of my favorite songs.  He inspires me to write.

Lover, You Should've Come Over

Looking out the door i see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water

And maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
 
But tonight you're on my mind so you never know

When i'm broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it
Where are you tonight, child you know how much i need it
 

Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run 

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun
And much too blind to see the damage he's done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one
So i'll wait for you... and i'll burn
 Will I ever see your sweet return
Oh will I ever learn
Oh lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
 

My body turns and yearns for a sleep that will never come
It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Well maybe i'm just too young
To keep good love from going wrong Oh... lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Well I feel too young to hold on
And i'm much too old to break free and run
 
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage i've done
Sweet lover, you should've come over
 

Oh, love well i'm waiting for you Lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late 

Faith & Trust

Disclaimer:  I do count my blessings and know that He is in control.  But it's natural to have these thoughts running around.  They happen frequently, but I know to stop, breathe, and look to God for understanding, wisdom, and peace.

I've had so much time to think.


You always wonder what you did wrong.

Loaded questions are endless...

Why did life turn out like this?

     Why didn't I ever want -or dream about- marriage                  or kids (before)? 

                 Why am I so self-sabotaging when it comes to relationships? 

          

                                         What *exactly* makes me unattractive, besides the weight? 

...

There are a thousand answers (right & wrong) and it could be anything.

I get the part that childhood plays; the psychological effects of bad parenting, traumatic events that occur in your adolescent life, friends and peer pressure.  It's a multifaceted environment that's not so easily understood, unique to the individual.  Though at every event, someone's been there to help bring me through, to throw out a lifesaver when I was in need.  Life is pain, yet by choice, if you allow yourself, you can see that the good days are worth waiting for, worth surviving for.  Most of us figure that around the age of 30.

I watched a sermon last week that reminded me that confidence cannot be taken nor robbed from you.  It must be given away by you and lost by your own doing.  It reminded me that having faith in the one that made me was as important as trusting that He would also carry me through this phase of my life and that I could be confident.  Faith was described as the practical outward expression of confidence in God.  Trust was the ability to continually have trust even when tried.  Faith and Trust.

The visual aid was a chair.  You usually have faith in a chair.  It's ability to hold you doesn't really come to mind and you sit with confidence.  BUT, if it breaks (for whatever reason) will you just not sit in chairs again?  Or will you understand that that broken chair doesn't represent all chairs?  

If my heart is broken once, will I avoid all relationships?  If I have a car accident, does it mean I quit driving?  If my dance partner drops me, will I not dance with him again?  Well, the last one.... lol. 

If I'm hit by a hit&run driver and am paralyzed from the waist down, will I lose my trust in God? 

No.

For me it is that simple.   The reason being that internally, I feel better than before.  My soul, my spirit have been restored.  Externally I'm broken, but the inside is strong.  How are you internally?  I was broken, though it wasn't visible.  As much as I miss my life prior to injury, I don't think I would change this.  (But something less traumatic would've been okay, right? lol)  ::sigh::

The following is easy to say, yet not an easy perspective to have in the midst of a storm:

"Don't tell God you've got a big problem,

tell your problems you've got a big God.".

.

ZZZzzZzzzZZzzz (Z) is for Sleep

My Coworker used to say, "My kingdom for sleep..."  I think we all feel that way sometimes, especially those of you with kiddies.

Two nights ago I watched a documentary about sleep, more like the lack of it, with respect to the movie production industry.  On set people work 15-18 hour days on average and as usual, it took the death of a director for people to stand up and demand 12 hour maximum days, at least within the U.S..  Europeans innately understand the idea and principal of rest, and therefore have conflicts with U.S. production crews when they film abroad with their "you can sleep when you're dead" attitude.  I guess you can hide overtime in a budget, but not extra days.

A medical team performed a sleep-study and the effects of sufficient/insufficient sleep on the brain.  It's funny to think that humans are the only beings on Earth that try to fight sleep.  All other creatures sleep when they're tired. Hmmm.  While watching the documentary I flashbacked  to the past; driving when I was ridiculously tired, the missing of freeway exits, seeing things that weren't there, etc.   I read an article that stated that being awake for 18 hours was equivalent to having a blood alcohol content (b.a.c.) level of 0.7, and being up for 24 hours was equivalent to a b.a.c. of 1.0. (drunk).  Now imagine working or driving like that? (http://moneywatch.bnet.com/career-advice/article/sleep-well-and-prosper/275734/)

In a hospital, you don't sleep much either.  I was hospitalized from 12/25/08-4/3/09 and I didn't sleep a full night the entire time.  Funny how they want you to rest, but wake you up every other hour.  I was woken up every 2 hours at night to be turned (just to prevent pressure wounds/bed sores), and woken up every day @ 5:30 a.m. to get bathed, and if not then, then at 6:00 a.m. to take meds.  Everyday in rehab was a barrage of physical/occupational therapy.  Free time was me getting in and out of bed, changing clothes, and getting my brace on and off.  I had a few moments on Sundays to just rest and visit with friends.

Now I can sleep about 6 hours straight unless I have to empty my bladder or turn myself.  I'm still a night owl, but can sleep in a little more these days.

But oh, my kingdom for sleep.  Do you feel me?

and...
HAPPY 40TH ANNIVERSARY TO SESAME STREET!

Constant Adjustment

I'm unsure why, but I'm only inspired to write when I'm in agony and am compelled to write in order to keep everybody up to date with my progress.  In the end, I always feel better after jotting it down.  

Last night, Halloween, my brother had friends over in the evening for a potluck.  No one was really expected to dress up, yet some did, even the pets. lol.  My brother's dog is like family, so their friends also brought their "kids"....a.k.a. pets.  Halloween allows us to be someone we're not during the other 364 days of the year, so in the spirit of dressing up, all I could really do was my makeup a little more extravagant, and a little more orange.  As I finished up I was looking for my false eyelashes and remembered that I had about 20 in my room up stairs.  I asked my mom to bring my camera to photograph the room in order for me to tell her where to look.

When I saw the photos, I snapped for some reason.  They triggered me emotionally into a state of anger.  Anger about my situation in general.  I went from having a room to living in the former living room downstairs.  This was due to the accessibility issue.  Our house has 2 flights of stairs that I cannot ascend and we've been sloooowly making this as much of a living area as possible.  It's reminiscent of a Manhattan  apartment....small.  (At least, there's no room mates.)

Thankfully there's a wooden floor that's easy to roll around on.  As far as furniture goes, I've got a hospital bed w/ a trapeze for me to grab on to, my brother's old desk-so that I could work and do bills, and some basic necessities, you know, a  microwave, mini fridge, and a toaster.  An old kitchen table from the garage serves as extra work space or a table so people can eat with me.  The old wall unit was converted from holding dvds, books, and memorabilia, to a storage area for my clothes, medical supplies, food, and some of my books and miscellaneous items.  I don't have any drawers yet (7 months later).

I have difficult reaching things that are too high or too low, so every bit of space counts and I'm really anxious to make this work because every day that it doesn't reminds me of how much my situations sucks.  I feel like I've been uprooted and imprisoned into a life which I did not expect.  My room upstairs never seemed so far and to see the pictures really bothered me.  My family has slowly been doing the "let's clean up and put the stuff in her room for now until we can figure what to do with it" thing so it's slowly becoming a room of crap AGAIN.  GOD, just get rid of the stuff, we live down the street from a Goodwill for crying out loud.  How much easier does it have to get?   We're not going to break apart the puzzles to do them again....He-LOOOO!

Then nobody could find my bag of eyelashes and I can't recall if I took them down to storage or not.  I just want to ransack my room, AND I CAN'T.  I want to rummage through my drawers AND I CAN'T.  What really bothers me is that I have to wait on people to help me, and I want to do things NOW.  Only when I get really upset does my family stop and help me.  I don't like being upset, it's annoying, and I hate whiny people.  Ugh.  Frequently I want to pick stuff up and chuck it across the room so that it's utterly destroyed, then realize that I'd need help to clean it up.  Then I get really fired up and have to pray to God for His peace and understanding.

I miss privacy and quiet.  I stay up pretty late to enjoy the quiet wee hours of the night.  Right outside of the  sliding glass door is our abnormally loud beast of an a/c unit which makes it difficult to hear the t.v. or read.  Above my area is the kitchen, so there's constant clanging, dish washing, newspaper rustling, and foot traffic.  At the top of the stairs, next to the kitchen, is my brother's t.v. which can get loud when it's on (stupid commercial audio levels), or when he's playing video games.  It's like dueling banjos and it seems like I'm the only one cautious and respectful enough to adjust my volume in case it's too loud.  Our house is pretty open so I can hear pretty much everything.....everything....EVERYTHING.  I smell when the refrigerator is open, I hear my brother's dog run around, I smell the air as it spirals around the house when any doors are opened.

The cherry on top last night was my brother fighting with mom.  He was upset about something she had misplaced and was trying to get her to understand the point he wanted to make.  Have you ever poked a bear with a short stick?  It was the wrong time to upset her.  It was late, she was tired, and she had to help me into bed.  I haven't heard mom yell like that since I was in high school.  I wanted to tell him to shut the "F" up and leave her alone.  Make your point later!  Right now, feelings are settling down and it'll be brought up sooner or later because as much as you're upset with mom you can't just keep pissing her off hoping to get somewhere.  


........sigh........

I miss being able to take refuge in the quiet recesses of my room.  No noise, no cooking, no dogs, no overheard conversations.  Just me, the kitties, a glass of water, and quiet. 

If I could just make it there....

I find peace and solace in prayer, in the Bible, in music, and in my dreams, where I walk, dance, laugh, and am free.

Links to My Other Blogs

Hey all, on the right side I've put a links section to my other blogs.  Cheers!

For the Hillcrest Family

On October 17th, I was privileged to speak once again at my Jr. High School.  I was given 5 minutes to speak to the families of students, former and present, as well as current staff.  It was a campaign to present the project that lie ahead.  The moving of the high school students to another location about 2 miles away.  I had told my girlfriends that I would let them know when it was happening to have them attend but thought otherwise due to the brief amount of time given to me.  Honestly I thought they'd get bored and wish to be doing something else on a beautiful warm Saturday morning.  

I was wrong to do that.  I wish that they would've been there to see what the school had become.  The day was opened by the sound of angels.  I believe their choir is called The Harvest Ensemble.  This group of high school students have traveled the world just to sing, and with more than good reason.  It was the sweetest sound to my ears.

That was followed by 3 testimonies; a 10th grader's, mine, and a school grandmother.  Mr. Kendrick talked about Mr. Armstrong which almost brought me to tears.  He spoke not only about the way he got Gary to come to the school and teach, but how they played the worst practical jokes on each other.  One incident that stood out was one where Mr. Kendrick shut the elevator down while Mr. Armstrong was stuck inside resulting with Mr. Armstrong screaming like a girl and confessing in the elevator all of the sins he committed.  Christians have a funny sense of humor, and I totally get it. lol. 

I was seated at the table with Carianne, my mother and the whole Kendrick gang, sans Joshua as he had just had surgery.  I met Joshua's and Michael's wifeS and saw Aaron.  Girls, just to get an idea of how long it's been, Mr. Kendrick's daughter is now 22 and Mr. Haliday's daughter is 13.  Ugh. lol.

I wanted to share, with you (the girls), a portion of my testimony because I know it answers an age-old question that Christians have.  It's a portion of a devotional that just made everything make sense.  "Why do bad things happen to good people?"

"Wherefore hast thou afflicted thy servant?" 
              -- Numbers 11:11

(An excerpt from Charles Spurgeon's daily devotional)

Our heavenly Father sends us frequent troubles to try our faith. If our faith be worth anything, it will stand the test. Gilt is afraid of fire, but gold is not: the paste gem dreads to be touched by the diamond, but the true jewel fears no test. It is a poor faith which can only trust God when friends are true, the body full of health, and the business profitable; but that is true faith which holds by the Lord's faithfulness when friends are gone, when the body is sick, when spirits
are depressed, and the light of our Father's countenance is hidden. A faith which can say, in the direst trouble, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him," is heaven-born faith. The Lord afflicts his servants to glorify himself, for he is greatly glorified in the graces of his people, which are his own handiwork. When "tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope," the Lord is
honoured by these growing virtues.

We should never know the music of the harp if the strings were left untouched; nor enjoy the juice of the grape if it were not trodden in the winepress; nor discover the sweet
perfume of cinnamon if it were not pressed and beaten; nor feel the warmth of fire if the coals were not utterly consumed.

The wisdom and power of the great Workman are discovered by the trials through which his vessels of mercy are permitted to pass. Present afflictions tend also to heighten future joy. There must be shades in the picture to bring out the beauty of the lights. Could we be so supremely blessed in heaven, if we had not known the curse of sin and the sorrow of earth?
 

Will not peace be sweeter after conflict, and rest more welcome after toil?

Will not the recollection of past sufferings enhance the bliss of the glorified?

There are many other comfortable answers to the question with which we opened our brief meditation, let us muse upon it all day long.

My conclusion was this:

I heard somewhere that Jesus talked about and loved the idea of transformation and how it happens.  It doesn't happen when you're loved, but when you love someone else, no matter how hard it is to do so.  And I believe that's what we received at Hillcrest, God only knows we weren't always the easiest kids to love.

Aaron, Rebecca, Michael, Mr. Kendrick, and me.

Put the Pedal to the Metal!

Last week I took on the challenge (emotional and financial) and completed my Driver's Preparation program.  It's run me about $1400 so far, but it's money well spent.  I passed with flying colors and am en route to getting my license.....Now to find money for a car. lol.  

I haven't driven for over a year so it felt really really good to get out on the road again.  Even the freeway wasn't as bad as I thought it would've been.  

Stay off the sidewalks!  lol.....okay, not funny.

side note:  I almost bought a shirt that said, "Honk if you're about to run me over!"  I don't think the peeps at my Spinal Cord Injury support group would appreciate it since a majority of us were victims of car accidents.  I think it's funny.  sorry.

The Drive

A good friend of mine, now a licensed therapist, came to visit me in the hospital one day. She said something so important to me, something that I have to remind myself of everyday. "Don't have survivor guilt".  I hear the cliche over and over again, "It could've been worse, count your blessings".  Separating yourself from yourself is mind consuming.  I've arrived at a happy medium.  I'm thankful that I'm alive, I count my blessings daily, I pray (talk) to God everyday about EVERYTHING and tell myself that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be and that everything is in perfect working order.  I accept it.  There, I said it. lol

I was on my way to Cedars Sinai today to get some papers filled out by my Dr.  While on the ride down the 405 I was thinking.  Because let's face it, being on the 405 South at 9:30 a.m. is just as good as sitting in a parking lot.  I threw on my ipod and started listening to a great salsa song and the thoughts started rolling around.  I thought, "God I have to walk again.  I can't imagine my life without dancing.".  To be given a gift (dancing) and to have it taken away was devastating.  It's where I felt at home aside from singing in church.   I haven't been able to sing like I used to but am working on that.  And remember I can sing, I don't saaaaaang, okay?  And I know there's such things as ballroom wheelchair dancing, but it's not the same.  It's just NOT.  Not to put it down, but it's like painting with a computer mouse; you can do it, but it's not the same, though it would be pretty interesting.  Like the guy who did typewriter art......

I digress. 

So I've arrived at the season of my life where I seriously accept and contemplate the idea of getting married and having little rugrats.  I never wanted either till about two years ago.  I love the idea, I love kids, in fact I'm friggin' awesome with kids and they love me, yet the idea of having my own scared the hell out of me.  You know when you get those dumb ideas like, "What if I roll over my kid while he's sleeping next to me?". lol  I guess that comes with commitment-phobia.  But I'm ready.  I actually want it, really.  I'm a little late in the dating game and I don't see my condition as a deal-breaker, but just another thing about me that someone would have to accept.  

I want to stand and dance at my own wedding.  I want Ollie or Mr. Foster to give me away to the awesome guy that's out there.  And I don't want to just have a first dance, I want to dance till 3 a.m. until my feet fall off because they're throbbing.  I'm throwing it out there to God and the universe.  I want it.  I want to walk, I want to get back in the gym, I want to walk my kids to school, I want to jump on the subway and go wherever without having to think about whether my destination is or isn't wheelchair accessible, I want to travel, and I definitely want to be an awesome testimony to God's great power and mercy.  I am waiting.

I WANT IT!

Small update

I'm starting to feel the muscles inside of my left hip, though I can't physically feel touch there yet.

carry on!

FIRSTS

Everyday is difficult and full of pain, but I can say that the known difficulties and pains are reducing....only to present different challenges. Nothing new for any of us though. Now that the really difficult part is over I'm being presented with time and organization challenges. These are old friends as they've always been my downfall. I keep track of appointments, body maintenance, paperwork galore, and now I'm reintroducing social appointments. :)


I'm experiencing "firsts" all over again. My first major accident, my first major surgery, my first wheelchair, and a cornucopia of firsts in the sense that everything I used to do needs adapting to.






But good "firsts" have come to pass as well. Including several speaking engagements at my old Jr. High school, Hillcrest Christian, and at churches. The first time at Hillcrest blessed me with the presence of girlfriends from my Jr. High. With the help of Facebook and old connections I was able to see them after twenty some odd years. I was relieved to know that they were successful and doing well and fighting the good fight like we all do, meaning that they're dealing with life along with it's challenges and victories........like we all do. There were fifth graders with a sense of wonder in seeing a tangible group of people that were once in their shoes, in their school, while eager, giddy kindergardeners were in front speaking about their favorite colors and raising their hands with the only reason being that everybody else was raising their hands. In fact, one of the young girls was the daughter of an old school mate. Wow, how time flies.

In the hospital, I met some family from my dad's side for the firs time, even though they've lived in Southern Cali for the last, well, forever.

I've also experienced first outings by myself. I now am able to see my therapists and doctors with zero to minimal assistance. Yesterday I was able to DRIVE with hand controls during my first session of driver's prep. Woo hoo dance!

Last night was the best "first" though. I went to our salsa social (Alhambra) by myself. Though it ended a little early, it was so awesome to watch the dancing and catch up with old friends. It had been a full year since I had been there. I had come full circle.


So there are many "firsts" to come and you'll be the first to know.;)

Tick tick tick

The hands of time are turning and everything that seems coincidental, is not. It's evidential. My time at home is coming to an end and life indicators have been pointing out to me that transition is coming yet again and I will be back at work in no time. This makes me happy because it means that my prayer has been answered. It was a prayer to God for endurance, peace, patience, and HOPE. I wanted to survive this crucial/cruel adjustment period. I've gone from barely wheeling around to going down the block, doing laundry, and being able to do passive hobbies at home with little assistance.

My hours (sick & vacation time) are running low which means that I'll be surviving on state disability (60% of your pay), but on a positive note my expenses are winding down. Lawyer and state expenses aside, I'm happy to say that I'm just about credit card free. I've got about $1000 or so to pay off. I've also got a ton of Christmas gifts that were never given away last year due to me being unavailable, so I've got stuff to give away already without the hassle of shopping. LOL. Don't get me wrong, I'm a girl who gets her kicks shopping, but not having to go is great.

I've also begun outpatient physical therapy, (FINALLY) So far I'm happy with the therapists I've met, as they seem competent in working with "my patient population". That sounds so weird, but as long as they're great, I'm happy.

Last night I dreamed about my office and coworkers. Each and everyone are unique in the sense that each has a different type of insanity to add to the pot. One is notorious for having a BAD attitude and temper tantrums yet has the least reason to own either one of these admirable qualities. A majority of her time is spent on the phone with siblings and spouse, doing online banking, or doing something else that's not work-related. In my dream she was really cranky, like a child who sulks in a corner to have a temper tantrum in which no remedy would suffice. Oddly enough my retired co-worker called me from the Philippines to ask me for my address. We ended up discussing family work and other details that we usually catch up on. She asked about the girls at work. I didn't know how to reply because so many changes have occurred since the restructuring of our department. New computer systems can do that to a company. Then today, my co-worker called me to say hello and check up on me. I talked to all the girls and said quick "Hellos" and "I miss yous". When I told them about my dream, they laughed and confirmed that I wasn't dreaming it, but was actually channeling my co-worker. LOL. So, hours are coming to an end, physical therapy is picking up, I'm getting stronger, and work is waiting for me....


What to do.

That's all for now.

Frantic

This picture represents my thoughts right now.....a steady balancing act, but you have to read this the way I would tell it to you - all in one breath...aaand GO!

Okay, so I know I'm getting to be my old self because I'm frantic about doing a hundred things, right, the first time around and end making changes after I've accomplished what I initially wanted to do. Blah Blah Blah, that's all I hear in my head right now. Just follow me....I'll leave bread crumbs. lol.

So one thing I really love is art, not in the sense of studying it or appreciating it at a scholarly level, but in a tangible way. The cathartic feeling that is pulled out of you when you see or hear something so amazing, beautiful, soulful. Like if you're salsa dancing and you hear "That" song, or when you're singing a song as if you wrote it, or if you're attempting to draw, paint, write and you feel amazing because something inside of you, that you may or may not have been aware of, is pouring out, and it's frigging AWESOME. Don't you love surprising yourself? Hence my ridiculous "Olivia"
moment.

I found out Kooza was going to start over at the Santa Monica Pier, and me not wanting to miss out, I tell my brother about it. We get this excitement going and we're at the point of almost panicking because I want to see it so I can ball my eyes out while watching the amazingness called Cirque Du Soleil, and he wants to bring his gf for their anniversary, and we, well, just don't want to miss out. We're panicking because both of us are members of Cirque so we get advanced notice of shows, specials, etc., but this time I found out through Goldstar (Damn you Goldstar, I love you!) and he didn't know about it at all!

Cue circus music...

I get into search mode and start checking ticket availabilities. Wa-lah, I mean voila! presto, there are 4 tickets available so I buy them because I think to myself that I can get a credit if I don't use the tickets, but just want to ensure my entrance, and if it's accomplished at a Goldstar price, I'm in.

Then....wah wah wah....I check out Cirque's site and I realize that I have to call and set up arrangements for "discounted" tickets for mobile-impaired seating...wheelchair seating. I go ahead and purchase the tickets (2 - one for me and one for my "escort" ooh la la j/k") and think I'll just get a credit on Goldstar for 2 tickets.

Then....wah wah wahhhhh again....I figure out (way too late) that I could email Goldstar to figure out wheelchair accommodations. So I call Cirque back to be told that tickets are non-refundable, so I hang up. I call back again and explain my situation and find someone nice (bonjour...in a sweet voice) who helps me to cancel my tickets over the phone with a $10.00 cancellation fee. It's still okay with me.

Theeeennnnn, I wonder, what happens if Goldstar can't accommodate my seating and I have to purchase tickets AGAIN through Cirque for the right seating....and what if....what if.....what ifffff, they're not available for that date?

Inhale Exhale....whew.

I'll figure it out tomorrow. lol

At least I still have 4 tickets under my name and If I don't use 2 of them I'll be calling some of you to scalp them. HA HA!

Bare Necessities

The ring of skin at the level of my injury (T10) is always hypersensitive. The nerves are crossed, confused, or just figuring things out. It hurts to wear clothing, to bathe, and to sleep with sheets at night. I usually sleep in the buff because underwear is just a travesty to get on and wearing shirts gets annoying. (side note: I always have a set of clothes on the bed in case of emergencies.) They get bunched up behind me or just twisted around the skin. On top of that I have to worry about creases in my skin from clothing because they as well can cause pressure sores. I don't feel it if the clothing is pinching me or if it's not fitting correctly from my belly button, down so I've got to be on top of it all the time.

When I lived on my own, I did like most bachelors/bachelorettes would do. I would walk around and sleep in my underwear. Hey, if you got a place of your own and you feel comfortable in your skibbies, I say, run free! I frequently felt hot (I guess being overweight didn't help. lol) and so I liked to wear little to nothing at home. I even slept in my undies. While being at the hospital many things caused irregular temperature patterns, be it infections or my body adjusting to the stress of all of the physical change and/or shock. In the ICU I was known as "the flasher" because I would reach temperatures upwards towards 102 F consistently and throw off my covers and gown. I was notorious for just laying the gown on me instead of wearing it. I would lie there naked with tons of ice packs and cold towels during the most uncomfortable bouts of fever. A lot of nurses attempted to cover me up, but I would fight them and explain to them that if they, or the Dr.s, had not seen a human body, then they shouldn't be working there. As a compromise, I agreed to draw the curtains so that other passer-byers wouldn't freak out. Like they'd never seen a naked body. Do people shower with their eyes closed? lol. Ugh, clothing, actually.....ugh, pain. It sucks.

Mom's Rhythm

The intent of this blog was to keep you informed of who I was, who I am and who I am becoming. It would only make sense to blog about the ones I love. This one's about mom.


Me and mom usually go out together, and usually with mutual ulterior motives in mind. I get her out to get her walking and away from the stress at home, and she gets me to go out because I tend to deteriorate socially if I'm home too long. It's also really good physical therapy for me to go out and get used to transferring in and out of cars. We go grocery and clothing shopping, to the movies, and out to dinner. Yesterday we took a drive to Malibu Beach via Topanga Canyon because she'd never, in her 40 years here, gone that route.

We had dinner about a week ago at a Japanese restaurant/Teppan house which had a very Hawaiian theme to it, in fact the Hawaiian Top 40 was blaring overhead. Neither one of us said much at the table. My mother never feels awkward though, she just absorbs the environment and thinks about things that are on the never ending "to do" list. I watched her as she cast an unfocused stare towards the window of the restaurant and she started bobbing her head. "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by Iz came on and I just watched her and I started to tear up. Knowing that she gives her time to me daily without any complaints made me understand how truly blessed I was. Most people would've wanted to give up by this point, but day after day she is there for me. I couldn't speak without wanting to burst into tears. I think about how much I'll miss her when she's gone and how I want to make the most out of our time together. Not just as nurse and patient, but as mother and daughter, as friends. We mutually didn't see each other for about 15 years before coming home aside from the Holidays and birthdays. It's time that we'll never get back. Sigh.

At that point, Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" came on. She continued to bob her head rhythmically to the song. She's cute like that. Like when we watch SYTYCD (which just started this week, Yay!) she'll tap her feet and move her body empathetically as if she's dancing the routine herself. Right then I heard God say "Don't worry, Be happy. Enjoy your time now." So I cheered up and we continued to enjoy our dinner for the night.

My mother demonstrates love to me everyday and I in turn learn how to love more and more through her example. Love is an action, not just a feeling.


I Cor 13:4-7 ⁴Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

The Past ... Rolls Around

I'm at an age where your past catches up with you in the most unexpected ways. In the last month, I've had 2 run ins with old friends.

First, I had scheduled an appointment with my urologist. (because the older you get, the more specialists you eventually see....lol). My Dr. had gone on vacation so I was seeing the attending physician covering for his patients. I called to see who it was and they said, "Dr. Desai". I knew a kid with the last name Desai in 6th grade, but thought isn't Desai like the equivalent of Doe or Smith? But you guessed it, the day of my appointment I was sitting in the exam room and in walks my friend from grade school. He also knew it was me and we both cracked up about that. The thought of your friend from 6th grade being your urologist of all things cracks me up. Knowing that people remember you from a long time ago is kind of cool though.

The second encounter was with an ex. For the first time though I thought of him as a friend and not my "ex'. He's in the armed forces and has just come back from many years of living abroad. His family had gone home to Japan while he was searching for houses, schools for the boys, and parks for the dog, a beautiful Australian Shepherd. It was the first time I'd seen him in about 6 years but I've known him for about 17 years. The visit was short but sweet and it was nice to talk to my friend though I felt odd seeing him because I was in the wheelchair, but I feel like that in general.

I don't like to see my reflection in windows or see pictures of myself in the wheelchair. That's one thing that I don't deal with well. I didn't like pictures of myself before the accident, but now it's a little worse.

I'm interested in seeing what will happen in the next few decades....

For Medium Skin Tones....

I'm sitting here typing, blogging, checking email, and I notice that my hands look weird. They smelt weird last night too. I have a u.t.i. right now and am taking meds and so I wondered if it was due to the meds. After worrying a bit, I realize it's the lotion I used last night. I have several tubes/bottles/jars/pots of lotion and am trying to finish off the small ones to make space. I just can't bring myself to throwing them out. It's the Flip in me. I'm not cheap, I'm frugal. lol.

So I have a travel size tube of Vaseline Intensive Care lotion. Without realizing it was the "Healthy Body Glow" line, I put it on. It has "a touch" of self tanner. The underside of my hands never looked so good. I don't know about the healthy glow though.

Have you ever tanned a nice shade of.....orange?

Where do you feel "at home"?

Service started with a song that was perfect.

So I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned
In awe of the One who gave it all
I'll stand my soul
Lord to You surrendered
All I am is Yours

I have that feeling, the feeling of "I will stand up", and "I will kneel down". Even if it's in my mind. That's the first step, the mental aspect. It builds on the foundation of my belief and suffices the patience that is still growing. All that has happened is the wind that blows me around in order to strengthen my roots.

Home?? Home?... Home... It's the first time in a long time that I felt at home. In church, singing with a huge smile on my face, praises of worship to God. Even my body felt alive, different, not mine. I know something happened and I was glad that I made the first step to come" home".

I'll explain.

After being in my childhood home for over a year without really being at church has given me time to try out the ride without the training wheels. I was ready to have my life and faith sharpened and knew it was really time to go back. A new environment with people I didn't know used to scare me, now I actually prefer it. Fresh starts are nice sometimes, not like bankruptcy fresh starts lol. That's what they use to call a Chapter 7 Bankruptcy back in the day, the "fresh start" bankruptcy. I should know.

Timing is everything, and God's timing is amazing....over and over again.

My next door neighbor, whom I babysat millions of years, ok like 15 years, ago, invited me to a church that I'd been wanting to go to for the last year. I was homesick for church and this one was similar to what Hermon Church felt like. My family which knows how important church is to me kind of broke my heart. Being in a home where everyone goes to (Catholic) church saddens me because I've never been invited or even offered to be brought to church with them. I'm unsure if they thought I was opposed to it or not, but any church at this point would lift me up. I was starving.

Instead of waiting to be fed, I started looking for eating utensils. After conversing with my neighbor about the evening service one week prior, I realized it was a service geared towards young adults, just like Fusion over at Christian Assembly. God knew I was hungry and set it up. The right place (not too far from home), the right person (someone I admire and trust), the right situation (the place I had been wanting to go to without worrying about who was with me). She asked and I said yes without purposeful hesitation.

Last Sunday I had spent all day with mom. The Encino Farmers Market was delicious. I pleasantly found the old pupusa maker from the Eagle Rock Farmer's Market and needless to say, I ordered 2 for us to eat. We headed to the mall in order to lollygag while waiting for a movie to start. (The theatre was located at the mall). The movie happened to be in a theatre which only had wheelchair seating at the front and that wasn't going to happen. Vertigo and a migraine are costs too high to pay for a movie. Lastly, we stopped at the market. I was poooooped by the time I got home, not to mention sweaty and disgusting thanks to the San Fernando Valley heat which just seems to come from all directions, even the asphalt. Ugh.

I had every (acceptable) reason in my pocket to get out of going to church. (side thought: Why do we always try to get out of church? What thoughts make church that bad that we're trying to escape it? Are we afraid, annoyed at the thought of having to answer or explain to someone why we haven't been at church, why we've been sinning all week or why we're late, or whatever? God knows already right? He loves us regardless, right? We're not perfect, and is it so bad that somebody wants better for us? Just a thought.) I had that feeling of buyer's remorse, in the sense that I said "yes" too quickly, and now was rethinking my decision. I didn't factor in fatigue when I said yes to my neighbor. I had every good reason but the correct one. Was I hungry or not? I was. I freshened up and called my neighbor. Their new phone carrier was a bit annoying, echoes and all.....I had one more chance to get out of our date....but I wanted my date with God. Matthew 11:28 Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.

That night the pastor commented on those who follow the Lord. Jesus doesn't want fans, he wants followers and there was a visualization given of someone following so close as to have the dust of Jesus' sandals covering them. Am I so far that I don't even see the Lord in the distance. Reading my Bible is not a priority, I'm not going to lie, but I know it's key. More excuses come to mind. Nevertheless, I know it's something I need to do.

Home.

(go Meat! I don't know why that popped into my head.)

Goodnight Kitty

After several hundreds of dollars paid to a vet, that I didn't trust, to have P.K. analyzed, I decided that as painful as it feels to be compassionate, that I would choose to let P.K. go. During last month's trip to the vet, he was diagnosed with FIV (HIV for kitties.) He had severe signs of anemia and dehydration, and yet had a bloated stomach. The vet had hydrated him with I.V. fluid and had removed 500 ml of fluid from his stomach and chest. All the fluid came back and he was bloated as bad as when we first took him in. He's had labored breathing for several days but has never winced or meowed in pain.

This morning, we were running late so mom took P.K. to the vet herself. I kind of knew it would be the last time that I would say "bye Kitty". As expected the new vet confirmed that his health was compromised due to the virus and that he was having a hard time fighting stuff off. Even his strength was wasting away, I mean just the other day he tried to jump onto a foot ottoman, about 18 inches high, and he fell off and landed into his food. I decided that it was no way to live. So today at 10:30 a.m., they put him to sleep.

I think it was hard for my mom. Because she didn't want to leave him alone to die, she stayed in the room as they euthanized him. Like a true champ, he didn't fight or cry. Soon after they administered the drug, his heart stopped. Mom stayed with him by herself for about 30 minutes wishing him off to a better place. She tried to close his eyes but they wouldn't close so she wrapped him in his little yellow towel and said goodbye. As odd as it sounds, she took pictures of him for me. His eyes were at peace and I was happy that he wasn't suffering anymore.

Thanks for being with me for 12 years Kitty. You saved me from many fits of insanity while being on my own for the first time. Oh yeah, and thanks for all of the fun fights we had on the blue couch. God rest your soul. Your mom loves you.

A Witness

Feelings have a way of residing, and sometimes semi-retiring, in the back of one's mind. I dreamed about someone a few nights ago which caused me to wake up feeling sentimental. I've known this person for many years and have always had feelings for him. Time has changed both of us and, time and time again, we've reconnected intensely as friends only to lose touch once more. The feeling is similar to jumping on a trampoline, the stronger you launch, the further you get from the point of origin. There is a an unknown fear, like something you can't really put your finger on which prevents us from coming together.

Aesthetically, I'm not what he desires, but I know I can hold my own during conversation which is equally important. There's an excitement that swells up within me when chemistry is sparked via dialog, this feeling of understanding and knowing that at that moment, for those few hours, that you're with"that" someone, that all feels right, comfortable, and connected. Hours together that feel like minutes, never wanting the night to end. But it's a reciprocal feeling, not like when you're unsure of how that person feels about you because you've both been trying to hold your own. Just a natural flow of being with someone. You're neither man nor woman, you are not a certain age, you're just one soul enjoying time with another soul. I imagine this is what it feels like when you find the other half of your orange. I've felt this with few people in my life and am sometimes wishful that they would come back around or that I would be fortunate to feel this way once more. I'm open now.

I digress.....I want him to know that someone always thinks about him, wants the best for him, even as friends. There's a segment of the American version of "Shall We Dance" in which Susan Sarandon explains marriage to someone. "...It's being a witness to someone's life.." She explains that out of the billions of people on Earth that marriage is a way of letting someone know that their life doesn't go unnoticed. It's a promise to care about everything: the good things, the bad things, the mundane things. All of it, all the time, everyday, that their life will not go unnoticed because someone will be there to notice and witness it.

I heard another comment while watching Top Chef Masters. During the final challenge, chefs were given a budget, time constraints, and a surprise element. Each chef unknowingly chose a fellow chef's name and had to create a mystery basket of 7 ingredients for the chef that was chosen. The regular Top Chef show has young up-and-coming chefs who are predominantly caddy, obnoxious, self-absorbed, like they've so much to prove to the world and themselves. It wasn't rare to see them wishing for their competitors to fail, yet these master chefs had nothing to prove, they excel at and live doing what they love, cooking, and were additionally competing in order to give proceeds to the charity of their choice. They were rightfully confident, but not cocky. Upon opening the mystery boxes, each chef was given something they could use within their own style of cooking via a mutual respect mixed with wisdom and social grace amongst their peers. One chef said, "You have to give people opportunity. You should set people up to succeed, and not to fail." I was blown away by this. If only we were this way amongst our peers and competitors. That starts with the individual.

So even if I never date this person, I know that when I do find the right person that their life will not go unnoticed and I'll do my best to set them up to succeed.