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....