All or None

"Parents Call Cops on Teens" I found this story amusing in some ways. But I also found it stupid. What a stupid bunch of parents. 

See, I don't like the idea of banning books. It isn't because I don't think there are some books that are trash and should be burned. Should never be published, in fact. I do think there is material out there that should be tossed on bonfires. But I'm opposed to anyone telling another person what to read, watch, listen to, or think. The only exception I make to the material that denigrates human beings, women and children in particular, into objects of abuse. These come from sick, twisted minds and have no place in any civilized society.

There are materials on the market - books, movies, magazines, songs, programs that I find very offensive and believe should not be out there. But I have no right to try and stop someone who wants that from seeking it out. I don't like it but I have no say in their choices. 

There are people who are actively trying to ban all Christian literature, television programing, movies, and radio programs. I'm a Christian and I'm threatened by that. No one has a right to prevent me from seeking out those things and reading, watching, and listening to them.

If you seek a righteous society it must be obtained by choice, not by force. In an equal society, that is balanced and just, you must allow people to choose between good and evil. Joshua said, "Choose you this day whom you will serve. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." He didn't make the choice for them. He gave them the choice. Their choice could result in separation from the nation. He knew that. His choice was clear. Theirs was up to them. He turned his back and walked into the Promised land. I doubt he looked back to see who followed.

You need to be teaching your children from the time they are toddlers what is that good reading material and what is garbage. I remember when my youngest son, David came and told me some adolescent books he'd requested were inappropriate for him to read. He was 13. I didn't tell him. He told me. And he tossed them, the whole set that he'd requested as gifts or had bought with his own money. His daughter has been watching t.v. shows and on occasion will say, "Mawmaw, I don't think this is appropriate for me to watch." She's seven. We turn it off or change the program.I don't watch much t.v., particularly children's programing since my sons grew up. I take her word for it because she's been taught. 

We live in a nation predicated upon free speech. And you can't have it both ways. Either it is free to all or it is free to none, no matter how much I dislike the other side, no matter how much they dislike mine. 

False Impressions

I was talking with my Aunt Phillis this weekend about something while we were in the car. She and my uncle were visiting from Atlanta for the weekend. Something was said about King David. I don't remember what but she told me about how everyone seemed to paint David as such a good man when in fact, he was a terrible man. He stole another man's wife. I laughed at her but the realization struck me that it was true. Not only was he an adulterer but a murderer. He arranged the death of the woman's husband. That's pretty awful when you think about. But the Bible calls him a man after God's own heart. 

I pointed out to her that not only did it seem that David was painted better than he actually was, Bathsheba, the woman he lusted after, was made to sound like a victim. Go back and read the story. There isn't much said about her but when I read it I feel like she was taken advantage of. The truth is she was a participant. 

I hear some of you now saying, "She had no choice! He was the King!" 

Hogwash. She could have said no. She could actually have gone to the elders and complained or to the priest. She could have raised a huge stink. There were things she could have done to draw a lot of attention. There were people who would have been thrilled to publish the news. But when summoned, she went, took off her clothes, and had sex with the King. She went home, continued to bathe on her exposed rooftop, and when she became pregnant, she moseyed over and told David. Do not tell me she didn't know she could be seen by anyone in the palace. She lived close enough to the palace that she knew exactly which windows the king spent time looking out. When her husband came home, to be set up as the illegitimate child's father, she kept her mouth shut. She never cried rape, a heinous crime punishable by death. So was murder.

I don't believe she was afraid of the king. I think she saw an opportunity and she took it. I believe this because when it came time for David to step down, due to his health, she pranced into the King's quarters, where his current concubine lay in the bed with him, and told him that one of his son's was trying to usurp the crown and David had promised her that "her son" would be the next King of Israel. David promptly crowned Solomon. No arguments from him.

Tell me she didn't have that in mind all along. Hogwash. She was an adulteress and a liar and a co-conspirator in the death of her first husband. She was not nice. She was not a victim. But do you ever get that opinion of her from anyone teaching on this story? No.

So, why is it that David is a man after God's own heart? My aunt and I agreed that the reason was because he recognized when he had sinned. He sincerely repented and actively attempted to right his wrongs. He accepted his punishment without flinching. And he was punished several times. When it was all said and done, he kept God sovereign and accepted whatever came at the hands of God, even if it harmed him. And because of those traits, God favored him. Not because of the wicked things he did, but because of the sincerity of David's repentance.

I don't really know why David and Bathsheba are painted they way they seem to be in all the Sunday School lessons and sermons I've ever heard. That impression of them is completely false. I am interested in why, just now, I see them in a whole new light. They weren't a good man making a single mistake or a woman victimized by a king. Their actions were inexcusable. They were overtaken in not one fault but several. As a result a man died and a child died and events that followed were irrevocably altered. Had they not done what they did, Solomon would never have been born and Israel would have taken a completely different path. Not one life changed, but a whole nation. 

The Age of Grace

I was reading a post by my writing buddy, A Writer Called Wanda about the aging process. She told a story about aging gracefully and it reminded me of my great aunts and my grandmother. 

I grew up surrounded by these wonderful women who I just thought were all beautiful, genteel, dignified Southern ladies. They knew how to dress and they spoke so sweetly and seemed so content and did things. They were great fun to be around and they all laughed a lot, lovely lady-like laughs but genuine laughter all the same. I just loved to see them and I wanted to be like them when I got old. 

I'm there and I've come to realize that maybe I did them a disservice. They made it look so easy and I thought it would be. I've started to think I did something wrong. It isn't easy. I'm grumpy and intolerant and annoyed by people. 

I know their life stories but didn't think about the issues they might have dealt with when I was young as being issues. I do now. In hindsight, which is always crystal clear, they had to deal with the same kind of problems I deal with - illnesses, children, jobs, spouses, war, death - and yet they seemed to be so ... together. So, I'm now asking, how did they do it?  And how do I come out at the end with the same dignity they had despite the problems they had to deal with? I am nothing like those wonderful ladies and it upsets me because they were the ideal. My ideal. 

I think the difference is in our expectations. Their whole outlook on life and what it was all about was totally different from this generation. They lived through the depression and scarcity. Through struggles I've never and will never experience when they were young. The world was different and people's brains were wired differently. They lived a different lifestyle. There was no handouts. It was do or die. So they did. They became strong and courageous women capable of building airplanes or spending hours in sewing plants making shirts or hoeing in fields to grow their own food. As they grew older they knew that aging is inevitable, but aging with grace and style is a choice. 

 I'm a wimp. I had superheros for aunts. 

A Light in the Dark

https://www.flickr.com/people/pratanti/

I heard something today in a movie I was watching. The character said, "God won't put more on you that you can bear." It reminded me of the time after Jerry died. People were trying to give me comfort and for some reason they think a hug and that Biblical reference helps. 

First off, it doesn't help. Secondly, it isn't a Biblical reference. There is no place in the Bible that says God won't put more on you than you can bear. Really. It isn't there. Not anywhere at all does it say you'll be delivered from any burden you can't bear. And nowhere does it say your burdens won't kill you. 

No, it doesn't.

Really.

So why do people say "The Bible says God won't put more on you than you can bear"? I've thought about this a lot, as you can see. When I kept hearing it from all these people trying to help me, it suddenly dawned on me that I had no point of reference for that "verse". And if you asked anyone, they'd simply tell you it was "in the Bible". So I looked. And was confounded. It wasn't there. Why would people say it was there when it clearly was not? I came up with a couple of things.

1. Because they don't pay attention. 
2. They make their own interpretation. 
3. They repeat what they hear everyone else say without verifying the truth of it.

Honestly, #3 is probably the only reason but I'm being charitable. Here is what the apostle Paul actually says in 1 Corinthians 10:13 - "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able: but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that you may be able to bear it."

Now, you can argue the point all day long but that doesn't say God won't put more on you than you can bear. What it says is that when faced with temptation, you are given the ability, no matter how bad the temptation, to escape it. You can walk away from any temptation. It doesn't say it will be easy but it says he will make a way for you to escape the temptation, that you may be able to bear it. And out of that last clause comes a whole new scripture that means something entirely different.

I can buy the idea that you can't be tempted more than you can bear. That makes perfect sense to me. Every negative action you take, you make a conscious choice to either continue or turn away. It may be a hard decision to turn away, but you can do it. We are gifted with very strong wills. We might struggle with the decision to move away from temptation but we can do it.

But temptation has nothing to do with the burdens we bear in life, except the wrong decision creates some of the burdens we bear. And for every burden you create, you will bear it. Some of those burdens just might be more than you can carry. They might even kill you. 

Other verses clarify this burden bearing thing even further. Galatians 6:4-5 says: "But let every man prove his own work, and then shall he have rejoicing in himself alone and not in another. For every man shall bear his own burden."

See that? Doesn't say anyone will bear them for you nor does it say they won't be more than you can bear. And if you read further, you get a very interesting connection. "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." You create your own burdens and you get to carry them. That's the implication of "reap". You sow tiny seeds. You reap bountiful harvests. Hosea 8:7 says, "For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind." You are going harvest a big burden.

Galatians 6;2 says, "Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." So, not only do you have to carry your own junk, but you have to carry other people's! Again, it doesn't say that the burdens won't be more than you can handle. Not anywhere.

So, don't assume God is going to remove burdens. I can tell you from personal experience that he does not. Jesus would tell you the same thing. "Father, if thou be willing remove this cup from me: nevertheless, not my will but thine be done." Luke 22:42 They crucified him. You think you have problems?

Sometimes people refer to another quote by Jesus. "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matt. 11:28-30. 

Please note that he did not say he'd take your burden from you. A yoke is something used to assist in carrying heavy loads. It doesn't change the load. It just shifts the weight. He said he'd give you "rest for you soul". You're still carrying the same burdens, and it may be easier at times, but you can sit down and rest under the shelter of his arms.

Now, if you asked me how to do that, I can't tell you. Really. I have no idea. I'm being truthful here. See, I know God is real. I know He loves me. I know He has provided for me. But the burdens I carry have nearly crushed me and sometimes I get very confused by that. I ask God, often, "Are you trying to kill me? Do you want me dead? Cause I'm dying and if you do, there's easier ways." Really, I've had this conversation with God. Really.

But the burdens are still there. I see no point and no purpose to Jerry dying. I exercised and stayed fit for years and I'm nearly crippled some days and in agony of pain I can't stop. I carry other burdens that I see no good in. I get angry because I've carried them so far and so long and I'm so tired.

Sometimes there are good days. The road is sunny and level. I rest but then I reach a mountain and the weight become so heavy. Sometimes life is all uphill.  

Don't ask me how to fix the burdens. I don't know. I can say for certain that there are people placed in my path that lift my spirits, pray for me, send me emails, call me, taken me to lunch, given me a card, a gift, a hug, or a smile. The load is still heavy but I was able to rest in the light they shed. 

So, the next time you want to comfort someone suffering beneath a heavy load, don't utter that stupid lie. The burdens they carry may very well be too heavy for them. They may be dying beneath the load. We are to attempt to save the lives of those crushed beneath loads too heavy for them. You may be the person who carries the light in the darkness they travel. Sometimes light is all you need for the journey.

It's a Ledge But It Isn't Life

As I leaned against the bathroom wall this morning I don't think I've ever been so close to wishing I was dead. I don't ever put that into words anymore. I think we've all done it at some point in our lives, when we were young and didn't really see the value of life. We were stupid and just said what popped into our heads. But I stopped saying things like that a long time ago. Words have power. 

Today, I'm close. The pain is in every joint. Nothing is helping. I spent the next several hours lying in a chair trying to sleep. 

I don't know how I'm going to get through the next five days like this. I don't know how I'm going to get through the next five hours. I've tried to figure out what I did to deserve this kind of torture, because it is torture. It feels like your joints are being cooked from the inside, slowly. The cramps in my legs from the knee pain make lying down uncomfortable. And my neck, while it may look ok, is not. I can't sit in certain positions, like reading or crochet angles, so I'm constantly shifting for something that minimizes the pain and doesn't make my neck and shoulder go numb. I'm not reading or crocheting these days for more than minutes. That spreading numbness is very scary.


I've looked for all kinds of answers and I'm pretty tired of the effort. I really don't want to do it anymore. I've finally realized that there are no solutions. None.

What is even more frustrating is that I can't seem to get anyone to understand that there is nothing anyone can do to fix it. It is like talking to three year olds. They either think, because I'm up walking around that I don't have a problem or because I managed to get to work, I must be o.k. People seem to refuse to believe there isn't some magic potion to make you better. There isn't.

And I have to say when you are in pain, people tend to say the stupidest things, as if you haven't frantically searched for something that will help you. Yes, I know they mean well. Yes, I understand they are upset by my state. Yes, I do appreciate it. But to spare me any further pain of dwelling on the hopelessness of it please educate yourself on my disease. Google the hundreds of pages I've Googled. 

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" No.I can't afford it and they can't do anything anyway.

"Did you take something?" No because there is nothing else I can take. I am allergic to an ingredient they put in the medicines to treat the disease. That allergy will kill me if I take it.

"Can you call your doctor?" No. My doctor knows my condition and nothing has changed.

"What about .....?"  NO!

"Or .....?" NO!

"Maybe if you ...." NO, NO, NO!

Stop it already. 

Believe me when I tell you that in the middle of the worst pain, I've sat sobbing over Google looking for something that will fix it. I've read medical reports and articles, I've talked to other people with the disease. I've researched alternative medical sites. I've read junk science. It can't be fixed. There is nothing I can take. There is nothing I can do. There is nothing you can do. There is no place to go, no one to see, and no one to talk to about it. You can't help me. I can't help me. The doctor can't help me. 

So, I leaned against the wall, waiting for the water to get hot and said, "This isn't living. This is living death. And I don't want to do it."

I was surprised I meant it. 

Out of the Ashes

Nearly every mother faces an identity crisis when our children grow up. And believe me, it is every bit as profound as that faced by our children when they cross the threshold to maturity. I'm not sure it isn't worse.

My friend, Chris D. made a poignant post in her blog, A Parent Spectrum Disorder, today. She still has adolescents at home but the day is fast approaching when she will have an empty nest. As I wrote my comment to her, I realized it was not just meant for Chris. There was something in it that tickled my ear and I was forced to think about it.

"It is the tragedy of motherhood that we sacrifice ourselves on that altar. We make ourselves literal burnt offerings. They grow up, leave, and we lie in the ashes, forgotten. We have to resurrect ourselves. And when your spouse dies, it is even worse because there is no one to help lend a hand if you need it. Grab your husband and make your life what it was before children. You can. You must. It ends too soon to waste time."

Resurrection. I'm not God. I have no real idea of how to do that. My children left home years ago. They've come back a couple of times since but that was different. I was dealing with adults who didn't want anything but a place to sleep, eat, and no rules. Once on their feet, they were gone again. At first it was hard to deal with adult children but after a few months things balanced out, rules were established in spite of them, and we were fine. It helps if your kids like you a little but that's another post. It is nice to know mine actually like me a lot.

I think even when they come back you fall back into the Mom role. You aren't yourself. You're the person you became when you heard that first cry. You're the healer, comforter, protector, accountant, landlord, chief cook and bottle washer. When they're born your world became this tiny place initially filled with dirty diapers and regular feedings. It expanded to regular bedtime battles and legos in the dark. From there it expanded to managing multiple schedules and shuttle duty, with binding up the bloodless wounds of teenagers. Then, rather sooner than you were prepared for, it was over. The house was empty, the laundry manageable, and you have no idea what to eat or how to cook for two. And when you looked, you didn't recognize yourself in the mirror.

My husband died and we had never really figured it out. How could we go back 30 years and be the fun loving duo who looked for exciting things to keep us interested in one another. We were looking but ill health and death interrupted us and before we truly got a chance to find that place again, he was gone, forever altering my perception and my world. 

Resurrection is no different for me than for any other mother. If anything, it is harder. Not only do we mold our personality around children, before them, if you were fortunate enough to have a spouse, we molded it around a spouse. The "two become one" is no joke. In a good relationship, you do become a single unit. Children further cement this and your identity shifts farther away from who you were single. 

So here we are, sans children. And we look in that mirror and we see lines that weren't there, shoulders that used to be straighter, necks that were once slender, too many chins, bags under eyes that once sparkled in laughter and now... well, sometimes they glitter in anger. We look...and a total stranger stares back.

I thought, once past the worst of the grief, I'd find ways to put the past behind me. I just knew... was positive... if I survived it, I'd be me again. I didn't realize that it would be impossible. Today, when I read my own comment to Chris the truth dawned on me. That girl, the one who laughed so easily, found excitement in everything she did, and was so creative... she was long gone. I am suddenly faced with the realization that I have to recreate myself. I have to become someone else. 

Who am I? What am I supposed to do now? For five years I've tried to figure this out. At first I thought I knew but with half of me missing, nothing fit. I no longer had an identity. The stranger in my mirror is truly someone I do not know. 

I forced myself to find ways to become involved in things I loved. I started crocheting again. I started sewing but neck problems put a crimp in that. I became a local Municipal Liaison for National Novel Writing Month and I started a local writing group and I connected with dozens of people online who loved writing. I began to write more. There was a sense that I was moving toward something. I had no idea what.

The last three years I've been too sick to care much who I am. Each day has been pretty much a struggle to get up, put in 8 hours and come home. The sense of forward motion stopped dead. There is still this woman who stares back at me from the mirror. Her eyes still glitter. I realize she's fairly angry that life is throwing painful things at her. She still lies in ashes.

So, although I can't prevent the slings and arrows of life, I must keep trying to find who I am. Stopping now is unacceptable because ... well, in truth, that is who I am. And maybe, one day, I'll wake up and look in that mirror find that, like the Phoenix, I have emerge from the ashes a completely new person.

Gloom, Despair, & Agony

Well, it isn't that bad. Really. It is Wednesday and the weather is lousy. I woke to gray cloud cover, everything was wet and cold. I hurt. Not many places but those places hurt a lot. As I sat on the edge of the bed I considered my alternatives. Pain or medicines that could give me cancers or worse. When it hurts that bad it is a hard choice.

Still, I managed to drag myself from the warm bed and get Sarah up for school. I would have stayed there for another 20 minutes but I forgot Sarah. She was not happy either. She wouldn't go to bed last night and she chattered for a good 20 minutes after lights were out.

We had our breakfast and by then, some of my pain was manageable. I took two generic 8 hour tylenol. The alternatives faded from my mind as the morning progressed and pain subsided to tolerable levels. But I am so tired and no medicine will fix that.

I'm concerned about the endless exhaustion. Epstein Barr, which I had for about 6 months last year, is suspect in Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I've had fatigue before but not on the scale I seem to have it now. I can't get enough rest. I fall asleep easily but do not sleep long and when I get up I'm exhausted. My next move will be a sleep study. I need to know what is happening.

I had the MRI yesterday and already folks are asking... namely my children. I understand and appreciate their concern. Nice to feel cared for now and then. Still, no result until they send me a nice letter telling me or the doctor calls me. I have to say the numbness, while still happening, seems to be lessing each day. There's very little pain there now, thankfully. I still get twinges at certain motions and angles. I really believe the worst of it was caused by things in my neck swelling and compressing a nerve. I could be wrong.

My RA doctor will not believe me. I see her tomorrow. Her nurse informed me that the doctor thought I had an upper respiratory infection that caused the swollen glands, neck pain, and pond scum from my nose, despite not a single symptom - no sneezing, coughing, or breathing problems associated with such infections. She never checked my nose. Never commented on my neck pain. How would she even know? She suggested my Primary look into that.

However, since all symptoms, except the neck pain and numbness disappeared within three days of stopping the methotrexate, why would I bother? I saw my primary days after I stopped it and she found no sign of an infection but ordered the MRI to see if there was a herniated disk causing the neck problem.

So, there we have it. Wednesday weather is sucky. My life is exhausting. I very upset because as a result of all this, my writing has come to a screeching halt. I have ideas floating in my head but I can't seem to focus long enough to get them down. I hate it, hate it, hate it.

How is your week progressing? Anything exciting? I could use some excitement... well the good kind, not the usual.

What Are You Doing Here?

I got up this morning with reluctance. I so wanted to sleep in for a bit. I was just so tired. But I dragged myself to work. 

When I arrived they stared at me and asked why I was there. I stared back. Today is my monthly furlough day. I wasn't supposed to be there. After my initial confusion and annoyance, I came home. The damage was done. 

I've been sitting in the chair all morning, first reading my devotional, praying, and then just reading stuff online, news, blogs, ads, email. I don't think the devotion time was a waste nor the prayer but the rest of it was a wash. I could have been doing the bank reconciliation or taxes. So, I am frustrated with myself because I would have felt better had I been able to get that extra hour of rest and I might have been able to actually accomplish something. 

I think I'll take charge and go do the bank stuff now. I hate doing it. I'm never happy with the results. Taxes won't be much better.

I think I will also attempt to get some writing done. Maybe that will give me some sense of accomplishment.

Pain & Things....

2014 by Cynthia Maddox 

There is no telling what tomorrow will bring, especially where I'm concerned. I have felt great today. Only a sore left pinky and a sore right knee. Pretty much everything else feels fine. No depression, no anxiety, no runny nose, no swollen neck, no cloudy brain, no unusual tiredness. Totally bizarre. Ah well, tomorrow is another day. I hope.

On a lighter note, my RA doctor's nurse called me today to see how I was doing off the methotrexate. I gave her the same spiel as the one above. She said my doctor wants to suggest another medicine. Yes, you heard me. I'm have no inflammation and I need another med. Avara. Not much better than methotrexate in that regard. Most of the same symptoms. You can have a fatal liver failure in as little as 6 months! Wow.

I've been force to evaluate what quality of life I want. Crippled hands and feet and pain or death. Gee, I dunno, what do you think?

Anyway, I see her Thursday. I'll say no for now. I ordered this stuff that was recommended by my son's pastor in Arkansas. I got last week and started using it on Friday. Isotonix OPC-3. A powder you mix with a small amount of water and drink once a day. Supposed to help with inflammation. Well, I don't know. I stopped taking the methotrexate a week ago this past Saturday. I had moderate pain in my joints and I was taking two Tylenol 8hr pain reliever three times a day. The pain receded but only taking the Tylenol. Since Saturday, I have not taken the Tylenol but about three times all total. So, is the stuff working? I don't know. I could just be at the end of the flare. It could be the weather improved. It could be prayer. It could be anything. This is the frustration of RA. You don't know until it happens.

Tomorrow I go for the MRI on my neck. I have to say, today the neck is better. Dave told me he had been having his church pray for me. So, maybe that is what happened there. It is better, much better. I still go numb when in certain positions but I don't think it is happening as quickly or as extensively. I'm thankful, whatever the vehicle. All thing work together....

Now, I'm headed for bed. Yes, early. I woke up this morning before the clock and allowed myself to lie there and wake slowly. The clock snooze is usually so annoying but it wasn't this time because I was actually awake. I wasn't very sore when I got up and I think the slower pace helped.

The one thing that really helps is sleep. If I get lots of good sleep, I feel much better. Problem is, the sleep I usually get is not very good. Too short, disturbed, and pain-filled. So the solution is part of the problem.

Still, I'm hoping for another good day. Pray for this MRI. They're looking for a herniated disk. I'm not. I don't think it is there.

The Winding Stick

This is how I do it. There may be other or better ways. This works for me.

On A Sunny Day - First Walk of 2014

I was so excited when I left work today. It has been a beautiful day and the sun shone all day. Temps were mild. By the time I got off at 4 p.m. it was 68 degrees. I came straight home, got my walking shoes on and headed for the cemetery. I managed to walk 1.28 mile in less than 30 minutes. I couldn't believe that. It's been about 6 months since I was able to get out there to walk. I think maybe September or October was the last one.

I'm now in the process of withdrawal from methotrexate. Pain levels are rising. I wasn't about to let a nice day go to waste. So I walked and enjoyed it so much. But my hands, shoulders, back and neck are hurting mildly. I'm probably going to bed early because of it. I need the sleep.

Anyway, to save time, here's my video of the first walk. Look at the sky! I promise I'm not going to video every walk this year. How boring they must have been for everyone. I didn't even finish posting the last few months. Even I got tired I think. A lot goes into production of them and I just didn't have time.

One thing I meant to put in my video but forgot was this photo. This is the headstone of a woman and she is buried between what I presume is her two husbands she outlived. I so hope her life was better than her name would indicate. I laughed about this when I found them last year and shared it in a video I don't think I ever posted.

Death in a Bottle

I elected to not take the Methotrexate this weekend. It was a difficult decision and one for which I have no doubt I will suffer painful consequences. But I was already suffering consequences from the decision to take it. Within one month of starting it the pain in my joints was 100% better. The trade off was that the glands in my neck started to swell and I developed some kind of severe pain in the side of my neck below my ear that rapidly worsened to the point that turning my head in certain positions was agony. I developed numbness along the bottom of my jaw on that side and if I kept my head in that position long enough, the numbness crept up the side of my head and down to my shoulder. I had no explanation for it.

It was obvious to me that something wasn't right. When I returned to the doctor about two months later, I told her the problem and she completely ignored it. Made no reference to the neck pain at all. I mentioned I went to my Primary care physician and she thought it sounded like torticollis. She didn't seem interested and did not check the neck and gave the lymph glands a passing probe. "Yes, they're slightly swollen."

I became more and more depressed, to the point I was spending a lot of evening alone in my house crying. I also mentioned this to her but she didn't feel it was an issue, despite the flyer for the medicine saying this was a side effect of methotrexate, as are the swollen glands.

The swelling worsened. Those under my arms were a bit tender. I was using heat and cold packs on my neck day and night when I was at home. They helped a bit. The neck pain and stiffness got slightly better. It has not gone away. But as of the morning, after not taking the once a week dose yesterday, my glands have dramatically shrunk. I've felt exhausted for a while now, as I think I've mentioned on here. I'd  have to look back but I think ever since I've been on the Methotrexate I've been more tired. Yes, I did hurt less in my joints but my quality of life has not improved.

I've felt for years that my situation was the result of a virus. I watched a video that scared the heebee jeebees out of me a few night ago and kept me up most of the night with what I heard. It was horrible. I will not post the link here. If you want to watch it on YouTube look for Dr. R. E. Tent and a video about autoimmune disorders. I warn you it is insanely scary and sounds like a science fiction movie of epic portions. That was just the first hour.

The second hour, which I skimmed because I was in shock by then, he talked about his patients. He indicated Epstein Barr is connected to rheumatoid arthritis, headaches, and chronic fatigue. Last year, the first five months of the year, I was sick with what my Primary care doctor said was a "recurrence of the Epstein Barr virus". I couldn't believe that then because the symptoms I was having were not familiar to me when I was sick last year. That's mono and I had never in my life had that virus. Apparently, I did. You can have mild cases or just be a carrier.

In light of what I know now, it makes so many thing much clearer. And instead of throwing poison at it there has to be something else. No, I have no idea what. I just know that I believed for years that my condition was the result of a virus. I have no idea why I believed that, I just have always done so. It acts like a virus to me. And no, I'm not a doctor but I read and I pay attention to my body. I listen to it.

So, despite the devastating effects that are probably in store for me with the RA and the pain I am very familiar with,  I see no reason to take a medicine that has, in four months, made me as sick, if nor more so, as I am with RA. In the video, he called Methotrexate "Death in a Bottle".

If you pray, if you know someone who is able to pray for healing please bring my name to their attention. If you take Methotrexate or have in the past, I would like to hear your experiences on it. And if you know of reputable alternative treatments to any of these, I want to know.

Thinking On Thursday

I think I couldn't have asked for a lovelier day that today. The sun shone all day and there was no biting wind to cut through your clothes. When I came home for lunch it was warm enough to leave my coat open. I still needed it but I didn't have to be wrapped in a bear rug. And the final bonus is that the snow was melting... again.

Work was meh. Not very hectic and I actually had only about four phone calls. That's almost astounding. Rarely do I have a day with less than ten. It ranges from 125 to 170 a month. I have has 225 one month. Thank God that is rare as well. So, I came home tired but not in a metal stupor.

I'm not writing and I hate it. I am, of course, doing this blog but this is the easy part. Very few people read or comment and I don't feel compelled to writer riveting prose. I've done a bit on my novel but it is virtually impossible to do more than a few hundred words and I went through a week where when I tried, I simply wanted to toss it all out the window and pretend it never happened. Everything about it stunk. I didn't, of course, but the impulse is still hanging around.

No, the creative stuff is what I'm having the most trouble with. I simply can't shake the brain fog. This is about as bad as it has ever been and today is a bit better than usual. I feel as if I need days and days of sleep. I push through the work day to come home feeling as if I've done an all nighter. I could go to bed at 7 p.m. and sleep but I'd be up in six hours in pain and my schedule would really get out of whack. I doubt I'd get through the work day.

I think it is time for a real vacation. Seriously, I need to start planning it. I have to do it well in advance or I will just sit at home and do nothing. Which, if I think about it, sounds heavenly if I could be sure no one would need something. No, the only way to do that is leave town. But funds are severely limited and thus my choices. I would dearly love to have a week, in a room, on the beach where I could wake up in the morning and look out and see the blue ocean and hear the waves. I'd go sit in a chair or lie on a blanket in the sand and bask in the warmth of a coastal sun. I'd slater up with lotion with just enough spf to let me toast a bit. The cost of that little trip is beyond me.

The other problem with this idea is with the fog in my brain I don't like driving and going places because it becomes very confusing after a bit and extremely tiring. So, I'd end up feeling depressed to be stuck in one place alone. I suspect it is why I really don't do the shopping thing at all anymore. I used to tolerate it once in awhile if I had company. These days, it ends up a long walk to nowhere and I feel that time could have been better spent and have cost me less in terms of money and energy.

Tonight I've just played it quiet and easy. Took a hot bath, had waffles and sausage for supper. Had a cup of coffee, which I might regret, and discovered that Apple Cider Vinegar in ice water stops my indigestion. Go figure on that last one. I actually like the tart taste of this drink and for some reason, the vinegar makes the water seem colder. I just used about a teaspoon in a 8 ounce glass of water and ice. I didn't realize the indigestion was gone while. That's when I realized I could have those waffles, sausage, and coffee. An upside down day, for sure.

Now I think I will stop this and get ready for bed. Last night I was in bed by 10:30. I am planning on doing that tonight. I'd like to do it for several weeks and see how I feel. One of the problems with fibro is sleep deprivation. No matter how much you get, it seems to never be enough. And, if you really don't get enough, you pay a heavy price. The fog is near impenetrable.

So, good night sweet prince, wherever you may be. Our paths are not destined to cross. For you are there and I am here. And never the twain shall meet.

To the rest of you, g'nite.

Wednesday Weather - 03/05/14

Wow, another Wednesday here already. I can't believe it. It started with fog, lots of fog. I could see about a block away so driving wasn't an issue but it is just so depressing to have clouds all the time. Today was recertification day at work so I didn't have time to look out windows but I think the fog lifted pretty quickly and the sun was shining by ten a.m. I think it was warming up, at least the wind wasn't blowing.

I left for lunch right around noon and picked up Mike. I figured he needed to do his laundry by now. He told me he would be fine until the weekend but when he said he was washing out stuff every night I decided probably not. We got lunch together and he took me back to work. I gave him a shopping list and he did that for me.

I hate shopping on any day, regardless of weather. I'm a bit jealous of my Brit friends. They seem to have stores that deliver to their homes and I think that is just way cool. Yes, I'm a 60's & 70's girl. I would have said groovy but I'm not sure if anyone even remembers that word. It was such a good word, too.

The sun was still shinning when I got off and that was nice. Still no wind so the 44 degree temp wasn't uncomfortable, though I still needed a coat. Once home I sat down and didn't get up until 5:30 to get a shower. I'm exhausted and just want to go to bed.

I did some writing last night. Not much but some. The fatigue is really taking everything out of me. I hate the loss of hours that I could better use writing. The cloudy days seem to make it worse. As for fog, I've had the worst brain fog lately than I've had in a very long time. I can't shake it but I figure it is part of the fatigue.

Weather wise, it is warming but physically, I'm dead winter. Cold achy joints, brain fog, and I think I've caught a cold on top of that. I've had problems with that for weeks now, tightness in my chest. The last couple of days I've been coughing and sneezing. Winter is hanging on.

At the moment it is 43 degrees and the sun has set. I'm boiling eggs for sweet pea salad. When I was a kid we called it English pea salad. Sweet peas were called English peas and no I don't know why. That was just on the can and that's what we called it. I still call them that. They are little round green peas and them make a nice cold salad, perfect for all kinds of quick meals. One can of drained peas, one or two boiled eggs - chopped up, a tablespoon of sweet relish ( tend to use more like two because I like added flavor), and about a tablespoon or two of mayonnaise. Stir it all together and viola. Oh stop it. It is very good. If you've never tried it don't knock it. It works really well at social functions because it is cheap and easy to prepare and virtually everyone I know who has eaten it likes it. And if there is left over, put it in the fridge, covered, and tomorrow, it is just as good if not better.

Ok, now I want to eat so I have to go and prepare it. I hope wherever you are that the weather is good, the sun is shining or stars are sparkling on you. May you spend the day with happy thoughts or your night with sweet dreams.

The Nasty Word

I love words, nearly all of them. They're so useful and sometimes they just convey exactly the right thing. In Psalm 19:14 it says, "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer." I find that so confirming that words are tangible things that have tremendous power. So much power, in fact, that David believed they can actually displease God. Wow.

I read something today and the word nasty came to mind and kind of stopped me in my tracks. It was just so fitting in that instance. "That's just nasty." I looked it up and was surprised by the enormous range of the word. It covers just about everything you can imagine. Yes, yes, yes, I know adjectives are nasty creatures and writers are supposed to avoid them like the plague. But this word is just awesome.

nas·ty adjective \ˈnas-tē\
: very unpleasant to see, smell, taste, etc.
: indecent and offensive
: unpleasant and unkind
nas·ti·ernas·ti·est

Full Definition of NASTY

1    a:  disgustingly filthy, b :  physically repugnant
2      :  indecent, obscene
3      :  mean, tawdry
4    a:  extremely hazardous or harmful
     b:  causing severe pain or suffering
     c:  sharply unpleasant :  disagreeable
5   a:  difficult to understand or deal with
     b:  psychologically unsettling :  trying
6     :  lacking in courtesy or sportsmanship
     (From Merrium-Webster - Online)

Think about it. It has a zillion uses! 

Dirty underwear: nasty. Dirty socks that have lain in a locker for two weeks: nasty. The neighbor's cat brought you a rodent: nasty. The customers who shop with the working girl on Maple and Vine: nasty. The leak at Chernobyl: nasty. The burn I got taking a heated pad out of the microwave: nasty. The leftover lasagna you forgot to put away last night: nasty. The day old oatmeal you left in the bowl when you rushed off to work: nasty. The fresh oatmeal in your bowl: nasty. The way the ground looks from the roof: nasty. The rude woman in the billing office when I pointed out her mistake: nasty.

So, nasty is a very cool word that covers a plethora of emotions and opinions. I think it rolls off the tongue rather satisfactorily, too. It takes your whole face to say it. I mean, you crinkle your nose, your brows draw together, and you raise your upper lip just slightly and utter the perfect word. "That's nasty."

A Letter to the Lost One

Hi,

Not many people know this about me. I don't talk about it. I have only mentioned it in passing a few times in my whole life, when the subject came up. 

In 1978 Jerry and I were living in Germany. We had been married five years. We'd never managed to get pregnant during that time and since we suddenly had insurance, we went to have tests run. We were thinking about adopting but wanted to be sure first. One of my test was a God-awful biopsy. My doctor was a nice Indian man named Abrol. I liked him. Just as he was about to preform the test. He said, "This will be like a bee sting." 

That was a lie. It hurt so bad that I couldn't even scream. I just gasped. I remember that so clearly.

Shortly after the test was run, within weeks, I actually became pregnant. When I went back to my doctor and he said, "I hope your husband doesn't blame me for this." I cracked up, he blushed when he realize how it sounded, and the nurse gasped and said, "DR. ABROL!" Then we all laughed. I was so happy.

I had the usual sick feeling, no vomiting. I also got clumsy, actually fell a couple of times, and I had vision issues when I tried to read. The text would go blurry. I went for an exam and it didn't reveal anything wrong. Ten weeks later, they put me in the hospital because they thought I was going to miscarry.

I was so scared. Everyday they came to do a test to see if you were still alive. And every day I was frightened they'd come in and say, "No." Finally, about a week after my admission, they came in and said you were dead. 

I was devastated. Five years I'd waited and then, you were snatched away. 

I remember the Catholic chaplain coming into the ward and stopping by my bed. I was staring out the window, with silent tears running down my face. He sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders and talked to me. I do not remember what he said to me. I only remember how grateful I was for his presence.

They told me that they had to preform a D & C because you did not leave willingly. Afterward, I remember waking up and seeing your dad and asking, "Is it over?" He caught my hand and said, "Yes." I wept. I see it clear as a picture. Now that he's gone, I see a lot of things clear as day. 

For a long time I wondered if you were really dead at that point. Had they made a mistake?Did I actually have an abortion. And I cringe at the thought. Crazy, huh?

I always thought you were a girl. I don't know why. It just felt right. It still does. I don't know if you had blue eyes or green ones, if you would be left handed like me or right handed like him. For a long time I wondered such things. From time to time, I still do. Would you be a tomboy, like me? Or would you be a fine princess?

After I went home I cried for days and I had nightmares about losing you. In my dreams I'd be looking everywhere for you. For weeks. They gave me pills to help. I ended up flushing them down the toilet one day when I found myself considering taking the whole bottle. I decided if I could't get through it without pills then it wouldn't be worth the effort.

Never, in all these years have I stopped thinking about you. Oh, not like I did at first. But you come to my mind now and then and I wonder all over again, what kind of person you would have become. A doctor? A teacher? A famous author? Who would you have married? How many children would you have had? So many questions I would love to have answers to but you never had the chance to even form them.

Recently it occurred to me that at last he got to meet you. He knows the color of your hair, your eyes, and if you have dimples. I had no doubt that that would have been a joyous reunion. And I was jealous. Jealous that I never had the chance to hold you and rock you and sing to you. Jealous that I didn't get to see his face when you met for the first time. 

I hope they have photos in heaven and someone remembered to take that one.

Wendesday Weather - 02/26/14

I firmly believe God  has a great sense of humor. This morning when I got up I kind of thought the big guy was having one on me. I woke up to snow... again. Admittedly, it was just a dusting of snow but it was snow just the same. We're pretty sick of it around here. The only plus was that the sun was shining.

I'm astounded at how a bit of sunlight seems to make the day a little less harsh, a little less painful. I crawled out of bed reluctantly but after looking out the window, I felt slightly less depressed. Only slightly.

Frankly, I'd have been a lot happier if it had been warm. The high reached 34, I think, sometime in the middle of the day so warm wasn't an option. I hate cold weather and this winter had been like a frozen hell. At least, for me.

I've never had as much pain in my life as I have from November through February. I'm talking pain that effects your thinking and mobility to a point you think you're about to die. Tonight, I have pain in my lower back, both knees, my thighs, calves, and my right ankle. No, just the right one. My neck hurts but the left side of my neck I think is affecting my balance. I get dizzy spells. No, I'n not having much fun. The winter wonderland isn't.

So, I'm ready for sunshine and hot days. I pray that God smiles on me and my winter aches are blown away by March winds.

Tea Leaves

Another weekend has started and I sincerely hope it is better than my last one. My poor Sarah was here last weekend and was vomiting and running a fever from Sunday afternoon until Monday morning. Some sort of stomach bug I suspect and I am eternally thankful to God that I seemed to have bypassed it. I suspect the medicine I take on Saturday for RA probably killed everything in my stomach. A positive for a med that is working no better than the other one was before this last flare, which I'm still experiencing.

On Thursday I woke up with a storm migraine. The pressure must have been very low because I woke up with a slight headache and horrible pain in my neck. I put an ice pack around my neck and headed for work. I've never done that before and I was very stressed about the towel it was wrapped in, a purple and white stripe that did not match my outfit. I was sure other drivers were staring at me. I kept the thing on till it melted, around 9 a.m. and wished for the other one at home in the freezer.

Sometime around mid-morning I took an Imitrix and waited for it to work. By then, I was not doing well. I felt horrible and I knew when the pill kicked in it would get worse before it got better. And it did. I left work at 1 p.m. and came home, sat down in the recliner and wrapped up in a blanket and covered my eyes. Even the gray light filtering in between the curtains, through the sheers from the windows was not nice.

The storm worsened but it was mostly wind until later that evening when I think it rained. Not sure because I didn't go out. Once I heard things blowing around on the porch like marbles in a can. It was the lawn chairs. They're plastic but it still takes a bit of wind to blow one over. These were blowing all over the porch. I cracked the storm door thinking I'd check on the. When the wind threatened to toss me around, I quickly shut it and went back inside. The chairs could fend for themselves.

The headache hung on for a bit, if slightly less horrible, but as a result I had a pretty miserable night. I simply could not get comfortable and slept badly. I had bought some new pillows on Tuesday thinking that maybe that would help my neck. They felt really comfortable but with this neck I never know. 

Anyway, Thursday night, for some reason the neck was not happy with my choices. When I woke up I was in pain and had a new and different headache. This wasn't a migraine but caused by the problem in my neck. 

Let me stop here and explain. I don't have "simple" headaches, ever. The migraines are nearly blinding at times and nauseating. My version of an "average" headache is often accompanied by dizziness and pressure. I also have visual issues with both the serious migraine and my average headache. My eye doctor said the visual problem is also a migraine but they don't generally hurt. They don't, they just terrify you. You may see flashing lights, gray blobs, or you may be very dizzy. Friday morning I had pain over my right eye and my neck was killing me. That's a "simple" headache.

But I forgot about the migraine hangover. 

I was exhausted and I felt terrible but I got dressed for work and tried to tell myself I was ok and could work. Just before I stared out of the house I remembered I had not brushed my teeth. In the bathroom I looked in the mirror and realized my teeth weren't the only thing I forgot. My hair, while sexily mussed, was not brushed but remained in the french braid I'd put in it the night before. I'd slept badly, tossing and turning. I looked at myself and I think that's when I started to cry. 

I called in sick and dragged myself to the living room. Once again I took a blanket, stretched out in the recliner with an ice pack, took two 8 hour pain killers. After that, I don't remember much until noon. 

I stayed in my chair all day except to eat. I got up and walked around now and then, went to the bathroom, or got something to drink. But I basically stayed there. I felt better. The hangover and headache were gone and I wasn't as exhausted as I had been when I got up. 

Which brings us to today. I am about to get ready for lunch. Mike and I are going to eat Mexican. Then, I have a writer's meeting at 2 p.m. Not sure who'll be there but I'm taking my laptop and I'm going to write some. 

I'm beginning to feel as if I'm looking at tea leaves in the bottom of a cup. There has to be something here that means something, that is trying to send me a message. I sat and pondered that off and on yesterday. Alas, my gifts do not run to the psychic, despite my creating an adept psychic spy. I don't read tea leaves, or runes, or bones. I rely on my gut, intuition, instinct, whatever you want to call it. Generally, this has always worked. Lately, not so much. 

For now, I'll just try and decipher the menu at the Mexican restaurant.

Wednesday Weather - 02/20/14

 Today the sun shone all day and it wasn't nearly as cold. I am so ready for spring. I was tempted to just wear my fleece shawl but went with my coat since it was still rather cold. When I went home for lunch around noon, the weather was bright sunny and had warmed considerably. So, when I returned to work I took the shawl and it was just right. By the time I got off at 4 p.m. I was tempted, very tempted to go to the cemetery and walk but decided it was still too chilly for me to handle. Instead I went and bought mouse traps.

Why mouse traps? This morning I was sitting enjoying my coffee and simply meditating before work. I had fixed a toaster pastry for breakfast and put the paper in the trash. As I sat there I heard something in the trash shifting. I was just feet from the kitchen door and could clearly hear it. I got up and eased around the door. A big, fat mouse was just climbing over the edge of the can. It disappeared just as I danced back into the living room with a squeal. I guess it was having breakfast, too. 

I'm near a nature preserve and field mice are prevalent when you have such places. I've lived here for over 22 years but never had a problem until a neighbor's garage was torn down over 10 years ago. Since then, I'm constantly battling the little furry demons. They thought my house was Noah's Ark. I tried all manner of poison and fancy traps. The most effective trap is the old one you remember from your childhood. Victory traps, built the same way they've always been made, with the little curled metal piece where you put the bait.

I had one mouse trap left and so I set it before I left for work. When I got home at lunch, I had a mouse. I disposed of it but realized I had to go buy another more traps. 

It was a busy day but I was so tired that it took a lot for me to keep going. By the time I got off all I wanted to do was sit in my chair, which I did.

Now, at 8 p.m. I'm seriously thinking about bed. I hope tomorrow will be another sunny day.

Wednesday Weather - 02/12/14

Oh my goodness! I woke up with sunshine in my face. It was such a wonderful experience that I just lay there for a minute. When I got up I sat on the bed and stared at everything. It all looked so ... different in sunlight. The best thing was that the whole day was filled with sunshine, even it it was terribly cold. I don't think it got over 29 degrees all day. Getting out to go to lunch was a positive experience, even if it was freezing. I'm a coastal girl and sunshine is like food for me.

My neck is better but is still hurting at certain angles. I have no solution for this. I sneezed once today and my neck had this horrible pain begin where my neck and the top of my shoulder meet and it shot up the side of my neck to my jawbone. I almost screamed but trying to sneeze at the same time made that impossible. It hurt so bad. It has hurt a bit more ever since. It really feels as if the ligaments are sore.

I've been playing hookie from writing. The neck simply made me a zombie and I'm now annoyed by it. I want it to stop so I can get something done. I need to clean house too and we won't even talk about the piles of laundry that are in the spare room. I just hope now one comes to spend the night. Of course, if they do... they could help me fold sheets and towels.

On top of the neck pain and slacking, I think I've caught a cold. I've been sneezing like mad all day and I've had a runny nose, more so than my allergy nose, for days now. I hate this as it takes me so long to get over stuff. I'm fortunate in some ways. Two co-workers were very sick with something when I was off for David's wedding. They missed a couple of days work. When I got back, they were on the mend, if still sick, and I stayed in my end of the building for two weeks to avoid them. This week, a third co-worker came down with a cold. She elected to come to work, warning everyone she was sick. No, I don't know why she came in. She said she had work to do. Anyway, she's been batting around for two days, standing in my space and handling equipment. I don't think I got this from her but I don't need two strains of cold on top of one another.

I'm now thinking about taking a short vacation. I have to get away. I really need the ocean and sand but I don't know what to do. Money is not tighter than ever with the cut in hours and so I have to conserve where I can. I so want to go to England. It feels like I'll never be able to do it. I know if I take a trip somewhere alone I won't really enjoy it. Carolyn suggested another writer's conference and I could go back to Austin this year. That was so expensive and I don't think I can afford it. Besides, there is one in October, Muse Online is free. You know, I considered going somewhere then and staying in a hotel and doing that conference online. Sounded crazy when I reconsidered it but for just a moment, it sounded totally fun. Why pay to stay when I could do it here for nothing. So, I may do it but I won't leave home. I will tell everyone to stay away and not call me.

I came home and have been vegetating on the sofa all afternoon. It is now 8 p.m. and I don't know how it got that late. So, I'll end here. The weather was lovely, despite the chill. Now, I want more and warmer. Can't wait to get outside again.