Quote of the day

“Words are like the wind and the waves…flow with whatever may happen and let your mind be free; stay centered.”

~Chuang Tzu

Wish it were fiction…

Six weeks into recovery and I’m now seeing a wound care specialist once a week in addition to my surgeon. Apparently a section of my skin was compromised during surgery, where there was no blood flow and the skin simply died. This left a rather large, nasty looking wound right next to the incision, for reasons the doctor cannot explain.

On my visit last Wednesday, he was very happy with the x-ray results, in that my bone is healing nicely, just as it should, with the nightly bone stimulator treatments, but he was concerned that the wound was not healing as it should, and so sent me to the wound care specialist.

Very nice doctor and RN treated me yesterday at hospital; removed the dead area of tissue so that the skin can now properly heal from the inside out. Showed hubby the proper way to clean and dress the wound daily, and sent me home with a bag full of supplies, until the insurance reviews and approves the necessity of providing supplies to me. They also spoke of skin grafting they think will be necessary once the wound has had a couple weeks to heal.

While all this sounds simple and effective, I’m looking at the calendar and counting down the days until January 1st, when my insurance coverage starts all over and a $5000 deductible must be met before the insurance actually kicks in and starts paying for anything, and wondering just how much healing they can get done in the next twelve days; because after that, I’m on my own, whether they like it or not.

This past week the insurance rep came to the office, went over selected coverage, explained the new premiums and such and sent me away with a signed document showing that my 24 annual premium deductions will total $10,500 for 2010. Add the $5000 deductible to that I will be paying a whopping and nauseating $15,500 next year for health insurance!

That’s Fifteen THOUSAND five hundred dollars for health insurance…

FUCK!

Now, before anyone starts in on me, I am well aware how thankful I should be that I work for a company who is even offering health insurance, and I am very grateful; but still…

My husband gave me a gentle reality check when he reminded me of my mother’s unexpected trip to the ER when she was here in November to take care of me and help out immediately after my surgery. She was having belly issues and when she called her doctor in Cincy they told her to get to the hospital STAT. Turns out she has diverticulitis and was experiencing her very first flare. Welcome to the club little mama!

Anyway, she just received the bill from the hospital a week ago, of which her insurance covered completely, outlining each and every expense incurred during her little five hour visit and it was $7300. YOWAZ!

Okay, so twenty grand for health insurance might not be a drop in the bucket of overall expenses we could incur in the span of a year, but damn that’s a lot of my money! Still, I would prefer to select my own coverage and my own physicians rather than have the government do it for me.

Sometimes I just want to be a kid again…

Quote of the day

“You can’t demand respect from others, when you haven’t an ounce of respect for yourself.”

~Jill Terry

She wonders why

It starts the same every time. She has a story she wants to share, and being her friend and loving her like I do, I’m there for her and more than happy to listen; though it’s the same worn out tale she’s been weaving for almost a year now and always ends in a river of tears. But while the lesson has yet to be learned, I’m not giving up hope.

I know what she wants, whether or not she’s ready to admit it to herself; and she knows I’m right. She wants to be loved, plain and simple. But she’s not going to find it in a local pub, filled with other lonely women looking for love and men just looking to score.

It’s the attention that makes her high; gives her a feeling of invincibility, self-assuredness, validation as a single woman in her late thirties. That is, until the euphoria diminishes and she’s left alone, wondering why they never call just to chat or want hang out; and why not one of them has, or will ever, buy her dinner, take her to the theatre, cook for her, introduce her to their family; or any of the things that people in relationships do.

Yes…she wonders why.

Uh, could it be because she’s not dating; not in a relationship with these men. She’s just fucking and recognized as the one sure thing the minute she walks through that door; every Thursday night, like clockwork.

Enough with the excuse that she was married with a baby right out of high school and just now sowing her wild oats; the thing she has that her little girl friends don’t, is twice as much living experience, but she still lacks that sense of self; still filled with little girl insecurities.

She works so hard for all that she has, yet she gives herself away; to anyone who will have her. And still she wonders why she’s alone.

Times may have changed, but people haven’t. A whore is still a whore, no matter the age. And don’t get me started about safe sex practices and her lack thereof; or the example she’s setting for her teenage daughter!

I did say I wasn’t giving up hope, didn’t I?

Christmas Cards

The first commercially produced Christmas card was created in London in 1843, at a time when Charles Dickens published A Christmas Carol and Queen Victoria was introducing German Christmas traditions to the British populace. The popularity of Christmas cards grew throughout the mid-nineteenth century and spread to both sides of the Atlantic. Imagery on Victorian Christmas cards was quite different from today’s standards. Bouquets of spring and summer flowers were more common than seasonal or religious images. By the early twentieth century, as increasing numbers of publishers capitalized on the rising demand of Christmas cards, the imagery became standardized with more seasonal and religious imagery.

Back to the madness

The first day in weeks with absolutely no medication at all; hallelujah, what a milestone! The day also marked my first trip outside the house in weeks, but for the few doctor appointments that I was chauffeured to; there and back.

Today I had to get out. Not because I felt the overwhelming need that had crept up and seized me so many times in the previous weeks, but for sheer necessity alone; proving that I was capable and come Monday, could face the alarm clock, pick myself up, drive myself to the office and get on with my life.

I had a little list; things that I’d been meaning to ask for, but kept putting off. And so I decided a short trip to the drugstore would be a good test; nothing too strenuous, just a few miles from home.

Mind you, I’ve only had to make my way around my house on crutches, so I was thankful for the wheelchair just inside the front doors at Walgreens, and my son had a blast pushing me around with the little blue basket in my lap, filling it as we traversed row after row.

Our errand was accomplished and we even managed a few laughs and giggles in the process. We left the wheelchair at the door and I crutched it back to the van, which was in the front row, just a few spaces from the door. However, I’m not able to drive with the cast, so I have to remove it, which is no small feat let me tell you, even though it’s made to be removable.

So, I’m trying to do all this on my own, even though my son wants to help, because come Monday, I’ll be on my own and need to get the process down. So the cast is off and I’m slipping on a shoe so I could drive, trying to position the cast and crutches between the two front seats for easy access and I hear someone honking their horn.

We turned to look and there’s this woman with who I assume is her daughter, stopped at the end of the car beside us; her blinker is on and clearly she’s wanting my spot, but apparently I’m not moving fast enough for her.

We ignore her and go about our business. He gets in as I’m still messing with the crutches and I start the van and she honks again; this time a little longer, a little more annoying. In much more of a hurry now for me to get the hell out of her way; and I feel my blood pressure begin to rise.

We were putting on our seatbelts just as the driver of the car parked beside us comes out of the store and gets in their car, but not before she honks again! And so I wait.

And while I wait I put the passenger window down, knowing she’s about to pull in beside us, just as Cole puts the hood of his sweatshirt up and slowly eases his seat back out of the line of fire.

She whips her car in, looks at me with a scowl on her face and throws her hands up as if to say, “What the Fuck.” I’m leaning over toward the window now waiting for her to emerge, and I saw the scowl disappear when looked over and saw my position at the ready, then turned back and fumbled with her bag. Her teenage daughter got out before her and gave me an apologetic look which I completely ignored.

The moment her head cleared the door I pounced….

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said a little louder than probably necessary, but wanting to be certain not to miss this opportunity, lest I would be forced to cast back up and follow her into the store. She looked at me and cocked her head, as I was continuing to infringe on her precious time.

“ I’m sorry I wasn’t moving fast enough for you; I was busy adjusting my crutches and fixing my leg before I could pull out and drive off”, and picked up my crutches from between the seats for affect, which caused her face to pale and eyes to widen just enough to be noticeable. She stood there for a moment looking at me, but still said nothing. My point was made, but I wasn’t quite done.

“Perhaps if you weren’t in such a fucking hurry and obviously too lazy to walk a few extra steps, you might have noticed the row of empty parking spaces right behind us!” She slammed her door and mumbled something under her breath then yelled at her daughter who was lingering at the front of the car, craning her neck so as not to miss a thing.

I calmly pulled out of my spot as she walked toward the door. I then backed up so that I was even with where she was on the sidewalk and blared my horn long and loud, refrained from telling her she was a stupid bitch, and then calmly drove off.

I apologized to Cole for my ugly behavior and foul mouth. It’s alright,” he said as he pulled his hood down and put his seat back up.” I just wanted to get out of your way because I had a feeling what was coming.” I smiled at him, not knowing if that was a good thing or not.

“She just messed with the wrong person who doesn’t take any crap,” he said. “Besides, maybe it was a good lesson for her. Maybe that’ll make her stop and think twice, the next time she’s in a big hurry.”

Maybe it will…

Quote of the day

“Being Indian is an attitude, a state of mind, a way of being in harmony with all things and all beings. It is allowing the heart to be the distributor of energy on this planet; to allow feelings and sensitivities to determine where energy goes; bringing aliveness up from the Earth and from the Sky, putting it in and giving it out from the heart.”

- Brooke Medicine Eagle

The upside of being down

I’ve never been much of a shopper; that’s not saying I don’t like to buy things, because I love that. I just hate to shop, unless we’re talking about antiquing or book shopping; that’s another matter entirely and events in and of themselves!

It’s the entire shopping process I don’t like. The time it wastes driving in traffic from store to store, when there are so many other things I would rather be doing; the fuel it spends, the act of wandering the stores looking for items and then waiting in never-ending lines to check out. This is just normal shopping I’m talking about, so you can imagine how I loathe holiday shopping; with the Christmas displays they shove in your face, before you’ve even had a chance to inventory the Halloween candy. The crowds, the sales, the wrapping, boxing and shipping; which no matter how good your intentions, always seems like such a hassle and never gets there on time.

And the mall….well, it’s safe to say that I’d rather do just about anything in the world than go to a mall. UGH! I remember the first time my sister-in-law graciously invited me to meet her at 3:00 a.m. on “Black Friday,” I gasped in horror and she looked at me as if I had lost my mind when I immediately declined.

Nope…don’t know why, but I just don’t roll that way.

So, imagine my surprise and delight while in the midst of recovery and forced confinement, to discover that I could prop my laptop on my lap and peruse store after store, purchase my items, have them gift wrapped and shipped directly to their destination. All from the comfort of my sofa!

WOW…just wow!

No muss, no fuss, and absolutely no stress whatsoever! Not to mention that it’s not even Thanksgiving and I’m nearly done with ALL my holiday shopping; gifts already on their way with plenty of time to sit underneath their perspective trees until Christmas morning.

Needless to say, I’m very much looking forward to this stress-free holiday season! No matter how you plan to spend yours, I truly hope it’s a memorable one!

Peace,
Jill

What was I thinking?

It was the day I had anticipated, even before the surgery; the day I would come out of my cast and take my life back. Having spent two weeks locked within the confines of my own walls, seeing the outside world through limited squares of glass; the same view each day, changing significantly given the time of day or night I happened to look out.

I refused to take the medicine, preferring a clear head to an ease in my pain; at least for this day. I emerged into the world canopied by ancient oaks, and the air, though warm and heavy with humidity, felt good and inviting upon my flesh. By the time I made it down the steps, across the walk and to the car in the drive, the first wave of nausea began to assail. Out on the road my head started to spin until I rested my chin on my chest, forced to close my eyes.

Everything familiar; sights and sounds, I had not been part of for so long, yet it went on without me, without any change. Only I was different in this realm; my mind, my body, my thoughts and my purpose; having little to no effect outside my own walls.

A humbling, if not depressing realization, when ones reach gives the illusion of being so broad.

Hours later the cast was removed, my leg no longer my own; as if it were not an extension of my living body; foreign, limp, vulnerable, weak and painful in its numbing healing. And the tears came hard and fast. For I had built up my hopes, created my own beliefs, that I would walk out of that office, my life once more my own. But it didn’t happen like that; didn’t even come close.

And so I sit propped against my pillows, darkness outside my windows; crutches always by my side, leg elevated at all times. Restricted in every way, a new cast worse than the first; more painful, more confining, urging healing of a different manner. Pain in different places, nerves coming back to life; sending lightening bolts of electric heat careening to my toes.

And as I sit, I ponder and I wonder…what in the world was I thinking? Feeling sorry, completely helpless, wanting just my life back; screaming inside my mind, what the hell have I done?!

Then the phone rang and I answered; the voice on the other end never having before called me. “How in the world did you know it was me?” he said. “I’d know that voice anywhere” I answered; my grandfather reaching out from the other side of the world, to see how I was doing. And I realized in that moment that my reach is broader than I could have imagined, and comes to rest in all the right places.

JKSS

It wraps around me
Like a warm familiar
Blanket

Comforting
Soothing
Protective

It warms my chill
Eases my pain
Brings me pause

It takes me back
Holds me steadily
Grounded
Urges my growth

It is unconditional
Never ending

The one true
Constant
That always
Remains

It is priceless
Means everything
Can never be lost
Never replaced

It’s the one possession
I carry with me
From my very first breath
To my dying day

It’s my Mother’s love
I speak of
A love that will never
Fade

Message from Beyond

Been under a great deal of stress of late; having learned that the pain in my leg is not just an increased level in pain, caused by a motorcycle accident I was involved in 1990, but rather a non-union fracture that I’ve been living with, unbeknownst to me, for the past nineteen years. The doctor who saw me in the ER and operated on my leg, twice, after putting the wrong size rod in the first time, told me I had a very low pain threshold and needed to suck it up.

I was twenty-three at the time and thankful to be alive…with my leg intact! So, I sucked it up. Until recently when the pain shot from a continuous ten on a one – ten scale, to an excruciating fifty-three. And so began the arduous process, which will reach fruition tomorrow, with a four to six week recovery period. And therein lies the cause of my stress.

I don’t like going to the doctor for any reason, and I especially do not like surgery; PERIOD! This one, I have been told, will take approximately three hours. My pulse just quickened as I typed those words. Seriously!

It’s not the actual surgery that frightens me, but the anesthesia; being in an unconscious state, put there voluntarily by unnatural means, signing the papers giving permission, releasing the anesthesiologist from any and all responsibility. That just doesn’t work for me. Not to mention the fact that I’m prone to all sorts of unusual activity while in a slow wave or deep REM sleep, and so who knows how far one travels under general anesthesia. I know, I know…but I’m just saying…

Jone, this is a good one for you; can involuntary astral projection occur while in an induced unconscious state?

So, my trepidation reached an all time high this morning and my son, sensing it, was especially loving and attentive. The first time he kissed me goodbye was at the bathroom sink while I was brushing my hair; he told me he loved me and would miss me today and then gave me a kiss. I stepped back and looked at him oddly, to which he cocked his head to the side and gave what I can only describe as a knowing smile. For the scent he emitted was that of my late grandmother.

I loved her better than best. I loved everything about her, especially the way she felt in my arms when I hugged her, and that distinguishing scent that belonged only to her. It was a combination of her face powder, her lipstick, her perfume, her breath, her hair and her very essence. There was never another smell in the world that even came close to that comforting scent I knew and loved so well. Two more times he kissed me before he left and each time he smelled exactly like her.

And so this evening I find myself in an extremely calm and relaxed state; having received her message from beyond; sent through the purest and truest form of love; my child. I know that she loves me still, was able to cross the veil that separates this life from the next to tell me so. She was with me this morning and will be right there by my side tomorrow.

Amazing isn’t it, that the power of love knows no boundaries.

SIGNS

The first letter
Of the first
Word

Put down and
Purged

The stroke of
Midnight

All Hallows Eve

He always
Believed
Her to be a
Witch

Leaving him damned
And cursed

One thousand and one
Her number on
The list

Nameless
Faceless
Meaningless
Conquests

The exact number
Final word count
At the end of first
Go-round

Everything flowing
Coming with ease
Alignments just right
For slaying the
Dead

Quote of the day

“What then do you call your soul? What idea have you of it? You cannot of yourselves, without revelation, admit the existence within you of anything but a power unknown to you of feeling and thinking.”

~ Voltaire

Truth Defined

If I hadn’t
Loved him
So
Much

My loathing
Wouldn’t run
So
Deep

In living color

Called to the carpet
To meet with
Prominent editor

Of finest antiquity
Gigantic Persian
Rug

The office loomed
Enormous
Intimidating

At the end of a
Brightly lit
Corridor

Heart pine floors
Substantial
Eloquent

Strong enough to
Support
Even the largest
Of egos

She held up my
Book
As I entered
The room

Smiling from her
Throne
This stuff is
Good

Closing the cover
Setting it aside
Take a seat
What else have
You got

I sat back
And grinned
Let my spiel
Rip

The sky’s the limit
When you dream
In living color