Paper, thoughts, and little strips of memories are strewn over all available flat surfaces in my writing room. On one table, I have the bits and pieces of material for sewing. For the first time in two months, I have had time to let my mind wander. Who am I? Why am I here? What am I doing in this tiny apartment with a little black dog for a companion?
When I was twelve almost thirteen one of my mother’s great uncles died, leaving her a library full of original books that ranged from classics to pulp fiction. I was introduced to Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. I read stories of men and even women who ventured into outer space and explored worlds. This taste of the fantastic led me to Andre Norton and her Witch Worlds.
In my deepest memories and emotions, I wanted to travel. I wanted to see new worlds and I wanted to see planets who had double suns or double moons. Even with these ambitions, my life kept coming back to the world– the one everyone else had created. When I found out that only NASA (and the Russians) had space programs, I wanted to be a part of it. Of course, it didn’t work out that way. I had neither the money or status to get an education. No one was interested in educating a white woman whose public education only extended to seventh grade.
Still I had hope that we had walked on the moon, so our governments couldn’t put that genie in the bottle. But they did. When I turned 40, I lost hope– and became very ill. For years I was out of my mind from the meds and the disease. Thank god, for my late-hubby who was my caretaker and my support.
I had to turn my ambitions to something else. I started to write. My only hope was that I could populate the world with my ambitions to travel and see new things. My hope was that I could find new worlds in my imagination. Ironically, I wrote fantasy better than sci-fi.
So my dark secret? I envy you– there are at least two private companies making space craft and are looking to the stars. There are probably more that are planning to make the attempt. It is sad that our country has to use Russia for transportation to the Space shuttle.
So ask yourself– Why are we still earthbound?
It has been a wild ride this last month. This weekend my brother and nephews (a few honorary nephews) helped move the last of my stuff into my new apartment. This includes my tables, chairs and recliner. I have boxes above my eyeballs in the living room and gradually I will be opening them and putting them away.
I thought I had gotten rid of a lot of stuff, but obviously I have more than I expected. So I will continue to wean until I get down to one-person land again. I still miss Otto and always will.
Foxy is settling in. She is having to share her doggy land with other chihuahuas. I was told that there is a doggy park just down the road. When I am more settled, I’ll take her there. It was great to see an almost 80 year old man, walking with a walker, and a dog walking by his side. Almost everyone here has a support dog.
I want to mention the help and encouragement I received to get through all of this trauma that seemed to be following me around this month. I had some friends who would take me away from the stress and either feed me or take me to the movies. These breaks really helped me to refocus on what I needed to do next.
Also I want to thank my brother who supported me all the way especially when I needed to get the heavy stuff moved. Almost everything is too heavy for me to lift anymore.
To Jolie who contacted me and offered to help with the cleaning. I couldn’t have finished all of that yesterday without her help. She also showed me that the cleaning I had been doing as I packed actually made the last of the cleaning easier to do. In my mind it was a monster and she reduced it to a mouse.
So I still have a lot to do with unpacking. I am stiff and sore today so I think I will take a break from it. I am setting up my writing room again. I feel like I’m home.
This has been one of the most stressful months in a long time. I was in a car accident, some money I was expecting was terminated, and my rent was raised. Most of this happened while I was recovering from a concussion and whiplash from the car accident.
I wasn’t thinking straight and it felt like the world had decided to stomp all over me. When I tried to read I would get sharp pains in my head. When I tried to think in the future, my head would ache. For a couple of days there, I would stare off into space. I was scared because I could only see homelessness ahead of me and the dog.
Thankfully I was able to get help and the last few weeks I have been doing physical therapy, which included deep tissue massage and neck traction. Normally I would hate being strapped into a machine that makes me feel helpless. However, as the machine stretched my neck and then released it, I could feel the pain get less. So a few weeks later, I can read, write, and think.
When I received the notice for the rent, I was still not thinking properly. Even so, I was sure that I needed to look for a new place. Somewhere closer to my specialty doctors and somewhere closer to better emergency medicine. If I hadn’t had the car accident, I might have stayed in this apartment. It was the push of the two other things that made me start looking again. I was a crab who had gotten comfortable with its shell.
I took Foxy with me when I looked at the apartment. The gardens are lovely. The staff are willing to help make the place comfortable. Also, they do wellness checks.
Just finding this apartment has decreased my stress to a low level. I will still be in a two bedroom. It is almost impossible to get a one bedroom in this city. One bedroom will be my writing and workshop room. The square footage is about the same as my current apartment.
I am looking forward to starting my new life.
“For everything there is a season” and since my last post, it has been the a time for headaches–literally and figuratively.
If you have been reading my facebook page, on September 20, 2016 I was involved in a rear-end accident. I came out of it with a lump on my head, a headache, and strained neck muscles. The pressure on my head during the next few days was enough that I couldn’t thing clearly for a long time. I’m pretty sure I am still not thinking clearly, but that is another issue.
At this time, I am seeing a physical therapist. I am hoping that all the other issues will eventually resolve as I do the exercises, and have traction. Many of the issues come and go except for the headache.
So two issues– when I read for a period of time or stare at the monitor screen–for for instance when I am writing a blog post– the headache gets worse. I have problems with in close stuff which includes knitting and crocheting. Each day I feel better, but each day brings new challenges. Even though I don’t want to admit it, I am in pain. Even worse, I do this cold turkey without OTC painkillers.
The foundation of my life is crumbling again. At least it is not as bad as when I lost my late-husband. I am having problems planning for the next steps. So the cryptic note, one project, one day, one exhaustion at a time.
Life has once more landed on top of me and smashed me flat.
The one good thing this month is that my kidneys stabilized again. I am at Stage IV kidney disease and I am forever walking the line between bad and worse. Filtering my water, taking Omega 3s, and turmeric seems to be helping my kidneys. I am also eating more fish. I’m eating less beef, pork, and chicken. I would love to be a carnivore, but life has once again made me conform.
Epictetus, a former slave turned philosopher said “We cannot choose our external circumstances, but we can always choose how we respond to them.”
So today I will choose to respond with patience and kindness as I traverse whatever legal, physical, or spiritual challenges in front of me.
It has been two years since I held his hand as he slipped away from me. His christian name was Edward Dave Tune, but I called him Otto.
He wasn’t a Saint. His sense of humor was what took him through life and it is the one thing that I miss the most. So it is fitting that he died on “Talk like a Pirate Day.”
I used to have dreams that we buy an RV and go from State to State– sometimes in my dreams we would fly from planet to planet and find new places and new scenery.
He was the one that had no fear. He would stand on roofs and the edge of mountains. I am the cautious one. I would stand behind him on the cliffs so I wouldn’t fall. I miss that he would protect me. Up until I met him, I had never had anyone protect me. My exterior is tough because I have had to be that way. It was the same for him. He could scare people with just a look.
Inside I considered him my soft teddy bear. With him I was a better person, a kinder person. So I think of him with a tinge of sadness because I miss him so gawd damn much. I was much better with him. Yet, I am so grateful that we had twenty-two years together.
RIP my sweetie.
So I had an appointment on Tuesday, a lunch on Wednesday, and another appointment today. Then at the beginning of next week after the holiday, I need to get my labs done to check my kidneys. In between I have been looking critically at what I have overflowing in closets and other spaces, and I have decided to get things cleaned, sold, or given away while I have the energy.
There is a thought in the back of my mind that I won’t have the time or energy to complete all of this in three months. Don’t ask me what is going to happen in three months because I don’t know. When I think that far ahead, I feel a heaviness that tells me another big change is coming.
I used to like change. When I was younger, moving to a new place wasn’t scary. I thought that adventure was seeing new places and making new friends. Then off I would go to another adventure in a new place with new friends. It changed when I had my huge health change. It wasn’t just a scare– it was an entire change of life. I had orders that I couldn’t be around large groups of people. Since I live near Las Vegas, it meant that while I was on a chemo like Cytoxan, I couldn’t go to events, theaters, or malls. My late-hubby used to take me to malls during the time of day when most people were doing other things. I carried wet wipes and we would wipe down every bench before I sat. I would walk twenty feet and then have to sit down again. Those were survival days.
When I lost my hubby, it was another huge change. It changed my physical, social, and mental frame of reference. I am still dealing with the aftershocks. I suspect this change that I am dreading has to do with my kidneys.
I notice that I cramp more at night even when I take vitamins and drink enough water. Sometimes I have a low- grade fever. Both of these symptoms can cause sleep deprivation which can cause the short-term cognitive problems. Or it might be the kidneys again. So last night I slept like the dead. It was good. The little doggy jumped up and down on my side before I woke up. I could have slept another two hours.
So I am beginning to dread change– change means illness and more problems to solve. Change means that when I move, I can’t carry those heavy boxes, like I used to do. It means that when I move the furniture, I spend two to three days resting.
Change means that I meet new people and worry about getting new infections. On the other hand, I have met others who are dealing with some of the same problems. Plus I am learning tolerance for the ill and infirmed. Sadly, I had to become one of them before I could feel for them.
Still– I have cleared out things that I haven’t used or seen used in a decade or more. The apartment feels lighter.
Lately I have been reading about weird government programs such as “remote viewing,” a program that is immortalized in “Men Who Stare At Goats.” The movie has George Clooney as the main character. I saw the movie when it first aired on Netflix a few years ago. Then I dismissed it as fiction.
What got me interested in this subject was a you-tube video in the Dark Matter channel, where Art Bell interviews one of the remote viewers. My first reaction is “this can’t be right.” Why would they use military personnel for basically a psychic untested theory? So I went further and researched the heck out of it.
After reading four accounts of folks who worked in the program and a little online search, and found to my shock that it was true. There are only a few reasons that government agencies would use this type of program. One, the Russians were using psychic spying. Yes, they were. Two, the program had a high success rate. Considering the program ran approximately twenty years, it had a good success rate until it lost funding and was turned over to the CIA. Of course, the CIA gave it the coup de grace in 1995.
So where does this put me??? A naysayer? A person who truly believed that psychic phenomenon couldn’t be measured? If you read the accounts, the remote viewers describe it as a virtual video game instead of a psychic experience because they use the entire body. Some call it a “martial art of the mind.”
It’s been a wild journey through my brain as I read these accounts. We are more connected and less isolated than we believe. We live in a Quantum world instead of the Newtonian world, we had always known.
Some of this I could see as a fiction story– and might have been written in the 1950s by one of the classic sci-fi authors. It blows my mind that this program is in the past and not the future.
Some of these remote viewers started teaching their techniques to ordinary people and to natural psychics. Some of these remote viewers help find kidnapped children.
Let’s explore interconnectedness. It means that the good wishes and prayers have an effect on all of us. A few decades ago, I was blown away when we found that the brain had weak electrical fields. Now researchers have an “Electromagnetic Brain Theory.” Go and read that one and you’ll think you were living in the future.
I don’t know why this is so fascinating to me. I know that after all this reading, some of it will find its way into my stories.