Today I came across a very phallic cereal, and decided last minute that my son, may not appreciate Crotch Krispies for breakfast.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Dick Cereal
Today I came across a very phallic cereal, and decided last minute that my son, may not appreciate Crotch Krispies for breakfast.
Why can't I just be sick...
Im sick! I hate being sick! Im not talking a 24 hour throw up sick, where I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Im talking stuffy head, sneezing, runny nose, yucky, icky sick!
Apparently everyone in my town is also sick. I know this because decent cold medicine and cough drops are super scarce! (As were the good kleenex)
When Im sick, I dont want to mess with the public at all, if they had a delivery OTC medicine place in my city, I would use them. My beef with being sick in public is partly because I dont want to make other people as miserable as I am, and partly because my tolerance for stupid people is at an all time low when Im sick. Oh, and things that normally just annoy me, totally gross me out.
Tonight at the store, I saw a pudgy woman with shorts so short, I am about 90 percent sure I could see her ovaries, this is not ok. This is not even ok if you are skinny! This may have made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.
But, I digress! Medicine...where was I? Oh so, apparently if you have a cold, the pharmacy automatically thinks you are faking! Yes lady, I cant breathe, one nostril is stuffed up, the other running off my face, I cant breathe, or hear, and I just want to stab myself in the forehead with a fork. Don't get it twisted though, I dont have a head cold, or even a nasty sinus infection. I just put on my sick suit, so that you wouldnt suspect me of making meth in my basement.
Im home now, after presenting my license and having my background checked in the surrounding counties, I was able to pinky promise by signing an "I promise not to make meth agreement." For all my trouble I was allowed to purchase a box of Aleve Cold and Sinus from the pharmacy.
Oh and a quick note to anyone who might be reading: If you wish to purchase Cepacol throat lozenges, its quicker if you dont self check. Apparently these are a "restricted item." This means, that you have to wait for the cashier to come over and grant you permission to have and treat a sore throat.
Apparently everyone in my town is also sick. I know this because decent cold medicine and cough drops are super scarce! (As were the good kleenex)
When Im sick, I dont want to mess with the public at all, if they had a delivery OTC medicine place in my city, I would use them. My beef with being sick in public is partly because I dont want to make other people as miserable as I am, and partly because my tolerance for stupid people is at an all time low when Im sick. Oh, and things that normally just annoy me, totally gross me out.
Tonight at the store, I saw a pudgy woman with shorts so short, I am about 90 percent sure I could see her ovaries, this is not ok. This is not even ok if you are skinny! This may have made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.
But, I digress! Medicine...where was I? Oh so, apparently if you have a cold, the pharmacy automatically thinks you are faking! Yes lady, I cant breathe, one nostril is stuffed up, the other running off my face, I cant breathe, or hear, and I just want to stab myself in the forehead with a fork. Don't get it twisted though, I dont have a head cold, or even a nasty sinus infection. I just put on my sick suit, so that you wouldnt suspect me of making meth in my basement.
Im home now, after presenting my license and having my background checked in the surrounding counties, I was able to pinky promise by signing an "I promise not to make meth agreement." For all my trouble I was allowed to purchase a box of Aleve Cold and Sinus from the pharmacy.
Oh and a quick note to anyone who might be reading: If you wish to purchase Cepacol throat lozenges, its quicker if you dont self check. Apparently these are a "restricted item." This means, that you have to wait for the cashier to come over and grant you permission to have and treat a sore throat.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Touching the ground...
I was born in Dayton, Tennessee. I lived in Dayton from the time I was 7 until I was 13. After that, we moved to Rossville, Georgia.
Today my son and I leave for home. I'm going back to lay some old memories to rest and make some new ones.
I feel a need to go back and touch the ground, to remember where I came from and how life used to be.
I feel this is an ending of an era and the turning of a page for me.
I am hoping that by doing this, I will be able to have some closure and a little peace. I'm not asking for much, just a little acceptance and the ability to get back in the swing of things.
I want Christopher to see what made me who I am. I want him to swim in the river, eat the wild black berries, and smell Tennessee in the morning. I want him to stand by the mountains and feel God all around him. I want him to hike in the caves and experience everything I did as a kid.
Today my son and I leave for home. I'm going back to lay some old memories to rest and make some new ones.
I feel a need to go back and touch the ground, to remember where I came from and how life used to be.
I feel this is an ending of an era and the turning of a page for me.
I am hoping that by doing this, I will be able to have some closure and a little peace. I'm not asking for much, just a little acceptance and the ability to get back in the swing of things.
I want Christopher to see what made me who I am. I want him to swim in the river, eat the wild black berries, and smell Tennessee in the morning. I want him to stand by the mountains and feel God all around him. I want him to hike in the caves and experience everything I did as a kid.
Loss Part 2
After having laid my Mother to rest in April, I find myself yet in an ocean of grief surrounded by people who just cant understand that this is one of the hardest things I have ever had to face.
My father, Dalton, left us on July 16, 2010. Dad was an alcoholic, and after we lost Mom, he never found himself. I guess we were all lost, but he found refuge in a bottle. I found my peace with my Son, friends and others in my life who made sure I ate, attempted sleep, and tried to get back to normalcy as quickly as possible.
I can't say that losing my father was any easier than saying goodbye to my Mother. I held his had the last 20 minutes or so of his life. I was there when he took his last labored breath and fell quiet.
My cousin Tiffany was on her way to the hospital, and I had Mike call her and tell her not to come it was too late. She continued anyway, and I know she did this for me. When I heard that she was on her way still, I did wierd things. I straightened Dad's sheets, I closed his eyes, and even attempted to close his mouth. For some reason I was trying to protect her from any unpleasantness.
I felt stronger this time then I did with my Mom, but maybe it was because I had to be. My father wasnt even cold yet, and already the fighting had begun. I received anonymous text messages, demanding to know where I was when my Father drank himself to death. I was getting forwarded messages from my Brother, from family in Tennessee. They were demanding that we get right to work on cleaning out Dad's house then threatening to have the police called if we did. All of the sudden people were asking for this or that. My parents were more than stuff to me. I removed the pictures and home movies from thier home. The rest of the things there, are just that.....things. I guess if people who have approached me with things like, "Hey, I loved your father, and I would really like something to remind me of him." Or, hey last year I bought your father a new reel and we went fishing together, if you don't have any plans for it, Id like it as a keepsake." But instead, I was hit with, "Hey, since your Dad wont be using his Air Conditioner, do you think I could have it?" Sentences that started with "The only thing I really want is....." made me furious. (If it was something my father had in his possesssion and was borrowing, this is different, by all means, take whatever is yours.)
I think most of my family can fall under one word, INSENSITIVE. I just lost both my parents in 3 months time, they left no wills, no nothing. I have 2 estates to settle a mountain of medical and back tax bills, and I dont even know where to begin. But I have people on my ass already, demanding to know what I am going to do. I would advise sitting quietly and letting me handle mine. Keep the threats and the demands to yourself, or I will be more than happy to drag this out in probate as long as possible.
My father, Dalton, left us on July 16, 2010. Dad was an alcoholic, and after we lost Mom, he never found himself. I guess we were all lost, but he found refuge in a bottle. I found my peace with my Son, friends and others in my life who made sure I ate, attempted sleep, and tried to get back to normalcy as quickly as possible.
I can't say that losing my father was any easier than saying goodbye to my Mother. I held his had the last 20 minutes or so of his life. I was there when he took his last labored breath and fell quiet.
My cousin Tiffany was on her way to the hospital, and I had Mike call her and tell her not to come it was too late. She continued anyway, and I know she did this for me. When I heard that she was on her way still, I did wierd things. I straightened Dad's sheets, I closed his eyes, and even attempted to close his mouth. For some reason I was trying to protect her from any unpleasantness.
I felt stronger this time then I did with my Mom, but maybe it was because I had to be. My father wasnt even cold yet, and already the fighting had begun. I received anonymous text messages, demanding to know where I was when my Father drank himself to death. I was getting forwarded messages from my Brother, from family in Tennessee. They were demanding that we get right to work on cleaning out Dad's house then threatening to have the police called if we did. All of the sudden people were asking for this or that. My parents were more than stuff to me. I removed the pictures and home movies from thier home. The rest of the things there, are just that.....things. I guess if people who have approached me with things like, "Hey, I loved your father, and I would really like something to remind me of him." Or, hey last year I bought your father a new reel and we went fishing together, if you don't have any plans for it, Id like it as a keepsake." But instead, I was hit with, "Hey, since your Dad wont be using his Air Conditioner, do you think I could have it?" Sentences that started with "The only thing I really want is....." made me furious. (If it was something my father had in his possesssion and was borrowing, this is different, by all means, take whatever is yours.)
I think most of my family can fall under one word, INSENSITIVE. I just lost both my parents in 3 months time, they left no wills, no nothing. I have 2 estates to settle a mountain of medical and back tax bills, and I dont even know where to begin. But I have people on my ass already, demanding to know what I am going to do. I would advise sitting quietly and letting me handle mine. Keep the threats and the demands to yourself, or I will be more than happy to drag this out in probate as long as possible.
Friday, June 25, 2010
I am 100 percent certain he is off his effin rocker!
Recently Greg has been harassing me to hear his side of the story. Greg likes to talk about himself, and if he thinks he can get attention, sympathy or whatever, he wont give in until you listen.
Time is precious to me, but what the hell! I let him call me last night and spill his guts.
To bring you up to speed, Greg got locked up for trying to get romanitcally involved with an undercover cop posing as a minor. He met this cop in a chat room called, "Older men for pre-teens". I wont even comment here, but really WTF?!?
So, last night I kept my mouth shut and my ears open, by frantically writing down his every word, so below is his statements, and my thoughts on each.
*My mom never loved my Dad, she stayed with him for my sake as a kid.
Uhm, why didnt she leave him after you were grown, instead of staying with him for 43 years of marriage?
*My Dad was wonderful in the public's eye, but he didnt know how to be a Dad or Husband.
No thoughts here.
In kindergarden, I know I was a girl, because I wanted patent leather Mary Janes really bad.
No thoughts here.
When I was 8 and in therapy, I stood up during a session with Dr. McQ and my Dad, and blurted out. "Im really a girl!" The doctor said, "Let's deal with that later." My Dad said, "No son of mine is going to be a girl," and he left the room.
This scenario doesnt make sense, even a little.
When I got locked up I had alot of time to think, so I decided that it was time to come out and let the world know Im a girl.
When you got locked up I could tell the only thing you were thinking about was how to make your mother and I believe you were framed.
When I went to my court ordered therapy, I asked to speak with my therapist after a session, he took me out in the hall to hear what I had to say. I told him I was supposed to be a girl. The therapist got a cheshire cat grin on his face, and said "It's about time." I knew from the first session you were supposed to be a girl." You are finally on the road to recovery!
I can guarantee that never went down. That is fucking insane, and thats all I have to say about that.
Because I am no longer a man, I dont have to be the breadwinner.
Ok, you do however have to pay child support. And since your ass is single, you may want to rethink that whole breadwinner thing if you want to eat.
There was nothing more I could have offered my kids when I got locked up, they were basically raised. That is why Im ok that they are all in foster care.
Your kids were 5, 11, 11, and 12, definetly ready to support themselves and be productive members of society!
In the womb I had too much dopemine, and then when I was put on haldol at age 8-18and this made me unaware of what was going on. Iam a rare case, that made me female with male genitals.
Other than being fuck crazy, you obviously have too much free time on your hands, and one hell of an imagination.
I am going through a 2nd puberty.
Oh, is that what it is, I thought it was a mid life crisis and an identiy crisis all rolled into one.
They recently discovered a partially developed uterus attached to one of my testicles.
Oh wow, recently they found this? Like the other day? Like when you have no money and no medical coverage, and had to fraudulently file your taxes to pay for your boobies? Not when you had MRIs, and scans and all that back when you used to frequent the ER trying to figure out why your leg was turning black? Or why you constantly bled out the backside.
Iam a good parent, I just made a bad choice.
No Greg, you are a bad parent whose life is built on lies and bad choices.
I think Christopher has a sexual identity problem.
Sorry Greg Im not going to turn my 11 year old over to you so that you can have a companion in all of this.
All of my children are predisposed to being girls.
Uhm ok. Since you have 3 daughters and you think you are a girl, and like there are alot of girls on the planet? Shit must be contagious, I never would have thought!
I can help Christopher be accepted when he is ready to transition.
Hold on, I have the loony bin on the other line.
I have a genetic responsibility to be there when Christopher decides this penis thing isnt for him.
WTH are you even talking about. Genetic reponsibility, someone needs to take your dictionary away. And while we are on responsibility, Im tired of going to the Michigan sex offenders website to locate an address for you, so that I have somewhere to mail these Doctor bills that you are supposed to be paying half of.
Well Greg, glad you shared! I can sleep much better knowing you are out there on the streets.
I think you were such a failure as a man, that you were ashamed of yourself. So, in the attempt to escape the embarrassment or who and what you are, you decided to try this girl thing.
Just keep in mind that when you have failed as a woman as well, WHATCHYA GOT LEFT???
Time is precious to me, but what the hell! I let him call me last night and spill his guts.
To bring you up to speed, Greg got locked up for trying to get romanitcally involved with an undercover cop posing as a minor. He met this cop in a chat room called, "Older men for pre-teens". I wont even comment here, but really WTF?!?
So, last night I kept my mouth shut and my ears open, by frantically writing down his every word, so below is his statements, and my thoughts on each.
*My mom never loved my Dad, she stayed with him for my sake as a kid.
Uhm, why didnt she leave him after you were grown, instead of staying with him for 43 years of marriage?
*My Dad was wonderful in the public's eye, but he didnt know how to be a Dad or Husband.
No thoughts here.
In kindergarden, I know I was a girl, because I wanted patent leather Mary Janes really bad.
No thoughts here.
When I was 8 and in therapy, I stood up during a session with Dr. McQ and my Dad, and blurted out. "Im really a girl!" The doctor said, "Let's deal with that later." My Dad said, "No son of mine is going to be a girl," and he left the room.
This scenario doesnt make sense, even a little.
When I got locked up I had alot of time to think, so I decided that it was time to come out and let the world know Im a girl.
When you got locked up I could tell the only thing you were thinking about was how to make your mother and I believe you were framed.
When I went to my court ordered therapy, I asked to speak with my therapist after a session, he took me out in the hall to hear what I had to say. I told him I was supposed to be a girl. The therapist got a cheshire cat grin on his face, and said "It's about time." I knew from the first session you were supposed to be a girl." You are finally on the road to recovery!
I can guarantee that never went down. That is fucking insane, and thats all I have to say about that.
Because I am no longer a man, I dont have to be the breadwinner.
Ok, you do however have to pay child support. And since your ass is single, you may want to rethink that whole breadwinner thing if you want to eat.
There was nothing more I could have offered my kids when I got locked up, they were basically raised. That is why Im ok that they are all in foster care.
Your kids were 5, 11, 11, and 12, definetly ready to support themselves and be productive members of society!
In the womb I had too much dopemine, and then when I was put on haldol at age 8-18and this made me unaware of what was going on. Iam a rare case, that made me female with male genitals.
Other than being fuck crazy, you obviously have too much free time on your hands, and one hell of an imagination.
I am going through a 2nd puberty.
Oh, is that what it is, I thought it was a mid life crisis and an identiy crisis all rolled into one.
They recently discovered a partially developed uterus attached to one of my testicles.
Oh wow, recently they found this? Like the other day? Like when you have no money and no medical coverage, and had to fraudulently file your taxes to pay for your boobies? Not when you had MRIs, and scans and all that back when you used to frequent the ER trying to figure out why your leg was turning black? Or why you constantly bled out the backside.
Iam a good parent, I just made a bad choice.
No Greg, you are a bad parent whose life is built on lies and bad choices.
I think Christopher has a sexual identity problem.
Sorry Greg Im not going to turn my 11 year old over to you so that you can have a companion in all of this.
All of my children are predisposed to being girls.
Uhm ok. Since you have 3 daughters and you think you are a girl, and like there are alot of girls on the planet? Shit must be contagious, I never would have thought!
I can help Christopher be accepted when he is ready to transition.
Hold on, I have the loony bin on the other line.
I have a genetic responsibility to be there when Christopher decides this penis thing isnt for him.
WTH are you even talking about. Genetic reponsibility, someone needs to take your dictionary away. And while we are on responsibility, Im tired of going to the Michigan sex offenders website to locate an address for you, so that I have somewhere to mail these Doctor bills that you are supposed to be paying half of.
Well Greg, glad you shared! I can sleep much better knowing you are out there on the streets.
I think you were such a failure as a man, that you were ashamed of yourself. So, in the attempt to escape the embarrassment or who and what you are, you decided to try this girl thing.
Just keep in mind that when you have failed as a woman as well, WHATCHYA GOT LEFT???
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Loss..
Exactly one month ago today, my mother, Linda lost her battle with breast cancer. I still cant believe she is gone.
I never thought that my Mom would go before my father, and now that reality has smacked me in the face. I guess what makes it harder is that I watched her die. I saw her take her last breath, I was in the room when they disconnected the life support. (actually about 20 of us were there. I had expected it to be like in the movies, life support is disconnected and a little bald doctor with a clip board comes in and pronounces her. It didnt happen that way, I watched my mother literally fade away over the course of about 7 hours. I remember needing to get out of the room when the bald man with the clipboard never showed up. I remember busting out the double doors of the waiting are at Ross Heart, and I not being able to breath. I remember a waiting room full of people I didnt know, none of them had faces. I remember wanting to go into the bathroom and beat the wall. I remember an older lady, asking me If I had just gotten bad news, and she wanted to pray with me. I told her no thanks. I should have let her pray.
So a month later and every day is the same, I wake up, and my first thought is, "I can't believe she is gone." I "zombie" through the rest of my day, I cry a few tears in bed, I wake up and do it over again.
I keep replaying the last few months in my head. Her doctor found a lump, they did a biopsy and decided due to size it was stage 2. It had not gone to her lymph system. Her doctor recommended chemo and radiation. She sailed through chemo, and had just finished radiation, when exhaustion and a dry cough set in. Everyone told her that she was at the end of her treatments and it happens to everyone. The cough was explained away as a radiation beam probably hit you lung.
She was admitted to Galion Hopsital with a potassium level of 1.5. They told her that had to be a tainted reading, no ones is that low. They did no checks on her heart. They said she had pnueumonia, and they put her on anitbiotics. This started to send her liver readings all over the place, and after pumping her full of medicine and liquid, (she gained 40 lbs in the week she was there), they transfered her to James Cancer, because they didnt know what else to do with her. James continued to treat her for pneumonia, and about 4 days into her stay, they decided to do an heart funtion test. It was then discovered that her heart was only pumping at %10 and at that time she was transfered to Ross Heart. After about 2 weeks of testing they decided the best treatment would be to install what is called an LVAD into her heart, she was terminal, but people with the VAD go on to live normal, full lives. Sure, she would have an electrical cord coming out of her belly, and would need to be plugged into either the wall or a battery pack at all times, but she would be alive.
She came through the surgery ok, and was on the mend. I visted with her on a saturday evening. She talked, and talked. She was so happy to see us. We brought her new slippers. She had me give her a manicure, and we filled those little throw up pans they give you in the emergency room with warm soapy water so she could soak. We stayed about 3 hours, talking and laughing. The next day we had planned a little birthday celebration for My brother and I. She felt bad that we both had a birthday in April, and she was sick. The next morning my Dad called and said my Mom was really tired and we should let her rest, so we would postponed that get together to the following weekend. She had a massive stroke that night, and never regained came back to us. So, instead of a birthday celebration our family met in a funeral home and celebrated her life instead.
I miss you more than you could possibly know, Mom. I know that I will get through this!
Save me a seat!
Nichole
I never thought that my Mom would go before my father, and now that reality has smacked me in the face. I guess what makes it harder is that I watched her die. I saw her take her last breath, I was in the room when they disconnected the life support. (actually about 20 of us were there. I had expected it to be like in the movies, life support is disconnected and a little bald doctor with a clip board comes in and pronounces her. It didnt happen that way, I watched my mother literally fade away over the course of about 7 hours. I remember needing to get out of the room when the bald man with the clipboard never showed up. I remember busting out the double doors of the waiting are at Ross Heart, and I not being able to breath. I remember a waiting room full of people I didnt know, none of them had faces. I remember wanting to go into the bathroom and beat the wall. I remember an older lady, asking me If I had just gotten bad news, and she wanted to pray with me. I told her no thanks. I should have let her pray.
So a month later and every day is the same, I wake up, and my first thought is, "I can't believe she is gone." I "zombie" through the rest of my day, I cry a few tears in bed, I wake up and do it over again.
I keep replaying the last few months in my head. Her doctor found a lump, they did a biopsy and decided due to size it was stage 2. It had not gone to her lymph system. Her doctor recommended chemo and radiation. She sailed through chemo, and had just finished radiation, when exhaustion and a dry cough set in. Everyone told her that she was at the end of her treatments and it happens to everyone. The cough was explained away as a radiation beam probably hit you lung.
She was admitted to Galion Hopsital with a potassium level of 1.5. They told her that had to be a tainted reading, no ones is that low. They did no checks on her heart. They said she had pnueumonia, and they put her on anitbiotics. This started to send her liver readings all over the place, and after pumping her full of medicine and liquid, (she gained 40 lbs in the week she was there), they transfered her to James Cancer, because they didnt know what else to do with her. James continued to treat her for pneumonia, and about 4 days into her stay, they decided to do an heart funtion test. It was then discovered that her heart was only pumping at %10 and at that time she was transfered to Ross Heart. After about 2 weeks of testing they decided the best treatment would be to install what is called an LVAD into her heart, she was terminal, but people with the VAD go on to live normal, full lives. Sure, she would have an electrical cord coming out of her belly, and would need to be plugged into either the wall or a battery pack at all times, but she would be alive.
She came through the surgery ok, and was on the mend. I visted with her on a saturday evening. She talked, and talked. She was so happy to see us. We brought her new slippers. She had me give her a manicure, and we filled those little throw up pans they give you in the emergency room with warm soapy water so she could soak. We stayed about 3 hours, talking and laughing. The next day we had planned a little birthday celebration for My brother and I. She felt bad that we both had a birthday in April, and she was sick. The next morning my Dad called and said my Mom was really tired and we should let her rest, so we would postponed that get together to the following weekend. She had a massive stroke that night, and never regained came back to us. So, instead of a birthday celebration our family met in a funeral home and celebrated her life instead.
I miss you more than you could possibly know, Mom. I know that I will get through this!
Save me a seat!
Nichole
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