That feeling of...

I wrote this on May 14. Never got around to publish it until today. Many things have happened since. So here it is raw as I wrote it. I remember I was interrupted by an acquaintance deciding to pay me a visit. I didn't want to come back and read it for a long time, because the hurt was still too raw.
Here it is.

It never ceases to amaze me how reluctant are people to make their life better because of their ego. How fast they fall into mediocrity because they aren't able to fight for a better life. Not only that, they actually fight the change for the good. They fight it, they reject it, they despise it. If they'd put the same passion into the change for the good, they'd be so far better than they are. But their ego wouldn't be stroked until much, much later and after they'd put a lot of work into it.

Anyway. Finding myself alone again got me back into that nagging feeling that this isn't the right world. The right reality for me. When I was in the relationship with J. the feeling was dampened by the happiness (yes, he did make me happy for a couple of years) and then by the efforts to understand what was going on with him. But now I'm back. The feeling is very weird and very obscure. It's not just about the fact that I find myself even worse than I was before him, in terms of health and income, and of course, 4 1/2 years older. No. It isn't like I should be better looking, with a better income, or doing something else, like promoting my art or my webdesign skills, or having a family and kids, or you name it. No. It's like the very fabric of reality is wrong. The Earth, the sky, the society, everything. Like I shouldn't be here but somewhere else. I had this feeling before, and I think it belongs in the old question "why?" that plagued my youth. The existentialist "why? Why do we exist? Why does the Universe exist?" I was plagued with that when I was around 20 - maybe a great part of it was induced by the fact that I was reading a lot of philosophy, from the ancient Vedes and Greek philosophers to Schopenhauer, Nietzsche and Kant. That was the time when I really fell into a very deep depression. Practically the only time in my life. I remember my father trying to help me, and when I shot my questions to him, he put his hands in his pockets, went to the open window and stared outside for what seemed like an eternity. Then he just turned, looked at me with tears in his eyes and left the room. That was when I understood that behind the man who was an esteemed professor, with a successful career, a beautiful house, a beautiful wife and beautiful children, it was not the plain addiction that made him drink. Yes, my father was an alcoholic. But I understood then why he was drinking. That was his answer to those questions. Actually his lack of answer. The refuge of not having to think to those questions that never will be answered. And that is when I snapped out of my depression. I realized that I have to find a way to go on without looking for the refuge of the coward. Yes, that was also the time when I lost the respect I had for my father. It was hard, and I didn't love him less, because when we really love someone we love them no matter their faults. But I couldn't respect someone who had chosen the way of the coward.

In time I dealt with not thinking of those questions by creating things. And also by throwing myself in a world of partying and traveling and just "having a good ole time". And even if the crowd I was partying with was very educated and very intelligent - think that every party would end up with us sitting on the floor in a circle, each with their drinks, discussing philosophy, literature, history, you name it - I still felt alone, and my feeble attempts to try and see if others ever were bothered by this were in vain.

May in Oklahoma

We had yesterday one of the Oklahoma storms that keep you on your toes for hours... with rotation and wall clouds dropping down then getting sucked up again.

...and then this morning I found a profusion of roses bloomed in the garden... like trying to tell me "yes, look at the beauty... there is ugliness, and pain, and despair, but still the roses will bloom and beauty will be around you".

It's been almost a year

.. since I have last blogged. I think I said before, I am really bad about putting down in writing my thoughts. The reasons are several: I'm coming from a secretive spiritual tradition, in which we don't put much in writing because people who aren't supposed to have that specific knowledge might read; and because I was never truly comfortable to open myself to others. Most of the time, because those others wouldn't understand my thoughts. A few times because when I opened up, what I talked about was used against me. So, yeah, quite important reasons.

Anyway. Many things have happened.

My Father died.

My beloved, after treating me badly for months, declared he didn't want to be together anymore. What followed was a wave of him treating me absolutely horrible, refusing to buy even food for me, at a time when I had not a penny. The only thing was that he loaned me the money to go to Romania to at least be there for my father's 6 weeks remembrance rites. I couldn't go for the funeral, all of North America was under ice.

And then once I got there, I discovered that my own mother has lied to me for years. That she had donated all their wealth to my sister (still living in Romania) and that when I was battling cancer she was busy fixing all necessary paperwork to make sure my sister gets everything. And then turning around and asking me for money because "she didn't have money to pay even the utility bills".

Then they finally approved my disability claim. But they didn't approve the SSI. So I am supposed to live on $255 a month. How exactly I don't know, considering the SSI also determines eligibility for Medicaid, so no SSI no Medicaid; that means I won't be able to go to the doctors ir buy my medication.

To top it all, my car, that J. has messed up last year when he let it run overnight and - he says - blew a head gasket, and he doesn't want to fix it because "it's a 17 years old car and he won't waste his time on it". So I can't go anywhere. I can't go apply for food stamps. I can't go appeal the SSI denial decision.

Why the fuck am I still alive?

The Finger of God was actually the whole fist

Yeah, I know, I'm a terrible blogger. I let not just days but sometimes even weeks to go by before I post. I'll never be one of those famous bloggers that change the world and blablabla.

Guess what? I just don't care.

Anyway. I live in Oklahoma. We had horrendous weather in the last couple of weeks. Dozens of people died. They sometimes call powerful tornadoes "The Finger of God". How can you call that a tornado that was 2.6 miles wide? That is not a finger, dude, that is fist-size. Even butt-size.

And apparently that thing went from half a mile to 2.6 miles wide in about 30 seconds. Thus, even experienced storm chasers like Tim Samaras got caught unaware and lost their lives. It had multiple vortices.

In one word, it was scary.

I do remember I woke up with bad feelings about weather. I usually don't, even if the forecast is nasty. I know there will be some tornadoes somewhere, but there's that inner little - I don't know, angel, genie, leprechaun - that tells me "it's ok, it won't hit you".

Not this time folks. I woke up with a sense of dread. I had it all day long. And when around 5 pm the storms started forming, I saw all 4 of them supercells and I told the Wild Wolf "now if these things collide it's going to be thick". And they collided, 10 minutes later.

Then I looked again, to the radar, to the TV screen, back to my monitor to various radars, back to the TV screen, and  I got up, got to the TV, pointed with my finger to the screen and told the Wild Wolf "see this rotation near Hinton? This is going to spawn a tornado. And it's going to come straight for us. And it's going to be nasty"

2 minutes later the tornado was born. 5 minutes later it was 0.5 miles wide. Projected path straight to us. But it was a slow mover, and wouldn't reach us before about an hour and a half. So I said "we need to get out of here".

We do not have a storm shelter, due to the various irrational code of ordinances regulations of Midwest City. The same city that about 5 years ago got FEMA grants to build public shelters, and then on January 31st, 2013, closed them. The house is full brick, but I knew it wouldn't last through an EF5.

So we got a blanket, a small pillow, dog food, water, his laptop, got the dogs and off we went. We beat everybody else, but we made the mistake to stop in Norman at a McDonald too much so the crowd caught up with us, and the next 2 hours were spent driving at a snail pace, with half the sky behind us ink-jet black, and on the car radio (actually it was the KFOR TV channel) stories of many tornadoes spawning and pulling back up in the meantime. Finally there was nowhere else to go, and it was about 4 hours after we left the house and the coming of the night had made all storms more tame (if you can call THAT tame) - as in no more tornadoes. So we decided to wait it out and stop and let the storms pass over us. It took about an hour. Winds were probably around 60 mph. heavy rain and little hail, but mostly heavy rain. Then we started to get back home. Took us another couple of hours but we were lucky that none of the roads were really flooded. We got home close to midnight.

And this is the story of that day.

What happened to my garden?

Sigh. Some other day. I'm still very pissed about it.

Rambling

I know. My blog will never be one of those successful blogs. Why? Because my blog is like my life: I have too many interests. People do not like to read one paragraph about cooking then suddenly jump to watercolor painting techniques, then in the next paragraph talk about global warming and the effect on the Great Plains tornado season.

I know that for a successful blog, one needs to stick to one subject (or at least one category of subjects) and beat that baby until it doesn't move. And the next day, when it starts showing signs it might be breathing again, beat a little bit more on it.

Well, I can't. My life doesn't revolve around one thing, it revolves around many. I am interested in the latest metaphysical discoveries, in quantum theories, in ghost stories, in successful "green" gardening (that doesn't sound right but that's the word of the day), in one of a kind jewelry making, in one of a kind sculpture, in making tribal artifacts, in health and nutrition, and many more things.

That is not to say that I am some kind of "Jack of all trades and master of none". The areas that I am really involved in, areas that bring me the meager money I make, put food on my table or are very important interests of mine, I do master them. I am, though, interested in many other fields and subjects in which I am not a master of, but I like to learn more. And days are always too short. Sometimes even nights are too short.

So, getting back to my interests.

1. I am very very behind in my gardening. Not my fault. Last year we had a very mild winter, and by the 1st of April I already had things blooming in my garden and my tomatoes were at least 7" tall. I DID, though, have to battle all spring pesky earwigs and pill-bugs trying to devour all my seedlings - just because the winter had been too mild and there wasn't enough freeze to kill off most of the bugs.

THIS winter though doesn't want to let go. A few days ago we had the normal Spring severe-thunderstorms that were followed by... freezing rain and a temperature of 21F. On April 17 and 18. Got better after, but then next week, in three days from now, there will be a night low of ... 34F. So I am still busy moving seedling trays in during the night and out during the day, and a few more plants get moved in during the nights of freezing or close to freezing temps. And that doesn't happen just because they're still in pots (and they don't have the benefit of being in the ground and thus being more insulated so they'd withstand the frost) because I was too lazy to shovel the dirt and make new flower and veggie beds. No. I COULDN'T shovel as, due to so much rain, the ground out there is mud. Pure mud. Where there is grass, when you walk, it squishes under your feet, and you have the feeling that you're walking in a swamp, and you will start sinking soon.

So, yeah, very behind in my gardening. I had planned my seeds and plant deliveries for a normal spring. Which obviously this one isn't.

2. I DID manage to catch up on most of my pendant-making. I do have a few necklaces that are still in the stage of beads (that is, need to be put together) but I did get caught up on the Dragon's Eye pendants and mostly on the Little Goddesses pendants. I was severely out of merchandise to sell and people kept requesting them.

Aren't they pretty? Of course, these are not all that I have made, but you get an idea. I did find a new way to apply mettalic powders on certain colors of the clay, and I love the effect.

3. I seem to not be able to catch up on my spirit dolls and on my sculptures. No matter what I do, it seems that as soon as I make one it sells and there's someone else wanting one, so I never have time to make more. Don't get me wrong, I shouldn't complain about my stuff selling, right? The issue is that I have a few new ideas, that I don't seem to manage to bring to life because I keep making the same styles over and over (of course, never looking the same) because people like the "Garden Guardian" or the "Shamaness" or the "Yemaya" or "Kuan Yin". You get the picture.

4. I'm slowly catching up on my new websites. Probably that is the reason why I didn't write too much in the blog lately, but when you write article after article after article, by the end of the day you're kind of... spent.

5. Health is ok. Just ok. I got new XRays to see how my neck is actually doing (PcP ordered several views) and I'll get the result next week. ObGyn declared that my ovarian cyst didn't change in a year and 4 ultrasounds so, unless I start hurting, he will stop the follow-up for now. The neurologist said that my head CT scan, B12 and folate levels all came back normal, so the only thing that causes my memory issues is either the thyroid messing up (PcP ordered bloodwork) or, simply, still long-term side effect of chemotherapy. I saw the Great Poobah two days ago and he said the latest research shows that chemo-brain doesn't go away in two years, but in 4-5 years so I am in normal levels. Phew.

6. I didn't paint in ages.

7. There's more, but some other time. Yes, I wrote articles today.

And to bring some smiles to you, I discovered this website that makes me laugh. Hard.

http://joyreactor.com/

It's a spring a-coming

Between society's squabbles, disinterested doctors, political muscle-showing, Easter sales and noisy neighbors, insidiously and creeping up step by step, the spring finally made it's way here.

I waited for Her, I begged for Her to come faster, and finally, She's here.

Not a moment too soon. I was getting so tired of winter. Don't get me wrong, I do like winter. I just don't like Oklahoma winter. For me winter has to happen with thick white blankets of snow, that get even thicker, slowly, from snowflakes dancing lazily in the air. The house is warm, there is always hot tea on the table and some kind of baked heaven (scones, muffins, you take your pick) and there are dogs sleeping near the fireplace, a cat purring in someone's lap, and a cinnamon stick's wisp of smoke permeates the air. And you get your warm clothing on, and go outside and walk in the silence of the winter, silence broken only by the small crunching noise of your steps in the snow and by the muffled thud of a bank of snow falling from a tree branch. The air is crisp and you feel it cleansing your lungs, and it brings on rosy cheeks and shiny eyes.

That is MY winter.

Oklahoma winter? A chill that barely goes down to freezing level - and that only after the temperature warms up enough to trick a few plants into thinking that the winter is over. Wind that blows dust everywhere and makes things look as desolate as a fallout movie. And the chance of getting an ice storm, that coats everything in one or two inches of ice, and kills trees. and maybe, just maybe, an inch or two of snow, once a winter or two or three, that halts everything in the city, makes everybody act like it's the end of the world, stops the power and makes everybody miserable.

But now, it's over. and even if spring in Oklahoma usually equates with supercell storms spawning tornado after tornado, one can't be unmoved by the revival of vegetation.

Of course, both me and the Wild Wolf have been busy - he's building fences and gates, and I'm making new flower beds, for the little seedlings that I have started inside to be transplanted to in two or three weeks. I've worked like crazy this past week, of course I popped pain-killers all day long, not just to be able to work in the garden but also because the weather was kind of "I'm going to be nice and warm, but I'm going to spawn some rain when you least expect it", so my poor body felt it in the surgery scars, in the joints, and in the nerve-damaged extremities. But still, I went on, and every night I had that "good sore" feeling before falling asleep, that soreness in the muscles that tells you that you have worked your body in a good way. A huge difference from the chronic pain I am used to.

Here's a bit of what we've done, but more was done since I took these photos a few days ago.

Today is Sunday, so besides going out to shop a little, there won't be much I will be doing. I EARNED a day of rest.

And this made me LOL. Hard.

The rise and fall of humane feelings

The 20th century has seen the emergence and peak of all the "humane" qualities: human rights, love and respect thy neighbour, spiritual development, understanding, etc. I think honestly that the big shove was done by the hippy movement, as much as it was criticized and put down.

The 21st century seems to be characterized by the disappearance of all these humane qualities. The struggle for power, the lawsuits, the desperate desire to accumulate - doesn't really matter what, power, money, cats, collections of magazines, peace of mind - has brought down and is smothering the humane qualities.

What brought this up? This brought this up

Resident of Calif. facility dies after nurse refuses to do CPR due to policy

 To be very honest when I first read it it reminded me of my last place of work. Same type of facility, independent housing for seniors. They had the same policy. When I got hired I did sign that I was made aware that if any of the residents would pass out, fall, or whatever, I wasn't allowed to give them any help. I signed while knowing with certainty that I wouldn't abide. If this place was at least similar to the one I used to work at, it makes me shudder. Don't get me wrong, it was a nice place, funded mostly by charity, the apartments (well, more like studios most of them) very nice, with two libraries, two lounges, game room, fitness room, cafeteria, looked pretty much like a 4-5 stars hotel. But it made me think of a prison nevertheless. The Director and upper staff (I was considered upper staff too but I never "bonded" I guess) were permanently worried that residents would get in any way connected to the outside world. Place was locked after 6 pm and during the week-ends. Staff wasn't allowed to be in any way "buddy" style with the residents. Just "hello" and "how are you". Was really hard for me not to - for one, due to the nature of my work (I was Activities Director) and for two - I just LOVE elderly people. I find them fascinating and I would spend days listening to them. I think they're fun, interesting, witty and a pleasure to have around. So.. yeah

But back to the article. How is it even possible? How can it be required of people to stand and do nothing when someone else might be dying? How is it possible that A NURSE would not give CPR? Nurses don't have any kind of oath like the doctors have Hippocrates' oath? Not only that, but legally, for example, I know that Oklahoma law provides that "any person who in good faith renders or attempts to render emergency care consisting of artificial respiration, restoration of breathing, or preventing or retarding the loss of blood, or aiding or restoring heart action or circulation of blood to the victim or victims of an accident or emergency, wherever required, shall not be liable for any civil damages as a result of any acts or omissions by such person in rendering the emergency care. " (Good Samaritan Act, Title 76); I would presume that al states have that type of provision in their statutes. Also, for a medically licensed person, withholding care is a crime. How was all this possible?

The best way of waking up....

No, not Folgers in your cup (well that is later).

The best way of waking up is having sudden killer leg cramps in your calves. Both of them. So bad that when you jump out of bed so you can walk and get them gone you fall right back on your ass and your boyfriend has to jump up from sleep (I WAS, to my shame, yelping like a puppy who was left alone) and hold me so I could walk. They (the cramps) were gone after 4 steps (two each foot). I did NOT need to go back to bed after that.

So I decided it was 7:15 after all, even if it was a Saturday morning. I went and got a cup of coffee and bleary eyed started surfing my favorite blogs - this has become a hobby lately, but more about that later.

Fast forward an hour. I'm still fuzzy-minded. I go for a second cup of coffee.

Now, I drink instant. I have two jars, one is a decaf (Folgers) and one is a regular (Nescafe).

Years ago when I was still severely hyperthyroid and on Metoprolol (for rapid heart beat) my endo said "no more caffeine". It was hard, as my blood pressure is normally from 100 to 110 over 64 to 72. It used to be even lower so drinking a pot of coffee a day was a norm for me. Metoprolol is a blood pressure medicine. Also used as a betablocker in thyroid-induced tachycardia. But you can't take it for reducing your heart rate without it making your blood pressure plummet. So I was drinking a cup of coffee in the morning. Endo said no more. So for the following few years I had 8 oz of liquid ready to drink so I can get out of bed without falling on my face.

I'm not on Metoprolol anymore so I started drinking a little coffee again. The first cup is regular. The next ones are decaf.

I realize that in my fuzzy-mindedness I had grabbed the decaf for my first cup. Obviously, the decaf jar is in the middle of the counter, the regular hidden behind other stuff.

So, let me sweep the fuzzes. Got more to say. Also need more calcium, obviously. The leg cramps always mean I need more calcium, for me.

Earthquake

There was a "relatively" small earthquake here about an hour ago. USGS says 3.5, local GS says 4.0. Honestly, it felt more like 4 than 3.5. A strong jolt, NS direction, with a vertical component.

I do suffer of PTSD from earthquakes. The first one I experienced I was a few days shy of my 16th birthday. It was a big one, over 7 on Richter - the reports even after so many years put it anywhere between 7.2 and 7.5 or even higher. It was also a very long one, lasting almost a minute. I still remember, it was at 9:22 pm, and there was a Bulgarian movie on TV. I forgot the name of the movie. I had never before experienced such a thing as an earthquake. For a 16 year old it is quite a trauma. Our building didn't have any major damages, only broken windows and some cracked plaster, but in the city there were over 40 collapsed buildings and almost 1600 people died that night and the following nights, crushed under the tons of debris, before rescuers could reach them. Many died of exposure (it was a cold March), of hunger and mostly of thirst.

Then there were a good number of earthquakes after that, 6.8 6.5 6.2 5.8 6.4 and so on.

I did live through quite a number of things in my life. One of those curses "may you live in interesting times".

Practically it started with that earthquake. Then there were the following ones. Floods. An anti-communist revolution to which I was an active participant - talk about gunshots and wounded and dead people. A serious car crash that left me in a 5 days 3rd degree coma. Divorce and abandonment when I was barely able to keep myself alive through severe thyrotoxicosis with a heart rate of over 130 at rest, and two thyroid storms with sinus tachycardia of over 200 bpm. Then many tornado outbreaks. A breast cancer journey.

I do have PTSD. the slightest earth jolt brings me to an unbelievable state of anxiety. When I was still in my homeland I would pray for hours before going to sleep, afraid an earthquake would happen in the night and I would wake up buried under tons of debris, slowly suffocating. Oh yes, I also have PTSD about elevators - when I was around 8 years old I was in one that fell.

So anyway. May you NOT live in interesting times.

When it doesn't rain, it pours.

Long winter. Well, it WAS very sunny and clear sky on February 2nd, so we will have apparently to wait for the 6 weeks of winter before spring ever shows up.

There was a "winter storm" two weeks ago. Then another one this last week. Then another one coming Monday.

My seeds are waiting to be planted. I should and will start on them next week. Just need to finish the jewelry I'm working on so the table in the kitchen will be free to receive the planters. And there will be A LOT of planters. Towards the end of the next week I will also plant outside the seeds that are supposed to grow wild, and not "babied".

I wish the Wild Wolf was less sleepy. There is so much to work on and most of it I can't do it myself. I told him today - if this is the case, then I guess we will never be able to have a house with some land and a garden. Those require work. Lots of work. Not laying around on couches reading books when there's stuff to be done.

Anyway. Got the cervical spine xray report today. Not only I have two intervertebral disks that are trying to play a disappearing act on me but two vertebrae (not the ones with the missing disks) are slipped forward. Only a grade 1 slippage but still, it's not nice as the spinal canal is narrowed. The  Spine and Pain Management dr. at the last visit said that I should think about a nerve blocking shot. That it might at least get rid of the pain between and down my shoulderblades.

Anyway. I know that this means sometimes in the future I will have to have spinal fusion and that I am not supposed to be in any kind of activity that involves jumping or fast head movements.

I made a lot of dragon's eye pendants - I'll post some photos later. Now to work on Goddess pendants.

Rather pissed at the Atkins diet, my endocrinologist, and life in general. who in the world heard of GAINING weight while on Atkins diet? I did a lot of research and didn't find a thing. And I keep telling her that probably for my body's metabolism, I am hypothyroid now. She keeps insisting I am still hyperthyroid because my TSH is still too low even if my FreeT3 and FreeT4 are normal. I really really need to convince her to check my pituitary. I am sure that that is the culprit, and if they find that they will finally give me the thyroid hormone pills. I shouldn't have done the thyroid radiation. Grrr.

Anyway. I'll be back on a sunny day. Which might not happen before the end of next week.

Meanwhile, have some fun. Isn't this the most adorable thing?

Kuan Yin

A lady ordered last evening on Etsy a Kuan Yin spirit doll. So, even if I was going to do nothing else but websites today, I will have to work on the doll first. I am pretty happy with what I have in the house, except for silk for her kimono. I need to go to Hancock's tomorrow and look for a thin silk with small prints. Hopefully black. I was thinking initially to get white, but then I thought - the lady reads Tarot at fairs, and that is why she wants the spirit doll for, and if I make her dress white, then it will get dirty very fast. I will have to get her veil white anyway, but I will find a way to make it "pinnable" so it can be removed and washed. I found a beautiful old ear-ring that I will use for her tiara, and another one that will work beautifully on her chest above the kimono sash. Still pondering if I should make her feet seen under the kimono or not. These dolls only have the head and the hands (if they have hands) made out of polymer clay, the rest is fabric and all kinds of findings and special gemstones. I had to make hands for Kuan Yin, for her holding the lotus flower and the jug. I will put the hands on special wire so they can be semi-poseable. when I go to Hancock's tomorrow I need to get in the Michaels store as well, they are closing and they have a whole bunch of sales. I will get definitely some more polymer clay and wooden bases for dolls (I really ran out of those, this is the last one I have).

Here's what is done of the Kuan Yin spirit doll for now. She will have mistletoe inside her clothing as well, to help with finding wisdom and good advice.

The lotus, of course, is also made of polymer clay. I'm quite satisfied how it came up.

Otherwise, I'm a little pissed. I got stuck again at the 180 lbs mark, even with the Atkins diet. I do not intend to do that today, but next week I intend to have at least 3 days of very light eating, and eating only the protein part with very little carbs, way below the 20g allowed in induction. Wednesday I should be done with two weeks, but I think I will try the third week as well, or at least a few more days of induction before going to OWL.

I have a lot more to write, hopefully tomorrow. Today I am a little harassed with everything I need to finish.

Dream visit

What I actually forgot to write. I had a very, very interesting experience. Uplifting, yes, phenomenal, and very interesting.

Friday evening, as I was getting ready to go to bed - after a quite long "evening", I had one of my bouts of insomnia so I didn't get to crush in bed until a little bit after 3 am - I felt a presence. Hard to describe. A beautiful, beautiful presence, and I just felt happy. And as I laid in bed, with my eyes closed, I somehow "heard" (well, not physically heard, again, hard to describe, I heard in my mind if you want to call it that way) a delightful sound like a carillon (those ancient music boxes). Instantly in my mind came my garden, the way it looks in summer, and on that image, started to superimpose flowers. Not just flowers in a flower bed, but it was like someone was pouring flowers all around me, and those flowers were like sprouting from her hands. And I smelled those flowers (again, in my mind). They were beautiful, colored flowers. And I had this wonderful feeling of happiness. No, I didn't take any drugs to cause me hallucinations.

The feeling hadn't left me since. It actually feels like back in the late '90s, when I loved the whole world and everything I desired was happening. Maybe that was my Guardian Angel. Maybe it was a fairy. I don't know. What I know is that it's back and I'm happy (this time for real) again and looking forward to miracles to happen.

Can't wait for spring

Ok, winter is starting to get on my nerves. I feel so cooped up it's not even funny.

Yes, I have news. I started the Atkins diet. Tomorrow morning will be one week since I started it, so I'm still in what is called the "induction phase". Good news: as of this morning I lost 6 lbs. We'll see how much the scale shows tomorrow morning. Not bad for the induction phase. I know that the average is 3-4 lbs per week in the induction phase, but I also know some people lost up to 13 lbs a week. I am happy with my 6 (hopefully 7 by tomorrow morning) lbs. I can't wait to finally break under the dreaded 180. and keep losing. It will be a hard battle, as my plan is to get back to 120. I don't even dream to get back to my (once) normal 105-107.Even 120 will mean that I would have lost 30% of my body weight. And hopefully most of the pain that I have in my knees and my hips will go away. I am so tired of being so fat, of not being me.

I can tell you though that compared to other diets, Atkins is very feasible. For one, you don't go hungry. I guess that is the most important thing. For two, you can even eat sweet stuff (whatever is made with eggs, butter and cream cheese and using Splenda sweetener). Not that you have a lot of variation there, but hey! you're not going hungry. And I presume that after a while meat meat meat eggs eggs eggs cheese cheese cheese will be quite boring and won't give you much of an appetite. I wonder if the touted "appetite curbing" that happens during Atkins is not so much related to ketosis but to the fact that you just get fed up with meat, cheese and eggs. True, there are some veggies there, but only a few and after a while you get fed up with those too. Oh well. Did I mention that you never go hungry?

Anyway - I had a load of stuff to do and still didn't finish it. Two websites (I did one), prepare merchandise for one fair (that I've attended this past week and I didn't make everything I was planning to), prepare my documentation for SSD and SSI, prepare merchandise for an "art market" fair I will be attending on the 9th of February (I did do some things for that, but still need to be working), get a package ready for my Mom,  prepare more Tree of Life creams (done that), continue my medical transcription classes (nope didn't get there) and in between clean the house (hey, I started doing that!), do laundry (done, but it's like it never ends) and prepare meals. It is so frustrating, it seems like days are not even a quarter of what they used to be, in terms of time. Schumann resonance. I hate Schumann resonance. You don't know what that is? Here's some information. That is why time goes by so fast. Irritating.

Anyway, the world seems to get more and more crazy. More shootings, tornadoes in January (well, that happened before though), more on immigration. To be very honest, being an immigrant myself - a legal one - I do not have too much pity on the illegals. I do not think that they need to receive so many handouts and then complain that authorities want to deport them. I still remember, years and years ago, when I was still a greencard holder, and was extremely ill, and my ex had abandoned me to die, I went to the SS office to file for SSI, so I could have at least a little bit of money - court had ordered him to pay me $1500 a month as temporary spousal support, and he was sending me $300, of which I had to pay utilities, eat and buy detergent, dog food, etc. But that is not the point. The point was that, at the Social Security office, I found out that I do not qualify, because even if we were separated and going through a divorce, even if we would have been divorced, I did not qualify because he was my "sponsor" and his income was well over $100k a year, and it was "deemed" into mine. I received these news with my head bend, hiding my tears, while at a nearby desk a big Mexican mama with a slew of at least 6 children, illegals, were receiving their financial aid. Until that moment, until I got so sick I could barely walk, I had worked hard and always paid my taxes. But I could not benefit from them, even if I was a legal immigrant, because the law said that the man who had gotten me so ill and abandoned me to die and was doing everything in his power that I would not have enough to survive was making too much money, no matter if I didn't see much of that, while the illegals at the nearby desk were receiving everything they needed, housing, medical care, food. Yea. I'm not that sweet on illegal immigrants.

I sure hope to be able to workout again soon. And maybe start that video with exercises for the Latissimus Dorsi breast reconstruction recovery.

Until then, aren't they adorable?

Not there yet

Well, it did sink in, but I'm not over it. I need to find my balance, my happy place. I had thought I had found it - and that helped me go through everything, but once I got another slap from life, I got thrown out of it again.

The silver lining is that the diagnosis is not idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis - the kind that gives you 5 more years to live from the time of the diagnosis, tops; it's the post-inflammatory pulmonary fibrosis, that has a little bit of a more lenient grip on you. You have a pretty good chance to make it past 5 years. By how much? I don't know. And thinking that I have been complaining of the wheezing for 2 1/2 years, that means that I had it then - your lungs don't start wheezing all of a sudden out of the blue sky. I think that what bothers me the most is the idea of suffocation. That is the one way I didn't want to go when my time comes. I'm terrified of suffocating. Back in 1991 I had double pneumonia. A very severe case of it. It took them a month almost to keep me among the living. Maybe it wasn't a month, it was only 3 weeks, but it sure seemed like 2 years. I still remember how I couldn't breathe, how my breath stank of pus. How I had not one, but two IVs that were bringing not one, not two, not three, but four different antibiotics in my blood stream, to try and fight it. and of course, being communist Romania, they didn't have oxygen, so I was fighting to breathe by myself. I remember how many times I was hallucinating because of the fever. The thin blanket I was covered with in the hospital seemed to weigh a ton, and I couldn't move it, and there were little leprechauns that could move it for me if I would bribe them. I don't remember what I had to give them as a bribe. But you get the idea.

I've been trying to snap out of it for three days now. I have a lot of things to do and don't seem to be able to pull myself together. I have to finish the Tree of Life website, to work on jewelry and sculptures and if possible, continue my online class in medical transcription. All I managed to do today was to write two articles on the website. Two. Well, I was also able to do some housekeeping, mostly laundry and some kitchen cleaning and cooking, but that was it. I am tired. I feel like I walked 100 miles pulling a millstone tied around my waist. I don't know how much of it is the chronic pain, how much is the pulmonary fibrosis or how much is me fighting depression. I do not want to get depressed. I know I sound gloomy, but I do have a lot of things planned. Depressed people don't have lots of things planned, things that are long-range, that imply that you need to be alive 2 and 3 and 5 years from now, right?

I can't wait for spring. This is how spring is - 4 years ago, my front lawn, March 8. The first butterfly of the year. Little did I know that that fall I would be wondering if I'll ever see a spring again. And here I am, almost four years later, and looking forward to spring. Because I know when spring comes I will be here, and working my garden. And planting parsley and dill specially for the caterpillars of the black swallowtail, so the butterflies would have a place to lay their eggs, and the pretty caterpillars something to munch on and grow and become butterflies. And the photo of the catterpillars thriving on the parsley, last summer.

Tadaaaa

Yes. It's post-inflammatory pulmonary fibrosis. Dr. didn't call me yet but I logged in on my clinic account and it's posted there in my chart.

The reason to wake up in the morning.

"You need a reason to wake up in the morning. And sometimes, even when you find it, life turns around and spits right in your face".

This is one of the lines of Sophia Petrillo in "the Golden Girls". For one, it is almost impossible to believe that all those vibrant women are gone, all except Betty White. For two, it's almost impossible to believe that I have watched this show almost since it started airing, and now, years and years later, I am actually almost a "Golden Girl".

But anyway, I'm rambling. Back to the point. I do have reasons to wake up in the morning. They are three. One is The Wild Wolf. One is Whisper. And one is Maya. One man and two dogs. Today Whisper decided once again that the Wild Wolf was laying on the couch not to read, but to be rubbing Whisper's belleh. So he went and stepped right on top of him, then flunked himself on his back on his chest, and demanded belly-rubs and kisses.

It took me coming with the camera to take photos to make Whisper go away. He hates the camera. I still managed to get a shot. The second shot was of the floor, Whisper was long gone.

But then life spat in my face again today. I went to get a pulmonary function test. I've been complaining for two years that I'm wheezing when I go to bed at night. I've been complaining for two years that since I had the mastectomy and the Latissimus Dorsi breast reconstruction I cannot breathe right, I feel like I'm in a tight corset. It took them two years to finally order a PLT. I'm looking at those numbers (the tech was kind enough to print the preliminary for me) and it's full of red. 80% of my pulmonary functions have red numbers. Red numbers that - combined with my other symptoms and with the last two CTs -  mean that right now I have one of the four: COPD, pulmonary fibrosis, congestive heart failure or sarcoidosis. How horrid does it sound for me to wish I have COPD? I'll guess I'll hear the diagnostic sometime this week. I hope it will be sometimes this week. One of the worst things in a cancer treatment journey is waiting for test results. Waiting for a "yes" or  "no" or a number that tells you that yes, you might have the chance of living enough years to eat some cherries from the cherry-trees you planted last spring, or no, you will not have that chance, and you hope that someone will take care of them and will not cut them down.

And today I realized I did another boo-boo (no, no honey boo-boo, I hate that child with a passion). yesterday when I was waiting for the Wild Wolf to come back from the drill I thought of making him some meat-filled pastries, European style. I got a tray of ground pork from the freezer and put it in the microwave to defrost. This evening, when the Wild Wolf went to buy from Lowes a heavy-frame hanging hook, I thought "oh, I should make him some of those delicious meat-filled pastries" and I started to go towards the fridge to get a tray of ground pork from the freezer, to thaw. Half way there I remembered that I said the same thing yesterday, and sure enough, the ground pork tray was in the microwave. I had to throw it away, of course, and didn't feel like making any kind of pastries anymore. I hate chemo-brain. I hate doctors who do not tell you the whole picture of the side effects from cancer treatment and surgeries, and watnots.

Anyway. Tomorrow I need to finish the Tree of Life website and start doing some of the online classes.

Can't wait for spring. At least I'll be working in the garden and will be able, for a while, to take my mind off things. I miss my garden.

easiest "frog-eye salad"

Get yourself some:

Acini di pepe pasta
Crushed pineapple (canned)
Mandarin slices in syrup (canned)
1 big box of instant vanilla pudding
1 bowl of whipped topping

Boil the pasta. Rinse with cold water. Drain.
Prepare the instant pudding. Mix with pasta.
Drain very very well the pineapple and mandarins. If needed chop the mandarin slices. Add to pasta and pudding.
Add the whipped topping.
Mix well.
Let sit for about half an hour.

Eat and be in Heaven.

lurchers and whippets, oh my

Things my dogs love to eat:

Carrots
Cabbage
Potatoes
Eggplant
Cauliflower
Broccoli
- all of the above, raw as well as cooked -
Bananas

The whippet's food obsessions:

Soup (preferable chicken, no noodles)
Chinese food
Mashed potatoes
Lentils

They also know how to eat from a spoon or a fork.

Yeah, I got some weird dogs. The whippet though is an oddball. We initially thought he is smarter than the average dog, so about the intelligence of a 2-3 years old. In the last year we discovered that he is way, way smarter than that.

Things he does:
- he understands complex sentences. As "you forgot your ball outside, go get it"
- when they are done with their business out, he comes and nags you to go close the back door.
- he taught himself to bow as "please" when he wants something. No idea where he got that one, but one day he suddenly started bowing "please"

Otherwise, he is the standard spoiled rotten dog, with an extra flavor of idiosyncrasies and emotional issues. The emotional issues coming from his childhood, being abused as  a puppy and then surrendered to a (thank goodness) no-kill shelter where I got him from, freshly neutered and having a bad case of Kennel Cough.

Rainy days it is

Ok, so finally last evening I got my behind in gear long enough to finish the lipbalm I've been working on. It's great, tastes great, and really really moisturizes. Filling 50 tubes with an eye-dropper was not so much fun though - but I don't want to invest yet in a specialized tool.

I also managed to do a half-assed filing and sorting of all the stacks of papework that were strewn around the house and that finally found a place to rest: about 10% of them went in the filing cabinet, about 60% went in the trashcan and the rest went in the pile of "to burn" (we don't use a shredder but prefer to use the grill outside).

And then, of course, I had to find this piece of information that totally pissed me off. Dr. Susan Love's look on Femara. Let me try and put it in layman's terms. Breast cancer is a finicky beast. And sometimes it feeds on your hormones. When it's gourmet delicacy is the estrogen your body makes, once they remove the tumor (or do a biopsy of it) the doctors want to stop your body from producing estrogen - obviously with the intent of starving any cancer cells that might want to take residence anywhere in your body.

The thing is, your body does need estrogen for a lot of other things, like bone health and heart health and skin health and others; hence women when they reach menopause and their ovaries stop producing estrogen, their hair thins, their bones become brittle, they get shortness of breath, and they start packing on weight, as the adrenal glands take over estrogen production  and store it in the body fat. You with me so far? So if you are not menopausal yet, you get this drug that is called Tamoxifen (that stops your body producing the "bad" estrogen but also carries a risk of contracting uterine cancer); if you are menopausal, then you get something called "aromatase inhibitors", of which there are three, Arimidex, Aromasin or Femara (Letrozole). These have been used only in recent years so there is not so much known about them as it is known about Tamoxifen. The only thing known is that they deplete the body of estrogen to the point that you get osteoporosis and heart conditions.

The biggest study that was done was on Femara, and it touted amazing results: 60% reduction in breast cancer recurrence. Awesome, right?

And then I find this small piece of information from Dr. Susan Love. And I see: " The study found that, overall, 2% (31) of the 1579 women taking letrozole had a recurrence compared with 4.9% (39) of the 804 women who chose to not take the drug. This is the 60 percent reduction noted in the media stories. (A reduction of 4.9% to 2% is a reduction of 60%.)" And more. Point is, it seems that the benefits aren't as great as touted, and the risks are quite considerable in terms of osteoporosis and heart health. 

I took Arimidex for 4 months. It brought my blood pressure to 160/90 from my normal 110/68. Then the oncologist gave me Aromasin. I was on it for about 8 months before getting in such a pain (joints and bone pain are a known side effect from any aromatase inhibitor) that I practically couldn't move. Ok, pause one month then go on Femara. After another 6 months on Femara, pain again, to the point that only opiates could make me function. Skip forward another 4 months - my MRIs and CT scans and Xrays show severe osteoarthritis in my hips, spine, shoulders, hands. Bone density scan shows I have lost a frigging 9.6% of bone density in my lumbar spine. And CT shows beginning of aterosclerosis. Wonderful, isn't it? I f@#$ING STOPPED IT. Stuffing my face now with Glucosamine and calcium and Vitamin D3 and lots and lots of supplements in the hopes I will be able to at least stop the degeneration process in my body that this shit has brought on.

Of course, you will say "are you crazy? why did you stop? what if the cancer returns?" Well, peeps, between living like a 90 years old in order to live an extra 3 years, and living normally even if 3 years less, I chose quality of life.

I just wish the doctors would tell you the truth, instead of touting the treatments and berating you like a child for not wanting to be a sheeple.

Not raining

.. and it won't be raining for a few days. Considering the old world "weather forecast" with onions that we did last year, this year is supposed to be dry, dry, dry.

The Wild Wolf got a new car today. Photos maybe tomorrow. He's very excited about it. Me - not so much. The darn dashboard is way too high and I don't like the way the stick moves. Car is pretty, but honestly? I prefer my old 1997 Hyundai to this new 2012 one. Maybe because we've been together for so long.

Anyway, was thinking to expand on the idea of these pendants (in the series of the ones with crocheting)

Just because the one that I did without crocheting looks so good. See?

We'll see tomorrow (actually today). Monday I wasn't able to clear even half of my to-do list due to the "let's buy a new car" waste of about 5 hours.By the time we were done, I had to take one of the dogs to the vet (follow-up appointment for her skin allergies) and then by the time I got back home I was so darn tired I wasn't able to do much. what was that saying? "Tomorrow is another day". yeah.

Oh, I did manage to put in two orders for my garden for this year. Plum trees, elderberry trees, some muscadine vines, and lots of vegetable seeds - well and some flowers. Garden looks so sad now, and I can't believe there are still leaves on a lot of the plants - mainly lilacs, roses, grape hyacinth, and irises. I miss my garden.