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My family

Embrace Today By: K. Wilhelmina Floria

Tears of happiness shall fall,
listen close for your destination call.

A river of tranquility flows through life.

Ride out the eye of the storm, pass the strife.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: Ugly rashes

Me Verse Lupus: Ugly rashes: "I got on the scale today and I've lost a total of 12 pounds! I'm very happy 6 more and I will be under 300 pounds. I'm feeling better...."

Ugly rashes

I got on the scale today and I've lost a total of 12 pounds! I'm very happy 6 more and I will be under 300 pounds.  I'm feeling better. Breathing is heavy and I have a heavy cough, a little phlem is coming up.  My head is a bit foggy and my ears are poping but I am not going to the hospital.  Last week the doctor reduced my steroids to 6mg. The next day my medical doctor put me on cipro from my UTI.  I stopped taking the Acyclovir, which I was taking for cronich shingles.  The new Rhuemy had reduced the dosage so I assumed I could stop taking it for a while.  Now below are the rashes I'm having.  Does anyone have a clue? Shingles hurt, these rashes don't hurt, don't itch much. Except the on on my hand, notice it has a big ugly blister, this hurts. And don't let me hit it, oh momma!  I'll go to the doctor. Next week. I hope I can hold out that long.
Right hand

right foot

left foot

right arm

under chin

I still didn't get to see my grand children yet. I was feeling sad last night and that's why, I think. Or it might be because I don't feel well.  I don't know.  I'm going to see them tomorrow and I may stay until after the New Year.  My sister and her family are suppose to come to New York to watch the ball drop in Times Square.  She's not sure if they are going to come to my daughters' or to my brothers'.  I will try and clean my daughters' apartment the best I can and watch they won't come by. It would be nice though.

I will finish my life story after the holiday.  This house is busy, all my mates' family is here. So next week when things quiet down and if I don't end up in the hospital I will write my story.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: Not feeling myself

Me Verse Lupus: Not feeling myself: "Christmas is over and I never got the spirit at all. I didn't even want to write or look at my blog. I was, well I guess I still..."

Not feeling myself

Christmas is over and I never got the spirit at all.  I didn't even want to write or look at my blog.  I was, well I guess I still am, going through some crazy feelings.  I feel like I'm out on a limb all by myself.  If I move too much I'll fall. Sometimes it feels cold out on this limb and from this point I'm on the outside looking in. I will not allow myself to get depressed. I really don't feel that way anyway.  I don't know, maybe it's this cold or sinuses that have me feeling out of it.  I spent the day in bed yesterday, that was Christmas day.  I had a low grade fever, a heavy dry cough and runny nose.  I used the oxygen all day.  My mate has a sinus infection and is on antibiotics, her mother was admitted on Christmas eve with water in the lungs. Everyone around me is sick and I refuse to go to the hospital.

I spoke to grandchildren but didn't get to see them I want to go and give them their gifts but I don't want to be so far away from the hospital.  I feel a bit better today.  I took Claritin last night, I squirted Nasonex. I'm taking antibiotics for my UTI. My mate has cough syrup I've been taking. My fever dropped and my cough is better.  So maybe I'll feel better soon.  One positive thing is that I'm eating.  If I was real sick I wouldn't be eating right?  I was thinking maybe I should go back up on my steroids, no, I'm not going to do that, I'm on 6mg and I'm staying at 6.  I hope I didn't get sick because I dropped down.  I put the humidifier on, on my c-pap machine.  I think I'm going to go back to bed right now  and stay there until I start feeling like myself.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: No Christmas Spirit Here

Me Verse Lupus: No Christmas Spirit Here: "I can't wait until Christmas is over. I'm not really the spirit at all. I got my grand kids a few gifts, and trying to wrap them. I wa..."

No Christmas Spirit Here

I can't wait until Christmas is over.  I'm not really the spirit at all. I got my grand kids a few gifts, and trying to wrap them. I watched 2 Christmas movies, Scrooged with Bill Murray, but I'll watch that in August.  And some Hallmark movies with these 2 x friends who compete to win the best decorated house contest. It was silly.  I didn't get in the mood.  I think it's all the commercial shit about the holiday.  My inbox is full of ads, pop ups when I'm reading the news on msn. Bah humbug! I mean there's so much crazy shit going on in the world. War, babies are getting killed over what? Is it oil? Is it 911 retaliation? Are they still looking for weapons of mass destruction? Ah come on. Is it Gods' will? People are having a hard time paying rent because they can't find jobs.  Kids going to bed hungry, and going to school without coats.  Sick people who have no insurance and can't get the care they need, or if they do it's just enough to keep them going. It just takes away from the joy that Christmas is suppose to be about. You got people carjacking people, robbing people in the parking lots of malls. Push in robberies and rapes.  We live in a world of evil, so how can a spirit of love, peace and happiness shine on this season.  Parents who can't afford to give their children things, these children become angry, even if their parents explain why they couldn't get anything. Materialist wishes unfulfilled can cause these children to do bad things. I've gone through the motions, sending cards and wishing people joy but I'm not feeling it. Okay I don't have the spirit and I'm sorry if I put a damper on yours.

I went to see the Rheumatologist on Monday.  He tried to justify the other doctor.  He said she was concerned about my anti-coagulation. Okay, I'll play the game, because he said there is no question about whether I have lupus or not.  Still no decision on whether I should be on blood thinners or not.  However he did reduce the steroids, I'm down to 6mg.  Woohoo! I feel the change in my appetite.

The best part is he gave me pain killers and these patches that I can put on my body where there is pain.  My back has some problems. The drug addict in me likes the pain killers, but I will behave.  I don't have an addictive nature.

I saw the medical doctor yesterday. He reduced one of my blood pressure medications. At least we are all on the same page, reduce my medications.  About the blood thinners he referred me to a hematologist.  I'll go next month after my SSD check comes in. That's another thing. This Medicare open enrollment. My Medicare starts in March and I can't figure this stuff out.  One of my medications cost over $1000 a month. I have to reach $2000 and something before they reduce it. Now I'll reach that the first month but I won't be able to pay rent. Yes I pay rent, a phone bill and other little bills like my life insurance. I'm trying not to let it stress me. I just don't know what to do.  I know I need to call Medicare and talk to someone but I rather do it in person.  I'm waiting for a book I ordered it like 3 weeks ago, it's suppose to explain all this Medicare stuff but there's only a week left to make a choice.

This is what is going on in my life today. After being out all day two days in a row I am tired I just want to chillax.  Did I mention that on Monday I walked about five blocks home from the pharmacy.  My breathing was fine; it was my back that made it difficult.  I didn't try it again on Tuesday. Still ten pounds lighter not gaining or losing.
I'll get back to my life with the next writing.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: My son is mad.

Me Verse Lupus: My son is mad.: "I went to see my son yesterday for his birthday. He's still in the hospital and they're going to send him to another 28 day rehab and ..."

My son is mad.

I went to see my son yesterday for his birthday.  He's still in the hospital and they're going to send him to another 28 day rehab and then try to find him a long term rehab for mica patients. His parole officer told him that if he hadn't gone to the hospital she was going to violate him. Then he would of been locked up for 7 more years.  I pray this boy... no man learns that he has to do what he's suppose to do. He's been home for a year and a half if he gets violated he's going to have to do another 7 years.  He needs to love life and realize that the confines of these programs are nothing like being back in jail where he was locked down on 23/7.  But he should know that better then me. He is a grown man and he has to realize mommy can't save him no more he has to save himself.  I need to learn how to let go and let God. I'm his mother and I don't want him locked up. Did I mention his father has been locked up for about 27 years for murder.

When he was a baby I had so many dreams and hopes for him.  When he was a teenager and going through his thing I thought it was just rebellion stage.  Then he was hospitalized and I was told he was schizophrenic.  I refused to believe this.  They doped him up. He fought the staff and sent 3 orderlies and 2 nurses to the hospital, so they gave him even more drugs.

I went to the library and read up on mental illness.  My son had all the signs. I started wondering if I did anything wrong. Even to this day. Is he my punishment for all the bull shit I did in my life.  Before I knew I was pregnant I smoke cigarettes and reefer.  The night before I went into labor I went with my sister and we went to this guys' house, my sister went to get high and I said what the hell and took a couple of drags from the joint.  The next morning I was in labor and gave birth 36 hours later. He was consider a preemie even though he weighted 5 pounds 2 ounces.  On the 19th the doctors had me sign for him to have surgery because he had a perforated abdomen.  The first time my son was held was 28 days after he was born.  I could touch him through the incubator but it's not the same as cradling your child. Not being held had to affect him.
He was a good baby, but I do remember one night he was crying and crying and I just couldn't take it any more and I shook him.  I didn't know better. He stopped crying for a few seconds and started right back up.  I didn't think it was a problem, but today you hear so much about shaking baby syndrome.  Maybe I fucked his head up.

As a toddler he use to sit against the wall and bang his head.  I would stop him and sometimes he would just sit and stare in space.

When I meet Mr. 23 years and moved into the hotels my son was 3 years old.  He saw a lot, pimps beating on their women.  Drug dealers, transvestites. Mr. 23 and his brother use to take my son on the roof and my son told me years later that they use to throw him back and forth between the roofs.  My son said they use to be high. Now he told me this, after he was sick and had a hard time distinguishing truth from illusions. So I don't know.

 I taught him how to read and write before he started kindergarten.  The teacher he had loved him, said he was so bright.  But we had to move and I moved back to my mothers and put him in the school around the corner.  It was over crowded and the teacher was new, fresh out of school and couldn't handle the class, she couldn't recognize how smart my son was.  I didn't know I could of demanded that he be taken out of that class.  The kids in the class were all left back and bad.  My son stopped doing well and started behaving as bad as the other kids.

We moved again and lived in Mr. 23 years step fathers' basement. The five of us in one room.  I smoked reefer around my children.  I should of known better, but I believed there was no harm in smoking reefer. My son was in 2nd grade and he was having problems. They sent him for an evaluation and it turned out he had above average intelligence but was hyper active.  I refuse medication for him.
We move again to Far Rockaway.  He just wouldn't behave he would get in trouble for talking, getting out his seat and not doing his homework or classwork. He started to smoke cigarettes and reefer.  He was normal to me he had a girlfriend that was older then him.  Then he started cutting school. He had a friend I didn't want him to hang with, this friend was robbing people, breaking in house and doing all kinds of shit.  I tried to keep my son from him. This is how he ended up staying with my sister and her husband.

After my mother died he came back home and this is when shit hit the fan.  He wasn't going to school, started drinking and doing drugs. More then reefer, later he told me he smoked PCP and after that he was no longer right in the head.  One night Mr. 23 was playing chess with him and my son just started crying, he asked Mr. 23 if he saw those things flying around the room.  My son was having audio and visual hallucinations. 

He was going in and out of hospitals.  I tried to get him in programs but at 16 the availability of programs were limited.  He ended up doing 6 months on Rikers Island. When he came home, he was in a half way house that should have been condemned, it was just trying to get paid from medicaid.  He was in out patient programs but wouldn't comply.

One night he was gone all night, he took my car. The next morning he came in and thought I called the police and was threatening me and the girls.  I told the girls to go get in the car. My oldest daughter was trying to protect me, she didn't want to leave me.  She was clinging to me as we walked down the stairs. We got into the car, locked the doors and I started the engine. Before I could pull off my son busted the back window with a shovel, then the drivers side window as I pulled off.  This was before cellphones were the norm.  I went  a few blocks away to a pay phone and called the cops.

When I got back to the neighborhood, we were in the car across the street. My son was on the roof, with the stick from the shovel, the shovel part was in the car.  He was smoking a cigarette and a cop was under the roof with a gun pointed up at him.  One of my stepsons' friends was trying to talk him down.  The cops grabbed him in the house from the window and took him to the hospital.

Shortly after that he got arrested again and did I think 2 years for robbing someone for $10.  He wasn't taking his meds and ended up beating a CO and was sentenced to a 23/7 lock down for over 11 months.  I wrote the head of corrections and they reduced the time. But every time he got in general population he got himself in some kind of trouble and ended back in the 23/7 lock down.

He came home for a few months and robbed this guy for his Walkman. When the police picked him up he had the Walkman on his ears and was sitting right where he robbed the guy at. He got 7 years for the crime and 7 years parole.  He did most of the 7 years in 23/7 lock down again.  He was in super max prisons with ruthless criminals and he was there for a Walkman theft. When he came home a year and half ago he was so skinny, he looked like a man of 60 years old. Today he looks healthy but he acts like he wants to go back to prison as I mention at the start of this story. I shared all this information because I believe I made my son the way he is. I not afraid of dying, I don't want to go anywhere yet, and today I believe I have plenty more time ahead of me. But if lupus plans to take me out sooner then later, I pray that my son is on his two feet. That he finds someone to love him and take care of him when I'm gone.  So I ask God to keep me alive until that time arrives.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: Gonna tell the my whole story

Me Verse Lupus: Gonna tell the my whole story: "I am doing too much. I don't see how people get bored when they stop working. I am busy. The only thing I miss about going..."

Gonna tell my whole story

I am doing too much.  I don't see how people get bored when they stop working.  I am busy.  The only thing I miss about going out to work is the interaction with other folks.  I guess that's why I seem to babble on and on when I have someone to talk to.  Well that's what my mate says.  I ignore her now. I also miss feeling important and in charge of things that matter.

I've been told that my blog has touched some people. This keeps me writing.  But does it matter, like the work I did for my jobs? I thought everyone was interested in the Lupus part of my life but I found that I have more readers when I share stories about my dysfunctional life.  I was a real fuck up like my brother said, but writing this blog and putting my story out there for the world to read has given me a sincere peace.  I wasn't a bad person, I just made bad decisions.  I can't blame anyone for them.  I do wish I listened when I was spoken to.   I wish those who spoke to me were more clear.  Mom use to say if a man wallows in mud he can get up, shower and put on clean clothes and everyone will forget.  But if a woman does that, everyone will talk about her for the rest of her life.  Her aunt must have told her that.  You see bougiest ran in my family.  They were always concerned about what people thought.  When I was younger in my mind, fuck what people thought.

What I needed my mother to tell me was that life is short, make your choices wisely.  I wish she told me that sex is special and I should wait until I found the right man.  That what I had between my legs was special. But sex was a subject not spoken freely in the house I grew up in.  I mean my mom told me when I got my period that the boys will want me to go with them, but don't go.  She never told me where they would take me or what they wanted.  What I learned about sex was from my friends and they were lying.  They told me that they were having sex, so I was anxious to find out myself.  A friend I had as a teenager was shocked when she found out I was really having sex, she thought I was lying too.

My grand mother told me I shouldn't be with a man if he couldn't give me anything.  She was crazy I thought.  I wasn't going to use a man, I wanted love.  Every man/boy I met I imagined was love.  When they touched me I melted, my family wasn't affectionate.  So any physical contact was accepted and desired.  I never got to know all the men I had sex with.  I can't even remember most of their names, but I can remember the act, places. I probably had sex with about 100 or more me and about 6 women.

Anyway I wish someone had told me I had all the time in the world for sex and love.  I was in love with love and the fantasy of true love.  Now I'm cynical and I wrote about my views on love in my other blog.

What I did a few days ago is copy and paste all the stories about my past in one file and all the stories about my struggles with lupus in another file.  Now I have two files that I will work on to develop into novels.  One of my readers suggested I do this.  This gives me three projects to work on these two and my fiction novel that's half way done. I read an article yesterday, the writer said, if I say I don't have time to write then I'm not a writer.  Well I a a writer and I'm going to make time to do so.  I've been writing this blog so I still have a bit of the talent I had when I was in my prime.

As I wrote this blog I didn't tell my story in chronological order and left out a lot of stuff.  I have stories that can lead into the full story. I'm going to write an out line and then just write.  I've been working on this blog since August. I have 85 pages of my life written up and over 130 of my lupus story.  If I dedicate myself to my work I should be finished in no time.

I finished my family newsletter.  I'm proud of it as I always am.  I wrote everyone a Christmas letter and I made a family tree.  And I've been making birthday cards, I think I'm getting really good at them.  I went to see the pulmonary doctor who says my lupus is under control and that I'm a good patient.  In other words I'm proactive in my care.  I don't have to see him until March. Wooowho!  I see the Rheumatologist on Monday.  Holding my breath.  I have most if not all my records from when I was first diagnosed. If he says something stupid like the other doctor, I'm getting another Rheumy. I see my medical doctor on the next day, he'll give me a suggestion.  No one is making any decision on if they want me to start on cumindain.  I'll speak with my medical doctor about it next week. Right now there doesn't seem to be any blood clots in my body.  I had a Doppler last week and it indicated that I had some clots in my right leg but they cleared up. I didn't care for the vascular doctor.  When you are over weight like me, morbidly obese, you feel the disgust from people and I felt it from the vascular doctor. But any way I feel good, I'm not going to complain about anything. No one listens anyway. 

This is what I've been doing. Oh I lost ten pounds and holding steady at that loss.  I've slacked up but my stomach shrunk and I'm trying not to stretch it again.  I continue to stay away from the sweets but I slipped up on the starches.  I'm going to continue to work at it. Not only do I see the disgust from strangers, but I see it in the mirror too.

My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny: Smell the Sh----, I mean roses.

My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny: Smell the Sh----, I mean roses.: " By: K. W. FloriaMay 9. 2008 A few weeks ago an eleven-year-old child was found hanging in her bedroom closet. Could you imagine ..."

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: I was the mother of gangsters.

Me Verse Lupus: I was the mother of gangsters.: "I've been having quite a ride through life for a few days. I rested on the 7th just didn't do too much. I woke up feeling really ..."

I was the mother of gangsters.

I've been having quite a ride through life for a few days. I rested on the 7th just didn't do too much.  I woke up feeling really good yesterday.  I went upstairs to plug up my oxygen to charge it for the day.  I was out of breath but not extremely like usual, I didn't have to stop and catch my breath, I was able to come right back downstairs. Yesterday I went to see the cardiologist. When the doctor came into the office he asked how I felt and I said to him, ''You told me you were going to have me feeling good and I feel good today."  He was pleased and said my heart is good.  I spoke to him about the rheumatalogist, I asked him if my weight was the issue for all my lung problems and he said it was not. I told him that she said, she didn't think I had lupus and he asked did she say what she thought caused my lung problems. I told him she thinks its' my weight, he suggest I speak with my medical doctor to help me find a new rheumatologist.

My son is in the ER, he told them he is considering suicide so that they will admit him.  All I can do about his circumstances is pray.  My biggest fear has always been of him walking the streets homeless and insane.

My mate didn't come home until after 12:30am I was up reading and couldn't go to sleep because I didn't know where she was. Mr. 23 years use to do the same thing.  I'm just a worrier, but anything could of happen, especially since she usually comes straight home on Wednesday nights. Anyway I was up until 2 am, had to take an Aleve to help me sleep. I had a eye appointment today but was too tired and canceled.  I spent the whole day in bed sleeping. Still tired but want to write about Mr. 23 years and the house. So here's some more of my life.

Before the car crash I was hanging out a lot, with C going to clubs and what not.   I went to this club on Jamaica Ave with this woman that was a bar maid. I was standing at the bar when this guy brought me a drink after we both got a bit tipsy he asked if I did coke and of course I did and I told him I had a car and we could go in there.  We go sniff some then we get out the car. I had on a dress, he leaned me against the car and ate me right there on the street.  The people were standing outside the club across the street. We thought the buildings were in front of were abandoned.  It was exciting trust me.

So me and this guy were hot and heavy, going to hotels and under the Whitestone bridge or where ever we could to fuck. We even did a manege toi'. Mr. 23 years found out about him and use to follow us with a friend of his.  When the affair was over I found  out that his friend talked him out of blowing our heads off while we were having sex in a parking lot near the club we meet at.  I know it was true because he had details he would only know if he was watching us.

I don't know why he had such a problem he was having an affair with that gorilla he married.  I found out and where she lived and one night when he didn't come home I went to the neighborhood and parked the car and acted like I was talking to someone on a pay phone.  He called me and came home that night. This woman also called my house saying Mr. 23 was her man. I guess he was he married her right.  Good for her, she can take care of him and he has someone to bury him. It was then that I got sick and the car accident happened.

At home was busy, the kids had their friends in and out. It would slow down when I got home.  I was hang out with C, the cousin girlfriend, by now she was the X. We were like family feeding each other, lending each other money and taking care of each others kids.  Mr. 23 was getting high again and the bills were out of control.  We would run out of oil and be with out heat for a few days. We learned that we could put diesel fuel in the tank, so we would buy a few gallons and warm the house and  take showers.  The gas was off for years, so I cooked on hot plates and I had George Foreman toaster oven. I was a hell of a cook with that shit.  I mean I was cooking big dinners with them.  The bathtub started leaking into the kitchen and the living and dinning room where cold, so we cooked in my bedroom.  The hot plates second as heaters.
My unemployment  ran out. The bills were accumulating, the house was crumbling down around us.  I took the money out of my 401k. I was young still plenty of good working years in me. 

I finally get a job in another home care agency, my position was Director of Human Resources, it's a private agency.  I get fucked around.  I had more experience then everyone there.  In my previous position I my title was Personnel Specialist, what I did was hire and supervise the home attendants, this was a city agency. In the private agency this position was coordinator.  I would assist the coordinators with their jobs. There was a VIP client and I helped the coordinator get an aide.  The coordinator was calling the aide and client family back and forth to discuss the responsibilities, the directions and whatever else.  I suggested that she set up a conference call and let them talk to each other.  When Christmas came she receive a bonus for her quick thinking in making the conference call, she looked at me when she accepted the certificate and cash award.  I didn't say anything, and I didn't feel guilty when I accepted a position with an agency downstairs.

While I was with this agency I was able to get a loan/mortgage to do repairs on the house. I got the electricity and plumbing updated and they tore down the walls on the first floor and the stairs going to the second floor.  The bathroom and kitchen were redone.  I had a new house.

The other job I took was with another private home care agency where I was a coordinator until they opened a branch in Brooklyn, where I would be promoted the office manger. The salary was good and I shined in that position, I created a lot of revenue for the company.  After a year I was promoted to Assistant Administrator, I was in charge of the three NYC branches.  I was a fair boss yet I was firm and took no shit.

Mr. 23 years went to rehab and things were okay.  He got money from the suit when he got hit when were trying to get guardianship of the young girl.  He was also in a relationship with several women.  It didn't bother me because at this time I was too tired to have sex.  I only had interest when I was high off cocaine.  I started using the coke to help me with energy.  I was always tired.  I wasn't having any affairs, just working and hanging with C, we would just hang at her house or over one of her friends houses.

Mr. 23s' friend moved in, I was renting rooms. which is a joke cause they didn't pay any rent after the first month.  Mr. 23 and I would talk about putting everyone out but never did.  My step son was there, his friends were coming in and out.  My daughter had a friend and I'm calling out his name, Sunday.  Sunday was homeless at like 14, his mother didn't want him. Just like my stepson, so my stepson took him under his wing. Mr. 23 and his brother, really his friend but he was like our brother.  He was close to us both.  Back when I was studying the 5 percent lessons hard we use to build with each other.  We both kept studying and were into the esoteric studies.  So anyway everyone was looking out for Sunday.  He use to do these robberies and get locked up and the next thing you know he was back on the street. 

My stepson had a warrant for his arrest because of a drug sale. He and I talked and he assured me he wasn't doing any business in the house.  There were telephone trucks across from the house and the street lights use to go off. We were being watched.

One night this guy, an older guy comes to the house looking for my stepson.  Sunday had introduced him to my stepson.  A few days later I came home, C was with me.  the door was open and the police were all over the place. I ask the police whats going on and he asks who I am and I tell them I'm the owner.  I go in the house and everyone is handcuffed and on the floor. They handcuff me and we all 9 of us spent the night in jail.  I was arrested when I was 19, for buying alcohol for a minor.  I was just given a given a date to go to court.  This time I was finger printed, photographed and locked down over night.  I held my pee for most of the night, unheard of for me.  My youngest daughter was in the cell across from us because she was a minor. They gave us sandwiches stale bread, baloney or cheese.  I didn't eat or drink. I had no idea what time it was.  I took my boots off and slept on them. My step son girlfriend and I stayed close. They let us all go except my stepson, his girlfriend and my tenant that was in the attic.  My tenant had guns in the attic, he had permits for them but they expired.  He had a pearl handle .22 that didn't get on the rooster. We were held for 24 hours later.  I went got cash and we all went home.

My oldest daughter came home from work that morning, two of my stepsons' friends stayed in the house all night because the door was broken from when the police busted in. When we got there the house was in shambles, they tore everything up. They found some cocaine residue and some heroin, Mr. 23 took the rape for it, the coke was mine of course.

We found out that Sunday made a deal with the police and he set my stepson up.  some of my stepsons' friends were going to murder Sunday I was able to talking them out of it. but I couldn't stop them from kicking his ass.  I was mom and they respected me, they came to me with questions and talked freely with me.  If anyone said anything wrong to me or disrespected me, I called them my boys they took care of them. I took care of them too. 

There's more to follow another day.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: Doctor Sensitivity Course

Me Verse Lupus: Doctor Sensitivity Course: "I came to your office to find answers for the ills that ail me. First of all I’m not a statistic, I’m a live specimen. I am scared, a..."

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Doctor Sensitivity Course

I came to your office to find answers for the ills that ail me.  First of all I’m not a statistic, I’m a live specimen. I am scared, anxious and don’t know all the technical terms, not even sure how to pronounce most of them anyway. I don’t know the names of all the tests I’ve taken, you see it was another doctor who ordered them and they spoke doctor language too. Remember I didn’t go to medical school; in fact I wasn’t even that good in biology or chemistry. So speak to me in the language I speak.  I am not an imbecile; I’m trying to understand my illness. 
I have questions, to you they may be stupid or insignificant, but to me they are very important.  So please don’t talk down to me or display loathing, I have feelings you know.
And another thing this appointment was made several weeks ago. You could have been prepared to meet me.  Was it too hard to review my records from our last visit the afternoon before my appointment or this morning before your patients began to arrive?  I mean this way you would be familiar with my case. My time is important, just like yours, you know.
Before you diagnosis or undiagnosed a patient, get your facts in order. Do you know how stressful is to wait for a call or worst for the next visit that may be weeks away? First the anxiety comes, that leads to depression and then I’m sick with worry.  I want to know what is wrong. I want to know if it isn’t what I was originally diagnosed with, then why am I feeling the way I am. What is that I have, why am I taking all these drugs to treat something I don’t have? Worst you speculate, order test and now I have to wait to know what is wrong and to be treatment. Until you know for sure what is wrong with me, keep your mouth shut.
Do not pretend to care after you displayed your bitch personality.  I know a phony.  There is a whole network of doctors out there.  I can drop you and find another in a minute, I can write the American Medical Association about you. I can rate you on  or .
I want to trust you and feel comfortable enough to ask you anything about my health, progress and treatment.  Keep this in mind as you practice medicine; treat your patients with respect, kindness and most of all compassion. Hear what I have to say, don’t get disgusted if I get the terminology wrong, or phrase the question incorrectly. I am not a doctor I am a sick person looking to you for answers for this frightening phase in my life.
I don’t think this is too much to ask.  Does anyone else have any subjects that need to be added?

Monday, December 6, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: New Rhuemy is a QUACK!!

Me Verse Lupus: New Rhuemy is a QUACK!!: "I woke up this morning feeling good. Well actually I went to bed feeling good. I took the hair off my face. I used this Mary Kay facial stu..."

New Rhuemy is a QUACK!!

I woke up this morning feeling good. Well actually I went to bed feeling good.  I took the hair off my face. I used this Mary Kay facial stuff, I curled my hair and wrapped it.  I got my clothes together for today and went to bed. Despite that my son got himself kicked out of rehab, and got drunk and went to his sisters house and she was angry with me.  My grandson went to the ER and was diagnosed with bronchitis, that's where the subject of my other blog came from. I heard that she got into a physical fight with her on again off again boyfriend. But despite this drama I still felt okay.

On Saturday I accompanied my mates niece to an audition for the All City Choir, they were having a rehearsal, she auditioned during a 10 minute break and got in.  I really enjoyed watching them rehearse.

Today I went to see the Rhuematologist.  There goes my good mood.  This is the second time I saw her.  First they couldn't find my chart, and when they did they only had one page of my medical history she took.  She askes a few questions and talks with my actual doctor.  She is doing a study of lupus.  Her concern is my weight, which is mine too.  She says I probaly have PH because of my weight. Now I read that weight has nothing to do with the PH. I said nothing.  She said she doesn't think I have Lupus. She wants to know what kind of markers I had.  I mentioned the hair loss, the false positive syhilis, allergy to sulfa drugs, photo sensitivity, the rashes.  She says those aren't symptoms.  My blood work is good right now.  I've been on steroids for two years and about four months now. I've been taking cellcept for almost two years and I've been on plaquline off and on for I guess two years.  Do you think maybe the drugs are doing what they are suppose to? She claims my weight is the but if my health problems. I was over weight before I was diagnosed with lupus. When I got sick I was losing weight anothe symptom. Oh got so pissed.

I've been home since 1:30pm at 2:30pm I pulled out all my blood work I had  since I was diagnoised, I went on WebMd and looked up the laboratory tests used to diagnoise lupus and evaluate sle. Guess what, there are 17 markers, this includes test for renal function.  I had 9 markers when I was first diagnoised.

I see the doctor I choose to be my Rhuematologist on the 20th.,  if he agrees with her. I will be looking for another Rhuematologist.  I can't believe this.  I'm so damn angry, if I don't have lupus why am I taking all this fucking medication. Why? That woman is a quack!!

Friday, December 3, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: Lupus is invading my body today.

Me Verse Lupus: Lupus is invading my body today.: "My son came but his escort didn't come with him. My son said the guy probably would feel uncomfortable so he went his own way. My son had a..."

Lupus is invading my body today.

My son came but his escort didn't come with him.  My son said the guy probably would feel uncomfortable so he went his own way. My son had a bowl of cereal and for lunch he had the Cornish hen with stuffing. And guess what there's still another half of hen left.  I posted a vent the morning my son came and thus deleted it. Those who caught the vent know what I'm talking about.  My son checked his benefit card and found that he had a couple of hundred dollars in food stamps on his card.  So he took my mate to the grocery store and spent a lot of money I don't how much but my mate gave him $50 in cash.  I think she got about $150 worth of food. I haven' heard from my son since, but I'm sure he's okay.  The essay I wrote on my other blog My 2Cents not worth a penny, 'A Lesson to Learned' was written for my son. I really hope he hears it.

I ate some Jamaican food on Wednesday night, rice and peas and oxtail. It was so good.  Yesterday I had cereal for breakfast and for dinner I had fried liver with onions, mash potatoes and peas.  Yum.  I ate a cup of butter pecan ice cream.  And don't forget my potato chips.  I eat the lightly salted chips, but still I need to leave them alone.  I eat the frozen grapes but it's too cold now and that's the only way I like them. I need something non-fattening that I can eat to fill the void of not smoking.  I don't want a cigarette but I still feel the void of not doing something with my hands, that's where the chips come in.  Any suggestions? Please leave a comment and give me some ideas.

I'm tired, I've been tired for several days now.  My mate she thinks I'm lazy.  I tell her I'm tired she thinks once I sleep I shouldn't be tired any more.  Yesterday we were sitting at the kitchen table and my cell phone was in the living room, about 15 feet away. I said damn I need my cell phone, I wasn't saying it to her, more  like fussing to myself out loud.  She says it's right there go get it.  I just looked at her.  She went and got it for me.  I wanted to come downstairs and get undressed, check emails and such then go lay down.  But I sat at the kitchen table for about an hour longer because I didn't want to move.  I finally came downstairs and got on the computer and again I didn't want to move.  I finally went to bed and waited up for my mates' friend. It was after 11 pm when my mate called and told me, her friend would be in after 12 am and she would be home to wait for her. 

I slept all night, got up once to go to the bathroom.  I was cold and got back in bed, put the covers over my head and I went back to sleep.  I went into a deep sleep, when I woke up I didn't want to open my eyes, I didn't want to yawn, because that would be too exhausting.  I peeked at the clock and it was 8am, the time I take my cellcept, I take it then so I can eat by 10am.  I wanted to get up and take my meds but I couldn't make my body listen.  I think I dozed off again because the next thing I knew it was after 9 am.  I pushed myself out of bed.  I have birthday cards to make, my newsletter to finish.  I had to get up.  I felt guilty laying in the bed. 

I get up and my mate asks me how I feel.  I usually tell her I'm okay, this morning I say not good and I explain that I'm tired and she asks what the doctors say. Nothing.  Can I take the B12, yes but they don't do anything. When I got the B12 shots the first one made me feel more energized, but the 5 proceeding shots did nothing for my energy level.  On Daily Strengthen they were talking about a drug 'Provigil' I go to the doctor Monday, I'm going to ask about it. 

In addition to being tired I've been cold.  But that's no problem because I like to be cold.  It's just weird because I'm never cold. My temperature is at it's usual 96.7 or 97.3 never 98.6 which it's suppose to be.  When I was taking the cytoxin I was told my temperature would be lower then normal, I haven't had cytoxin in over a year.  Is this a flare or just a lupus norm.  I mean I've been tired, but once I get out of bed the energy charges up.  I feel like I ran out of gas like an old car. You can turn my key and I'll cough and spit but I'm not reeving up at all.

Today the ocean has no fish, the sky no birds, and the earth is without foot prints.  The sun won't shine and the moon vanished in an abyss of darkness and me in a vacum sucked in a hollow world where energy is dead. Oh it's just a lupus day.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny: A Lesson to Be Learned

My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny: A Lesson to Be Learned: "In the beginning there’s a sperm and an ovary. A joining takes place in the womb, an embryo develops, grows and an infant is born, innocent..."

Monday, November 29, 2010

Jane Krakowski to Light Empire State Building Orange for New York City’s Lupus Foundation

Jane Krakowski to Light Empire State Building Orange for New York City’s Lupus Foundation

Me Verse Lupus: The continuing drama of 23 years.

Me Verse Lupus: The continuing drama of 23 years.: "Another morning, another headache with heavy dry eyes. But I feel okay otherwise. I'm not a misfit today. I'm alive and ready to face the ..."

The continuing drama of 23 years.

Another morning, another headache with heavy dry eyes.  But I feel okay otherwise.  I'm not a misfit today. I'm alive and ready to face the world of cyberspace.  I don't have to go out all week.  My daughters' birthday is on the 7th and she's having a party with her friends on Saturday, so guess where I'll be. Yea baby sitting.  I hope I can store enough energy.  I worked on my newsletter yesterday, I designed  the front only thing is I set it up as a poster so all the work was for naught.  The cover is the hardest part because I add the graphics.  Noe I have to do it over again. What else do I have to do?  I started my sisters' birthday card, just six more to go.  To think I wanted to go into the card making business.  I need to just concentrate on my writing.  It's what I enjoy and it has no demands yet.

I went a little head of myself the last time I wrote about being in the house. My mother worked for the Parks Department, she had a high ranking position she worked with the commissioner.  As I mentioned her little church was jammed packed.  My boss was impressed with the officials that came to my mothers' funeral.

Mom had insurance that covered the funeral and she had a 401k that she left to her children.  We each received almost 80k each.  I deposited that money and that night I cried when I wrote checks to pay off all my debts.  I brought a brand new 1993 Mazda MVP, I loved that car. It was low mataince, but still a stupid move.  I should of gotten a used car, because I had still had to make the payments each month and that became difficult when Mr. 23 picked up his habit again. I had my job that I was embezzlling money from. so I was making the payments and the paying the bills on the house with my salary. 

Mr. 23 was responsible for feeding us and some nights that didn't happen. So I took a second job with McDonald's. Father was suppose to watch the kids, keep them out of trouble.  His son, who I love as my own moved in because he got arrested and needed to change his address. A place to hide. His son had lots of friends that would come and visit and hang out and smoke their weed.  It was okay because I smoked mine too. 

My son was running around drinking and smoking and behaving erratic.  He got arrested for stealing a Walkman from this kid in school. I used the last of my money to bail him out and pay for a lawyer.  The lawyer suggested I take him to the doctor which I did and they sent him to a mental hospital.  I had insurance so it was a nice place.  When I went to see him they had him strapped to the bed and said he was schizophrenic.  Were they crazy! Not my son, he's just smoking weed and drinking too much.  How could they give him medication before they tested him.  They said he beat up four orderlies.  They were lying. I went to the library to learn about mental illness.

My oldest daughter was going to school and hanging with her school friends. She was doing what she was suppose to.  My cousin who was staying with us was doing the same. They were smoking weed too. My cousin was from California and the gangs and was a bit gangster. After the cousin went back to California, one of my daughters' friends moved in because her mother didn't care and eventually moved away and abandoned her. Father and I were in the process of getting guardianship.

My youngest daughter use to run the streets.  Everyone knew her.  She worked in the store packing bags, collecting bottles, shopping for old people and taking care of other kids dogs.  She worked hard, but she hated school and she stopped going. I would take her to school and she would run out the other door.  The agency for children services investigated me. They had me put a pins warrant on my daughter and she was put in special education and she went to school some what regularly but by the time she was 16 she quit.

Father didn't pay any attention to them. I was working, I would leave at 8 am and not return home until after midnight.  On the night I was off I slept.  On the weekends I would work 16 hours to help make a 40 hour week.  I trusted Father to look out for the kids, but he was chasing crack.

The IGs' came to my job with guns drawn and all.  We had to show ID and proved that we belonged.  They sealed up our records and we were under investigation.  They called me to the State Building and questioned me.  They said I wasn 't the focus of their investigation but that didn't make it less scary.  Long story short they shut the office down.  I was kept on to assist with closing out the records and such.  I quit working at McDonald's while I was still working for the home care agency so I could collect the unemployment when it finally closed for good.

McDonalds was a fun job, I loved it.  No stress, but it was a lot of work. cleaning the store and running around to serve the customers in less then 3 minutes.  I use to have a long line because the regulars wanted me to assist them.  I use to work the drive through, both windows, I would take the order and prepare the food for them. They were going to keep me, train me to be a manager, I was already bossing the kids around even the ones that were crew mangers.  But I was afraid of getting stuck there and taking a slow trip to the top.  Any young person who needs a job, career. McDonald's is the place.  They will train you and you could advance over the years to owning your own Franchise.  The owner of the store I worked at was 34 and worked for Mc'ds since she was 14.  I was 37 too old to start at the bottom.

My son did six months in jail and came home and after a month or two was arrested again, I don't remember for what, I think it was over $10 he stole from some one. They gave him time this time I think he got 5 years.  He was in a nice prison but he got paranoid and attacked a guard and they sent him to max and he was treated badly because he attacked a Correction officer. They put him in solidarity confinement for something like 11 months.  My son caused all his tribulations, by refusing to take medication. By refusing to follow the rules and regulations.  Before he ended up locked for the five years I tried to get him in programs and he wouldn't try.  Today he's in rehab because he didn't like the rules of the building he was living in, and also because he wants to get high, and drink.  He's in rehab and still complaining about the facility.  He wants to do what he wants, when he wants, and always ends up fucking his life up more.  He's my son and I love him but I don't know what else to do or say to make him see he has to follow the program and eventually things will work out for him.  He doesn't hear, all he does is tell me how much he hates it here, there or where ever he is.  I guess he forgot he spent 12 years of his life in prison.

Now I was unemployed and looking for work. Fathers cousins' girlfriend, C and I  were hanging out a lot.  We were hitting bars, drinking and sniffing drugs. We were close.  While we were doing our thing, father and his cousin were doing theres'.  C's godfather lived on the other side of town. C told me that she saw Father coming out of the upstairs apartment. Her godfather told her this woman lived up there. I didn't pay it any mind. Until C told me she saw Father at the bus stop with the woman holding a baby.  This got my attention.  I didn't care if he was having an affair.  I mean I was doing my thing and an affair with a woman was better then the affair he was having with the crack and heroin. But having a baby with another woman. Oh no!

Especially when were struggling finaically.  We weren't eating regularly and we didn't have heat every month.  There were many nights that we went to bed in a cold house.  We would all sleep in my bedroom.  Use hot plates to cook with and heat the room.  We would sleep under tons of blankets and in our coats and hats.

 I got a sinus infection. No job meant no insurance but I got antibiotics from the city hospital emergency room.  I was given bacitratian which contains sulfa.  I was in pain, my head was pounding and I was taking 24 over the counter Tylenol pills a day for about 3 days.  I ended up laying in bed, shitting on myself.  Father would clean me up and tell me to go to the ER. I refused I told him the antibiotics needed to kick in.  Finally he said to hell with this and helped me shower and took me to the ER.  I didn't have any fight left. By the time I got to the hospital I had no white blood cell and I damaged my liver with all the Tylenol. 

While I was in the hospital father let my oldest daughter and her friend use the car.  They crashed the car. Father was going to one hospital to see my son, to another to check on my daughter and then to the next to see me.  The car was totaled and the girl whos' mother abandoned her was killed in the car. The way that car looked it's amazing anyone walked out of it alive.

Two weeks or so after I was out the hospital and the girls' funeral. Father was taking me to my follow up doctors' appointment.  I stopped in Hallmark to get some thank you cards.  He waited outside.  When I came out he was talking to this woman.  I walked up and stood next to them, this woman stepped in front of me like I had no business being there. So I walked over to Father and put my arm into his.  She cut her eyes at me and they finished their conversation. As we walked to the bus stop and he told me he was messing with her friend. I told him he could of told her who I was.  This was 13 years ago, he was with the woman he married all the way back then.

Stay tune the story will continue.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: I'm a misfit today

Me Verse Lupus: I'm a misfit today: "I think I have recovered from my thanksgiving. I've been feeling off I guess it's due to the new medication. My stomach gets upset in the ..."

I'm a misfit today

I think I have recovered from my thanksgiving.  I've been feeling off I guess it's due to the new medication.  My stomach gets upset in the morning and of course I wake up with the headaches.  I've been cold most of the time, I thought I was getting a cold but I don't know.  I'm not sneezing or coughing more then usual.

I took the medicare stuff over to my daughters and she does understand it and it's still mind boggling to me, so she told me to gather all the info I can and give her permission to speak on my behalf and she'll pick out the best program for me.  Right now the monthly cost of my medication is over $3000 dollars.  There is no way in hell I can afford that.

My grand kids are really growing up.  I enjoyed seeing them and being with my children. I don't want to express what I really feel being with them over the holiday. Only that they put the funk in dysfunctional. I'm just going to say I'm thankful for them. And be happy.

My middle grandchild was going to his fathers' for the rest of the weekend.  He came back to Queens with me on Access-A-Ride.  His father was suppose to pick him up by 8:30 pm it was after 10 when he says he didn't have carfare or a ride. So my grandson spent the night it was okay.

My mate can be really thoughtful at times.  She unpacked and set up my c-pap machine and when she found out my grandson was spending the night she made his bed.  I got up that morning and fixed him grits, eggs and bacon that he requested and he enjoyed it.  He had some ice cream and then we went out in the yard where he ran around and had some fun.  When he came back in he played on the computer.  There was no crying or temper tantrums at all.  My mate took him to his father.

I wasn't feeling too well all day yesterday and still feel a bit under the weather today. I can't really explain what I feel like. I know I'm falling into a depression.  I don't know if it's the holiday coming up and I don't have money to spoil my grandchildren with.  The experience I had at my daughters or the uncertainly of who I will wake up with in the morning.  My mate is so moody, some days she's a sweet at my daughter sweet potato pie was and some days she's as nasty as the vomit from a drunk.

Any way I feel like a misfit from the land of misfit toys.  They were really depressed people in a mental institution you know.  I feel like I don't belong anywhere.  I don't have my own space, my nerves are on edge all the time.  But I'm not going to allow myself to fall into this.  I said several weeks  ago I'm going to happy for what I have.  I have a place to sleep and  food to eat.  I have twitter, FB and my great support team on Daily Strength.  I have my family that are polite to me and talk to me when I call.  So all this sad feeling is all in my head.

I don't have to go out this week so I can work on the December birthday cards, my sister, two of my children and a great niece have birthdays.  My 99 year old cousin will be 100 on the 22nd of this month and my brother will be celebrating his 38 year wedding anniversary.  I also need to get the family newsletter done.  I had it started, but the virus wiped everything out so I needed to start from scratch.  I like doing it all of this but I get distracted.  I feel fatigue but once I start I get on a roll, it's the same with my writing.  It's all about getting focused.

 I looked at my novel last week and I edited two pages.  I don't have much more to write to finish it. I just need to finish it. 

On Daily strength they were talking about this drug that gives energy.  I'm going to ask my doctors for a prescription.  I would love to have more energy. Maybe then I can get out this funk.  I'll write more when I start to feel better.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny: Why are you special?

My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny: Why are you special?: "There’s this joke, you’re so special, both your parents must have been retarded. Have you wonder what makes you special? Do you think you..."

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: My Thanksgivings

Me Verse Lupus: My Thanksgivings: "I'm feeling pretty good. Still watching what I'm eating. I had cereal this morning, my favorite Kashi Go Lean Shredded Wheat with the Almo..."

My Thanksgivings

I'm feeling pretty good.  Still watching what I'm eating.  I had cereal this morning, my favorite Kashi Go Lean Shredded Wheat with the Almond Breeze milk. Can't wait for breakfast tomorrow.  Today my mate and I got up to walk with her friend, this was at 5 am.  Instead of the walk we ended up going to Path mark, I didn't use the scooter in the store as I always do.  My back was in pain, but I sucked it up and handled it.  Breathing was fine though.  When we got home that's when I had my cereal, and we went back to bed.  I took a nap, I've been napping all week.  I juiced some spinach, carrots and apples. Later my mate made me a lamb chop and warmed some cooked spinach. Now I'm eating some lightly salted chips. Later I will have some frozen grapes and maybe a pear or tangerine. I'm losing, can't really see it on the scale but I feel it.  My panties are loose and my tee shirts are hanging different.  My face looks thinner, but I discovered that when I Nair the hair off my face it looks chubbier. Another side affect of the steroids is your hair grows all over your face.

This is the first year in many years that I'm not cooking.  My oldest daughter is cooking, and she told me to come tomorrow and by the time I get there she should almost be done.  I told Access-A-Ride that I needed to be there by 11 am. I don't know if I'll be back Friday night or Saturday morning.

I wrote an article for my new blog, there's a link to it but in case you didn't see it here's one I want to get feedback on this one.  I hope is inspires feedback.

The last Thanksgiving before my mother died was at my sisters house in Jersey. All of us got together, My brothers' family and mine. We had a great time, my sister and her husband did most of the cooking. We tried to rent a video camera but they were all rented, but we did take pictures and all my mothers grandchildren took a picture with my moms.

My first Thanksgiving without her was with Mr. 23 years, his cousin, mother and his cousins' girlfriend who became a good friends of mine, even after she broke up with the cousin, of course my children and the cousin girlfriend's children.  I did all the cooking, I cooked the traditional meal that my family cooked.  Turkey, roast beef, (my family would cook ham, but we didn't eat pork so hense the roast). Mac and cheese of course, candy yams, sweet potato yams, stuffing, corn pudding, coleslaw, whole cranberries mixed with pineapples, mash potatoes, string beans, corn, (my family made turnips, mushrooms, and pearl onion but I don't care for them.) I made sweet potato pies and an apple pie.  I made a cake but back then I didn't put enough butter in the mix and they would come out hard, so they use to call them brick cakes.  Once I put chocolate frosting and my oldest daughter said, "mommy made a brick and put mud on top." I stayed up all night cooking, drinking and sniffing my cocaine.  After our dinner we all partied, bellies full and plenty of liquor.  The kids entertained.  They went upstairs and smoked their weed.  It was good times, but sad that the era was changing for me both my mom and grandmother were gone.  The cousin's girlfriend, I'm going to call her C, we became family.  We bonded because we were both orphans. Our children started calling each other cousins.  We would spend our holidays together, we both were estranged from our families, I guess because we were party girls.  It was C's brother that picked me up the other day in Access-A-Ride.  We would hang out with him but after we got high, C and her brother would always get into a fights.

We did develop some nice memories over the years.  Most of the teenagers that grew up with my kids remember the house fondly. During the holiday season they would all be in and out and enjoying my cooking cause bsides the brick cake, I could throw down. A lot of them couldn't believe that Mr. 23 and I were no longer together. 

When I worked for the home care that got closed down, I use to get a paid holiday for the day after thanksgiving and I would spend the weekend recuperating from the cooking and parting.  I thought it was natural despite that everyone else was up and about. I knew I would be tire so I always took the next day off from all my jobs I had after the homecare agency.

Last year, I went to my daughters for the week before Thanksgiving to I cleaned her house, shopped for the food and cooked and prepared the dinner all week.  I out did myself and couldn't hold my eyes open after.  My mate came over, after she told me she wasn't.  My son was there the first Thanksgiving he had with us in like ten years maybe more.  (he won't be there this year, he's in rehab and I know he's disappointed.) I was surprised when Mr. 23 year popped in.  Boy was I nervous.  I had my oldest daughters' father there, Mr. 23 years and my current lover. Everyone was cool, my mate even kissed Mr. 23 year when she left. But of course the green eye monster was there when I got home. This year I believe it will be quiet. I don't know if our dinner will be traditional or just a meal that we will share as a family.  I will share when I return home.

This holiday  I am thankful for the great doctors that have me patched up and made me healthy enough to spend the day with my children. I'm thankful for this life and for each day I wake to greet the world a new.
 I wish all my readers and followers of this blog, A Happy, Healthy and Safe Thanksgiving.  And God Bless you all.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: This must be a flare

Me Verse Lupus: This must be a flare: "This is what they talk about when the body shuts down. I guess all my running around has hit me. I don't have any spoons today, my body is..."

This must be a flare

This is what they talk about when the body shuts down.  I guess all my running around has hit me.  I don't have any spoons today, my body is worn.  I got out the bed because my back is hurting.  I wanted to write on my new blog but I can't think. As I'm typing this I keep making errors, but I want to share with everyone what it feels like.  I typed for the 20 years that I worked, I don't look when I type, I type about 60 words a minute.  It has taken me 20 minutes to type up to this point. 

I want to crawl back in bed but like I said my back hurts and I don't want to wake my mate.  I have some Netflix and that's what I'll do for the day. I'm going to push myself to finish the birthday card so I can have it mailed tomorrow. It's going to be hard because my hands are swollen and my arms are heavy. I feel like I'm on some serious drugs. Well I am but I mean something like a narcotic.  My eyes are heavy and I don't want to go to the bathroom.  Just taking a few steps feels like it will take everything out of me.

It is 8:43 am I got out the bed at 8 am. I checked my emails, checked FB, played a game of freecell. I won on the first game which tells me mentally I'm thinking lucid.  Then I started writing here about 25 minutes ago.
I went to sleep about 9:30 pm, that's 10 and a half hours sleep and I feel like I been up all  night.

Doc called in a script of antibiotics and I'm taking the new drug for my PH. I hope it's not that but just a lupus flare.  I'm going to rest and will be back when I'm feeling better.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: Just us in the house

Me Verse Lupus: Just us in the house: "Woke up again with a shopping list of things I want to do today. I will definitely work on the birthday card I need to do that, it is over ..."

Just us in the house

Woke up again with a shopping list of things I want to do today.  I will definitely work on the birthday card I need to do that, it is over due and their a couple coming up. I have some thoughts that I want to write but they are for a separate blog I'm going to start. It's called 'My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny.'  I'm going to vent and talk shit there, and try not to mention my health or personal struggles.  I'm going to be a normal sane person in that blog.

I have a headache. I'm taking the new medication for the PH.  It's Viagra! Maybe I'll get an erection. Seriously one of the side effects is blindness that irreversible. But hopefully my breathing will be better.  Yesterday I went for a V/G scan and there were some abnormalities and my Pulmonary doctor sent me to the ER to do a CAT scan with contrast. Okay here's some venting.  I was there from 11am until 6:30 pm.  When they were admitting me to the ER I got so much attention, everyone was in the little room, they even gave me this warm thing in my hand to warm my blood before they stuck me for the IV line. They liked my medical information card and thought it was funny that I had a laminator at home. They even took my shoes and socks off for me.  Then they were gone.  I got someones attention to go to the bathroom but  after that, all and all they basically ignored me.

There was this man in the room next to me.  I have no idea what he looked like but he had a annoying voice and nasty mouth to match.  Racism is alive and well in America.  This man was disgusting.  He didn't want anyone to assist him except white Americans.  Not anyone with an accent.  He told the Chinese people to get away from them because they are bombing America.  He told the Pueto Rician man to go back to Peuto Rico. He told the the Indians, to go to the airport and board the next plane to India.  When a group of black doctors passed his room he said oh look at the Africans, why don't ya'l go to Africa, we don't want you here. He yelled out that he was HIV positive and didn't care who knew. He kept screaming he wanted to sign himself out if he didn't get any help.  I mean he was being a pain in the ass.  He got nastier and nastier as the day went on.  He told the lady in the room across from him that she was a disgusting fat pig, she stays home all day eating and getting fat.  A black doctor went into his room and he yelled get this nigger out my room.  The staff finally had enough and called security so they could give him a shot to calm him down.  Then they took him up to his room.

About two hours after the pig was gone I asked one of the orderlies what was happening with me.  He said I don't know but if I wanted help, I know what to do.  He was referring to the pig, that I should yell and scream.  It took all this time to get a CAT.  If I was at the city hospital they would of had that CAT done and I would of been out of there in 2 maybe 3 hours if they weren't going to admit me. Now my conclusion is that in the city ER they have a lot of people and they have to get them in and out.  Here they didn't have no rush.  Well the CAT scan didn't show any pulmonary embolism. Good, right? No! They still don't know what is causing my breathing to be difficult or what the abnormalities are.  What does this mean?  More fucking test!

They didn't feed me while I was in the ER in case they had to do some procedure or something. I was starving.  I had a bagel that morning and a cup of fruit. By the time I got home it was after 7pm. I had plan to eat the rest of the salad I made with tuna, or if there was chicken I was going to have that.  My mate being the thoughtful person that she is, fried me a hamburger with cheese, onions and of course a potato roll. Yum! I guess it didn't hurt.  This morning I had, a bowl of cereal with Almond milk and I ate a banana. I got that banana down, I really don't like them.  I got caught up on the news reading the papers from Thursday up to today. My doc called I still have a UTI and was calling in a prescription for stronger antibiotics.  My mates niece went and picked them up for me. Before I came down to write the rest of this entry I had a piece of broiled flounder and that salad.

I am tired but I don't want to lay down. I'll tell you about the move into the house.

We packed up the apartment in Far Rockaway, I don't remember but I think we rented a U-Haul. My furniture and TV were from Rent-A-Center and they moved my furniture.  My Uncle was angry that I moved the furniture he gave my mother, to the porch. Yes it was good furniture, but it was old fashion, it had plastic on it. I like my living room to be a place to live in.  So he told my grandmother he couldn't come to the house and see the furniture on the porch.  The porch was nice, it was in door, not out in the elements of nature.

A week or so after the funeral my brother came over and we wrote the thank you cards. It was a lot, mom's little church was packed. It was standing room only.  My mothers, brothers, sister and my friends and co-workers all attended.  They sent flowers, cards with  money, fruit, food and drink.

Mommy worked for the NYC Parks department. She had a huge pension, she was retired for less then a year, all her money was there.  She willed it to me, my brother and sister.  We received close to 80K a piece.  I paid off all my bills and brought a brand new 1993 Mazda MVP. Loved that car.  I let a co-worker talk me into getting a car note.  Mistake, you know hind sight.  I should of followed my mind and got a good used car paid in full.  Keeping up on the utilities, insurance, taxes and don't forget food, it was a lot.  My cousin asked me to take her daughter in because she was getting in trouble and I did. My cousin had promised to pay me $300 a month or something like that.  I got the $300 once and she was there September to November I think.  I'm glad she and her cousins got to know each other. She wasn't any different then my own children.  They all were smoking cigarettes and reefer.  They ran up and down the steps and the house shook and rattled, inside the walls the cement was crumbling.  The electricity couldn't handle the video games, multiple TVs' and boom boxes. The plumbing was leaking into the kitchen and the basement. 

Gran had a hard time going up and down the stairs.  She spent most of her time in her room, she had newspapers all over the floor.  She would smoke her cigarettes all the way to her fingers, until they burned, she couldn't feel it.  I she would go down and get something to eat, I would fix dinner and take it up to her.  Sometime she wouldn't eat or she would send one of the kids to go and get her Chinese food. My sister-in-law would take her to her doctor appointments and occasionally they would take her for the weekend. I tried my best, I really did, but I don't think it was enough. She was Gran, always strong, the woman I use to challenge when I was a know it all teenager.  The lady who usually had something negative to say about everyone and once a a while sometime good to say.  I took for granted that she was going up and down the steps that she could do it.  I offered to help her in the tub, but she didn't want my help.  Looking back on it I should of did more.  My sister-in-law said if I didn't want to move into the house that she would of taken Gran.  I should of asked her to take Gran when the stove and refrigerator started acting up.  One morning as I was getting ready for work Gran left the bathroom and went in her room and closed the door.  She soiled the toilet and I cleaned it up.  When I went pass her room she was laying on  the bed with her legs hanging off.  I called her but she didn't say anything, when I went in she wasn't breathing, I called 911 and the asked me to put her on the floor and to preform CPR.  I didn't know how and I was afraid. Mr. 23 years did it.  The EMTs' came. Gran was a live when they carried her out, I saw her move her arm.  I got to the hospital and waited.  About an hour later they came and told me my grandmother was dead.  Was it my fault, could I have done more?  This was six months after mommy died. 

My cousins husband came to NY and picked up his daughter and took her back to California.  We were the only ones left in the house.  I fixed the small bedroom in the attic into an office to write.  I would come home from work and put all I had into my novel.    The kids would be watching TV doing homework or at their friends houses. Mr. 23 would do the cooking and cleaning. It was a while before I knew he was getting high again. Mr. 23 was smoking crack and shortly after started do heroin again.   He would be in the basement doing his drugs and I would be in the attic smoking reefer and writing. It was people, places and things. We were in our old neighborhood. He was around the people he use to get high with.  I was on a mission to write a novel, publish and get rich.

After a while I took a second job at McDonald's.  I was gone most of the time.  I expected Mr. 23 to watch the kids,  he let them do what they wanted and my youngest just ran wild.  My oldest he started hearing voices and his behavior became odd.  He got arrested  twice in two weeks. One for shop lifting and second he was picked by this kid as the one to rob him of $10.  I used the last of the money I got from mother to bail him out and secure a private lawyer. Who did a a good job, only he wasn't able to get the charges sealed. He did six months on Rikers, that's the local jail. When he came home he was in and out of the hospital, and on every pshycotrobic medication.  He wouldn't take the medication.

One morning he came in after stealing my car and riding around all night.  He thought I called the police on him and he picked up a shovel and threaten to hit me with it.  I had a young girl living with me, her mother abandoned her.  So me and his sisters and the little girl went down stairs and got in the van and pulled off just as he smashed the rear window and driver's side window.  I drove us around the corner and called the police. When we drove back to the house I could see my son standing on the roof with the stick in his hand, the shovel part broke off in the car.  One of my step sons' friend was trying to talk my son down because the police were standing in the door way with a gun pointed up at him. He went into the hospital and got medicated. Mr. 23 years wasn't there, he arrived shortly after everything happened. He said someone called him and told him something happened.  I believe he was with the women he married.  This was before cell phones were affordable.

This cycle just kept going on and on. He got arrested again for robbing some one for like $10 this time they sent him upstate for 36 or 48 months I can't remember.  When he got home two weeks later he robed someone for their Walkman and sat right where he stole it from.  He got seven to fourteenr.   He's been home for a year and is now on lock down in rehab.  I pray for my son to lose this addiction that dictates his misjudgment and to let him get a life he never really had.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: No more spoons today

Me Verse Lupus: No more spoons today: "I'm up and dressed ready to go to my appointment, another test a Venous Doppler. They're going to take a sonogram of my leg to see if there ..."

No more spoons today

I'm up and dressed ready to go to my appointment, another test a Venous Doppler. They're going to take a sonogram of my leg to see if there are any blood clots. Hopefully I can get some of those compression socks on my insurance free. Those suckers cost $42 dollars from the medical supply store, but I found them at Amazon for $26 dollars same thing, no prescription needed. Tuesday I got a prescription for a portable nebulizer, insurance covers it, but not for the battery. It's a lithium, long life battery that cost  $130 well there goes my extra money for next month.

I had a dream last night, or was it this morning. I'm not sure I was sleeping.  I dreamt that my son and I were at Mr. 23 years house, he wasn't there. My son and I were laying around watching TV and on the other side of the room was a former job of mine. I went to my old desk and there were old cards, some old grapes that no one took out the draw.  One of my mates nieces was there and she was helping me clean the area.  Then I went to lay back and down to watch TV with my son. Mr. 23 years came in and we sat around talking, he  wanted to touch me and I kept pushing him away.  His wife came down the steps and I told her to come sit down. (Mind it was her house.) I tell her I don't want Mr. 23 years and I don't have a problem with her, that I'm glad she will be taking care of him for the rest of his life and that she is young enough to be there for him. Weird right?

I have weird dreams all the time.  I like them, I guess since I don't have a social life I live in my dreams. Can anyone interpret this dream? I would love to hear some feed back on this.  Barnes and Noble has a book on interpreting dreams in the metaphysical section, for my nook, of course it wasn't a free book or an under $5 book. And they updated the nook, now they have color and it's more like an ipad.

I'm shaking my head, companies are always trying to make money. What am I talking about, that's the American way.  Greed dictates this world, this way we have young boys killing and being killed during wars, right?

When we buried my mother we were at the grave site.  I purchased a flower pillow for inside the casket and wanted to take them home to Gran.  I had on heels and tried to bend into the grave to get it, I was afraid I was going to fall and knock the casket down.  My brother got for me.  They slowly started to lower mommys' casket.  Mommy is gone, I'm really grown now, were my thought. There's no one else who will love me unconditionally any more.  It's just me and my children.  Yea I I had and have my brother and sister. At that time we weren't close, I had Mr. 23 years all and all we've always had each other.  I turned and fell into his arms, and he held me. It felt so good, I felt safe, he was going to be there for me forever.  The women on my job, my surrogate mothers came over. They knew how I was struggling because of his drug habit.  He use to come up to the job, he was in the neighborhoods and people saw him.  These mothers grabbed me from him and held me. My new world was about to begin.

Got back home about two hours ago.  Boy am I tired.  I was suppose to have two test today, a Venous Doppler and an Artery something, to check for PAD, someone screwed up. I was scheduled for only one test. I have to go back for the Doppler and they are going to x-ray the arteries in my neck.  I don't know about all these x-rays' and radiation. This can't be good, I go tomorrow for another one, this of my chest with contrast to see if there are any blood clots in my lungs.

Anyway today I was finished at 10 am and Access-A-Ride  was scheduled to pick me up at 12:22 pm. Two hours, I didn't eat breakfast, hence, I didn't take my medication.  The closest store was 3 blocks away and there were stairs up to the shopping center or walk another block and through a parking lot.  I took the stairs.  The deli was actually a bagel shop.  Yea, yea, yea I passed the fruit and I passed the salads and  had a toasted onion bagel with a pinch of vegetable cream cheese.  I also had a 1/4 pound of chopped liver.  I drank my water. I sat there and ate my breakfast then walked the 3 blocks back.  I think the walking burned up most of the food I ate this morning.  Lets hope it burned the whopper with cheese my darling mate brought in last night.  I wasn't hungry, I ate it because it was there, and as if that wasn't enough I got full after eating half of it. Did I wrap it up and put it away?  Of course not.

My Access-A-Ride driver was one of my good friends' brothers'. Both will get a cameo later in my story of Mr. 23 year.  The driver and I did the nasty once or twice. Anyway he dropped me off at the supermarket.  I got some spinach, carrots, and apples to juice tomorrow night.  I got some grapes to freeze and snack on at night instead of potato chips.  I got some strawberries, I cut them up and put sugar on them to have with the cottage cheese I brought.  I got some tangerines and a few pears.  Okay this should help me drop some pounds quicker. I already lost 6 pounds.  Even though I might stray a bit I haven't had any cake, cookies or ice cream. I eat the chips but they are lightly salted and today I don't have any down here.

I made a toss salad and I put the rest of the chicken breast in it. Tomorrow when I get in I'll eat the rest of the salad with tuna.  I'm having a bagel tomorrow morning. I'm being picked up at 5:25 am, I'll eat a cup of fruit too.  Tonight I'm eating nothing but fruit.  I'm tired and don't plan on going back upstairs.  My mate has three cookies on the counter, chocolate chip. Boy do they smell good, but I won't eat them. I'll let you know if I was able to resist.

I will start telling my story in 2 days.  I'm tired now and tomorrow I will probably be really drained so I'm going to rest for the rest of the day. Did I mention it's 3 pm and I'm in my PJs' ready to sleep! As a spoonie, if anyone took the time to read that theory, I used up all my spoons today, and this morning I had a lot.

Me Verse Lupus: Lord Bless this house

Me Verse Lupus: Lord Bless this house: "Today must be a good day. I got up worked on a my medical emergency card, a birthday card and I permed my hair. A bit pissed off because my..."

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Me Verse Lupus: Lord Bless this house

Me Verse Lupus: Lord Bless this house: "Today must be a good day. I got up worked on a my medical emergency card, a birthday card and I permed my hair. A bit pissed off because my..."

Lord Bless this house

Today must be a good day. I got up worked on a my medical emergency card, a birthday card and I permed my hair.  A bit pissed off because my blow dryer gets over heated and stops working and it did this before my hair was dry, so now it's wrap. I wanted to curl it before I wrapped it. Oh well, who know when I'll have the energy to mess with my hair again. My mate and her mother went out this morning she had a a bunch of running around to do.  Her mother is back and she's not, she kept saying she needed to get her hair done, so that's probaly where she's at. There use to be a time when she use to take me with her. Those days are over.  Or she went to the bar, so a day alone as usual.

 Mr. 23 years called me today.  I thought he didn't want to talk to me after reading my blog. He says he reads it when he can, but his computer is broken. He has no problem with what I'm writing he says it's what it is. I told him about my health and how every time I go to the doctor I'm diagnosed with something else, I said it in such a cavalier attitude that he laughed and wondered why he's so healthy.  I told him it must of been all the drugs he did. He told me he missed getting high, but know the consequences.  I told him that his drug habit messed up both our lives, including the childrens'. My fault to I was an enabler.  He knows he can't get away with getting high now, he'll be on the streets for real, his wife won't put up with it.  She wouldn't let him live with her unless he married her.  After I tell my story further you'll understand that she did that, more then likely to spite me.

So back to my story.  Mr. 23s' friend asked if one of his brothers could rent my project apartment, I agreed.  Him and his wife moved in with their I think five, six or more kids, I don't know how many, it was a lot.  They were suppose to pay the rent.  I should of went and collected the rent from them.  They didn't pay the rent and got me evicted from the project and incurred a bill of over two thousand dollars.  One of the sons is playing for the NBA, you'd think he would pay me back the money. Yes, I paid the bill because it was garnished from my payroll.  I don't do favors no more.  I give and never get.  That's why I knew I wouldn't get anything from the SLE Lupus Foundation.  When I was going to group therapy one of the women was talking about family that was staying with her and not paying any rent and eating her food. She said they moved out and wanted to come back.  I told her don't do it.  Everyone thought I was funny when I went ballistic talking about people will take advantage of you. Mistaking your kindness for weakness. When they get on their feet and are doing well, they forget about you. I kept saying don't do it, don't!

Yes you want to help your family and friends, after all it's the right thing to do. Not! In the end you are the one who ends up losing.  All the help I've given over the years has me in this situation that I'm in today.  I don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.  I went in debt helping other people and come this March I may not be able to afford my medication when Medicare kicks in. Ain't life a bitch and then you die, for fucking real.  Oh! I'm still okay just a side track vent there.

We moved into my family house.  The house I grew up in. Where my sister and I played between the wall of windows and under the table, while Gran cooked dinner and watched her stories or Mike Douglas. The house where I use to sit on the couch in the living room and let my boyfriends finger me and feel my titties.  The house where my family use to get together for holidays and share good meals, drinks, and laughter.  The house where my aunt, who won the house in a palimony suite in1928,  died a year before I was born. Her body was laid out on the porch, and my grandmother stayed up all night watching the body. This is the aunt I was named after, my middle name. The house my uncle who had lung cancer use to smoke and cough all night, after coming in from the VFW Post, drunk. He died in the arms of my aunt, his sister, in his bed.  Where the same aunt for years use to read her Dick and Jane books trying to learn to read.  The house where my mother, after putting the trash out went and layed in her bed and had a heart attack.  This was the house, and forever will be the house.

This is a description of the house I grew up in:

Lord Bless This House

On any warm summer evening the setting sun would shine  on the multiple variety of colorful flowers that lined the curb and walk way.  The lawn green and freshly cut was watered in the morning to keep the sun from burning it during the day, on hot days the grass received an extra watering in the evening. A ‘keep off the grass’ sign wasn’t needed; you could hear Gran often yelling out the window, “Get off my grass!”  Even stray dogs knew better then to poop in front of the big house without a driveway, in the once quiet Jamaica neighborhood in Queens, NY. Two evergreens and one honeysuckle bush lined the front of the house beneath the three windows facing the west.  In the fall the flowers, grass and honeysuckle bushes turned yellow then brown.  The fallen leaves from the neighbor’s trees would cover the grass. In the winter snow covered it all, only to melt in the spring and the whole cycle would begin again.

Walk up five steps and wipe your feet on the worn mat that no longer said welcome and enter the enclosed porch. Over the three windows, that separated the porch and living room hung a plaque that asked the Lord to bless this house.  The hard wood floors were cleaned and scented with Murphy Oil. The screen covered windows allowed a breezed laced with the scent of honeysuckle to enter and blow the sheer curtains.  There was a wicker couch and chair set where mommy sat in the evenings drinking Papst Blue Ribbon and smoking Kent cigarettes, while my sister and I played punch ball in the street with the neighbor kids before it got dark. When street lights came on we’d play hide and seek.  Along the north window Gran’s house plants grew.  In the winter the plants were protected under plastic. Beige drapes with red flowers were hung to keep the cold out and the heat in. The door leading to the long hallway remained closed in the winter.

The hallway seemed long, especially since I was the one that had to sweep it after I swept the thirteen stairs.  I then would wipe the wooden base board with Pledge. The sun from the front door and south side stain glass windows gave the hallway a soft glow.  From the hallway I would enter the dining room.  The walls were a soft texture of bumps and holes painted an off white color.  The pattern of the hard wood floor was slanted and border with a square design with four triangles in the center.  A plastic table cloth covered the dining room table and a vase with red and white roses cut from the backyard use to rest in the center in the summer.  On one end of the table were a week’s worth of newspapers, at the other a folded white table cloth would be laid for the dinner each night. My sister or I would set the table for three. a fork was placed on top of a napkin, on the left of the plate, on the right close to the plate was a knife next to it was a spoon. A glass of milk was placed above the plate on the right. Dinner was served on a platter, or bowl depending on what Gran prepared.  

The buffet has a crystal stand and punch bowl that became home to open mail, phone messages and grocery store receipts.  A chair sat on the side of the buffet close to the hallway door, where we use to sit and talk on the black rotary phone.  On the other end was where Gran kept slips of paper to write her numbers to play.  Above the buffet was a mirror that we vainly used when sitting at the dining room table.  The china cabinet housed the fine china and crystal glasses, used only on holidays and when Aunt Mamie came to visit.

In the spring the area rugs were taken up, beaten, rolled and stored in the dark basement.  In the fall the rugs were placed back on the floor, fruit replaced the roses on the table and green drapes covered the windows. In winter the punch bowl was emptied, cleaned and filled with Grans’ fruit punch during the holidays.  The fresh fruits were replaces with nuts.

No eating or drinking in the living room, you could sit on the sofa bed couch or high back green chair to watch T.V. or to read a book.  There was a sealed fireplace, on the mantle photographs of relatives dead and alive were on display.  On the walls beside the chimney were two stain glass windows that brightened the living room during the day in any season.  My mother’s piano smelled of pledge, our school pictures were there. Gran’s stereo didn’t have an eight track or cassette, it had a radio and could play 33, 33 1/2, 45 and 78’s, you could hear it all through the house. The new RCA color TV, the green tint often needed adjusting, sat on top of the old black and white console.  Three windows looked out to the porch, during the summer the windows were open to let the breeze from the porch in.  In the winter they were covered by itchy red and white drapes. On Christmas Eve Aunt Thelma and Uncle Vernon would arrive to take us to pick out a live Christmas tree that we decorated with ornaments that weathered many Christmas.  The smell of the pine would filled the house.

The kitchen never had any dirty dishes except on Thanksgiving and Christmas.  There was always a meal cooking, fried chicken, fried liver and onions, lima beans and smoke neck bones, beef stew or spaghetti.  In the summer there would be fresh corn, carrots, green peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes from Gran’s garden. On New Year’s Eve chitterlings stunk up the whole house.  There was a table in the center of the kitchen. Each night Uncle’s dinner was in a pie dish on top of a pot of water so it could be heated up when he came in from the VFW at night.  Every meal included rice, even if there were potatoes.

There was a toilet in the basement; the door that enclosed it had glass windows with decals of naked women. The only full bathroom was upstairs.  There were three racks and two hooks behind the door for towels and wash clothes, a matching toilet seat cover, tank and floor rug around the toilet. There was a rug on the floor by and one draped over the porcelain bath tub. The tiles on the wall were painted light blue with flat paint.  The tiles on the floor were small, white and rectangular and were laid without any specific pattern.  The bathroom always smelled of pine.

The bedroom next to the bathroom was my brother’s room, they had twin beds, with checkered red bedspreads, and there were two windows in their room, one facing east, and one facing north. The next bedroom was Uncle’s, his room was neat, a twin bed with a white bedspread, two dressers, and one with cologne he never used.  There was a window in his room. He had a thirteen inch black and white T.V. that he let my sister and me watch after school.  Uncle’s room always smelled of stale cigarettes and liquor.

The master bedroom was Aunt Dale’s room.  She had three west windows, and one on the north and south side of the room. She had twin beds, one for guest. She had a big black safe in her room. My aunt went to night school every year to learn to read. In the evening she would ask me to help read her Dick and Jane books.  Aunt Dale never learned to read, I suspect she was dyslectic.  She wasn’t crazy like Gran use to say; after all she owned that big house and managed to keep the lights, water and heat on in the winter. She couldn’t read but she could count very well.

The attic was where Gran, mommy, my sister and I slept. Gran had a little room with a little north side window, a closet that was stuffed with clothes.  She had newspapers, notebooks filled with numbers and Bible books stacked in one corner.  Another dresser with two jewelry boxes full of costume jewelry and her pearls.  A coffee table cluttered with an ashtray for her chesterfields, a radio so she could hear the Yankees play, scraps of paper to jot down her numbers.  It was hard to open Gran’s door because of the clothing she hung up behind it.

The hallway was short up there; there was wooden rail and a little crawl closet where trunks of clothes, old toys and books were stored.  My brother had a huge collection of first edition Marvel comic books and baseball cards that Aunt Dale threw away, not knowing the value.

The room my sister and I shared with my mother was big. Mommy had a full size bed by the west window, the area was an alcove.  She had a long console T.V. that had a radio. It didn’t work so it was used as a dresser.  She had stacks of magazines on the floor.  At night she would put on classical music for us to go to sleep to, or we would listen to Sally Jessie Raphael talk show.

Our area of the room was big and mommy didn’t care how we changed the beds around, they were bunk beds that we stacked and sometimes put side to side.  There were two metal closets and two dressers in the room, one for mommy and one for us. There were also two deep closets, one mommy kept her clothes in; it was home to the squirrels in the winter. The other deep closet my sister and I often played in with a flash light.

This was home for 44 years even when I moved out, I could always come back home. I did right after mommy died to stay with Gran.  I moved in with my husband and three teenagers, the old house couldn’t handle them running up and down the stairs.  The patched repairs became unglued and the house deteriorated. My income couldn’t keep up, the house that I love so, became a monster. I got a loan and repairs were made, I stayed. Rising insurance rated, oil, water, electricity bills, I was struggling. Now I understood why my house had an extended family when I was growing up.

My Aunt Willie died a year before I was born, I was named after her. She won the house in a palimony suit from John Elwood in 1914.  In 2004 in the shadow of the Middle East upheaval I sold Aunt Willie’s house to an Arab and Jew. I felt shame and disgrace that I couldn’t keep our family house.

I packed the dining room table, the china cabinet and our vanity mirror.  I tried to take out the stain glass windows but the wood was too old and the first one cracked.  I packed all the mementos I could, everything was put in storage. I swept each room gathered my bags on the porch. The sun didn’t shine through the west window that afternoon, it was raining and my heart was breaking.  I walked the buyer through the house, I looked at each room for the last time, I could hear the ghost of laughter, I could hear the pipes clank and smell the oil burn when the heat first comes on for the year.  I could feel the house rock when the wind blew. I could hear the Yankee game being announced over the radio.  I could hear Aunt Dale reading ‘see Dick run, see Jane run.’ I could hear Uncle snoring.  I could smell the pine from Christmas trees, and stinking chitterlings.  As I walked through each room on that gloomy summer afternoon, I felt my heart sink deeper and cried for hours after I said good bye to my old friend.