Lovely little sentiment...

I found another truncated verse meme and posted about it:    

Here's another truncated verse meme. SIGH.

The actual verse is: " I have set the Lord continually before me; because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken."

By including the entirety of the verse, the emphasis shifts from the individual to God. You can also see the parallelism here. Setting God before you strengthens you.

But let's look at the whole psalm:

Preserve me, O God, for I take refuge in Thee.
I said to the LORD, "Thou art my Lord;
I have no good besides Thee."
As for the saints who are in the earth,
They are the majestic ones in whom is all my delight.
The sorrows of those who have bartered for another god will be multiplied;
I shall not pour out their libations of blood,
Nor shall I take their names upon my lips.

The LORD is the portion of my inheritance and my cup;
Thou dost support my lot.
The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;
Indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me.

I will bless the LORD who has counseled me;
Indeed, my mind instructs me in the night.
I have set the LORD continually before me;
Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices;
My flesh also will dwell securely.
For Thou wilt not abandon my soul to Sheol;
Neither wilt Thou allow Thy Holy One to undergo decay.
Thou wilt make known to me the path of life;
In Thy presence is fulness of joy;
In Thy right hand there are pleasures forever.

~Psalm 16 (NASB 1977)
Setting God before you strengthens you, yes, but the larger message is that we are sustained and strengthened and satiated when we have our refuge in God.

Or maybe you would put it another way.

To me, the point is to embrace the fullness of Scripture. Please do not take out slivers of verses and represent them as the whole. And please read around the verses and even the chapters ... especially before you create your "inspiring" meme.

Later, I was sitting there thinking about this and it struck me that I spotted both of the truncated verses because they were from my beloved Psalter.  I know that book of the Bible so well.  However, surely when it comes to truncated-verse-meme-making, psalm verses are not the only ones truncated for ... well ... editing for effect.

What was the intended effect in this one?  The group it was posted in was one for chronic illness.  Since living with chronic illness is a battle, I suppose "I will not be shaken" is a good message for the intended audience.  But when I look at the rest of the verse, it is as if the meme creator stripped God right out of the verse.  If that is the case, then why quote a bible verse in the first place?

But, back to my earth-shattering realization ... just how many of the bible verse memes how there might have been edited for effect on intended audience?  For that matter, how about bible verses in devotionals and bible studies?  How many of those might be truncated?  These days, with fact-checking and editing on the decline, I wouldn't be surprised if the answer is a whole heck of a lot of verses.

Lest I forget to take the log out of my own I, I will admit that there is a verse that I often share only in part.  I do so because of emphasis.  And it is such a lovely little sentiment.  When I share it, as I do if ever  ever sharing just part of a verse, I try to make clear that there are missing parts either by using a letter with the verse reference number or using ellipsis or both.  

What verse do I find myself truncating?  Act 17:28.  "For in him we move and breathe and have our very being."  Well, that's how I learned it in a bible study.  The first two parts are not exactly accurate since breathing is not even mentioned (though it was back in verse 25).  However, if you look at all the translations, it is clear that someone added the word "very" for emphasis.  As what is often common is to take phrasing from more than one translation and create a bit of a mash-up.

for in him we live and move and have our being.' As some of your own poets have said, 'We are his offspring.' (NIV)


for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His offspring.’ (NASB)


for in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring. (KJV)


for “‘In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your own poets have said, “‘For we are indeed his offspring.’ (ESV)

For in Him we live and move and are.' As also some of the poets among you have said, 'For we are also His offspring.' (BLB)


But if you actually set aside how lovely a sentiment it is to be able to share (for in Him we move and breathe and have our very being), something you might note amongst the different translations is the punctuation differences.  To comma or not to comma!  And, if looking carefully at the punctuation, you might notice different sets of quotation marks.

Yep, sadly, my own truncating (in my defense I truncate because I learned it this way), there was even more truncating taking place.  You see, this half line that has such a lovely sentiment that is oh, so quotable is actually part a sermon.  Yes, well, certainly one ought not to go around truncating sermons!


And Paul stood in the midst of the Areopagus and said, “Men of Athens, I observe that you are very religious in all respects. “For while I was passing through and examining the objects of your worship, I also found an altar with this inscription, ‘TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.’ What therefore you worship in ignorance, this I proclaim to you. “The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands; neither is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all life and breath and all things; and He made from one, every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times, and the boundaries of their habitation, that they should seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His offspring.’ “Being then the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Divine Nature is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and thought of man.  “Therefore having overlooked the times of ignorance, God is now declaring to men that all everywhere should repent, because He has fixed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness through a Man whom He has appointed, having furnished proof to all men by raising Him from the dead.” (Acts 17:22-31 NASB 1977)

Now, I am not going to start an exegesis of Paul's sermon on Mars Hill.  I cannot even begin to go down that road.  But I can say that the point of the sermon was not the lovely sentiment.  The point of the sermon was to share the Good News of Jesus Christ.  

But, really, I think we should back up even further from where we started.

Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was being provoked within him as he was beholding the city full of idols. So he was reasoning in the synagogue with the Jews and the God-fearing Gentiles, and in the market place every day with those who happened to be present.And also some of the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers were conversing with him. And some were saying, “What would this idle babbler wish to say?” Others, “He seems to be a proclaimer of strange deities,”—because he was preaching Jesus and the resurrection. And they took him and brought him to the Areopagus, saying, “May we know what this new teaching is which you are proclaiming? “For you are bringing some strange things to our ears; we want to know therefore what these things mean.” (Now all the Athenians and the strangers visiting there used to spend their time in nothing other than telling or hearing something new.)

And Paul stood in the midst of the Areopagus and said, “Men of Athens, I observe that you are very religious in all respects. “For while I was passing through and examining the objects of your worship, I also found an altar with this inscription, ‘TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.’ What therefore you worship in ignorance, this I proclaim to you. “The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands; neither is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all life and breath and all things; and He made from one, every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times, and the boundaries of their habitation, that they should seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His offspring.’ “Being then the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Divine Nature is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and thought of man.  “Therefore having overlooked the times of ignorance, God is now declaring to men that all everywhere should repent, because He has fixed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness through a Man whom He has appointed, having furnished proof to all men by raising Him from the dead.”

Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some began to sneer, but others said, “We shall hear you again concerning this.” So Paul went out of their midst. But some men joined him and believed, among whom also were Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris and others with them. (Acts 17:16-34 NASB 1977).


Gosh, now we are looking at some context, eh?  It wasn't that Paul was reaching out for a local reference.  He was preaching the Good News whilst pointing out a grievous error in the ways of the folk of Athens.  We are certainly no longer on this narrow focus of God as the author and creator of our lives.

And, now, let's take another step back and look at the whole chapter:

Now when they had traveled through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue of the Jews. And according to Paul’s custom, he went to them, and for three Sabbaths reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and giving evidence that the Christ had to suffer and rise again from the dead, and saying, “This Jesus whom I am proclaiming to you is the Christ.” And some of them were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, along with a great multitude of the God-fearing Greeks and a number of the leading women. But the Jews, becoming jealous and taking along some wicked men from the market place, formed a mob and set the city in an uproar; and coming upon the house of Jason, they were seeking to bring them out to the people. And when they did not find them, they began dragging Jason and some brethren before the city authorities, shouting, “These men who have upset the world have come here also; and Jason has welcomed them, and they all act contrary to the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, Jesus.” And they stirred up the crowd and the city authorities who heard these things. And when they had received a pledge from Jason and the others, they released them.

And the brethren immediately sent Paul and Silas away by night to Berea; and when they arrived, they went into the synagogue of the Jews. Now these were more noble-minded than those in Thessalonica, for they received the word with great eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily, to see whether these things were so. Many of them therefore believed, along with a number of prominent Greek women and men. But when the Jews of Thessalonica found out that the word of God had been proclaimed by Paul in Berea also, they came there likewise, agitating and stirring up the crowds. And then immediately the brethren sent Paul out to go as far as the sea; and Silas and Timothy remained there. Now those who conducted Paul brought him as far as Athens; and receiving a command for Silas and Timothy to come to him as soon as possible, they departed. 

Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was being provoked within him as he was beholding the city full of idols. So he was reasoning in the synagogue with the Jews and the God-fearing Gentiles, and in the market place every day with those who happened to be present.And also some of the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers were conversing with him. And some were saying, “What would this idle babbler wish to say?” Others, “He seems to be a proclaimer of strange deities,”—because he was preaching Jesus and the resurrection. And they took him and brought him to the Areopagus, saying, “May we know what this new teaching is which you are proclaiming? “For you are bringing some strange things to our ears; we want to know therefore what these things mean.” (Now all the Athenians and the strangers visiting there used to spend their time in nothing other than telling or hearing something new.)

And Paul stood in the midst of the Areopagus and said, “Men of Athens, I observe that you are very religious in all respects. “For while I was passing through and examining the objects of your worship, I also found an altar with this inscription, ‘TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.’ What therefore you worship in ignorance, this I proclaim to you. “The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands; neither is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all life and breath and all things; and He made from one, every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times, and the boundaries of their habitation, that they should seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His offspring.’ “Being then the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Divine Nature is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and thought of man.  “Therefore having overlooked the times of ignorance, God is now declaring to men that all everywhere should repent, because He has fixed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness through a Man whom He has appointed, having furnished proof to all men by raising Him from the dead.”

Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some began to sneer, but others said, “We shall hear you again concerning this.” So Paul went out of their midst. But some men joined him and believed, among whom also were Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris and others with them. (Acts 17 NASB 1977).

Holy cow!  Are we ever far away from that lovely little sentiment!  We're in the middle of a missionary journey and how God caused His word to move out from Calgary across the world, using, incidentally, one of the biggest critics of His Son to do so!  

I know it is increasingly unpopular to write the lengthy post, to read the lengthy passage, to actually wait whilst folk pick up a bible and flip to a passage and read along with you.  However, that act is so very important.  Sometimes, you will see a passage printed out in a bulletin or devotional, but that still draws one away from the bigger picture and takes that first tiny step toward truncating.  A step that, for me, led to this whole bible study on how to live for God since He is the author and creator of our lives.  It is not that serving God is not a laudable area of study, but it is not the point of that one half of Act 17:28.

And, to be honest, I couldn't tell you that until right this very moment because all these years I knew I have been truncating the verse, but I never went back and took the time to read all around it to understand how badly distorted I was presenting the verse.  

Pot.  

Kettle.  

Black.

Even if the passage is faithfully printed out for the reader, the rest of the context is still missing.  And having the passage pulled out of context does not encourage the reader to go delve into the Bible herself/himself to see what else is there.

Now, I am not saying that it is not useful or even appropriate at times to pull out a verse (or two or three) to use to teach, to reprove, to build up.  I am actually a huge fan of scripture memorization and believe the Church would be much better off if we brought that back for all ages, both instructionally and socially (e.g., Have a cross-generational scripture memory contest at the next pot luck!).  But I do have greater and greater concern that the scripture memes popping up on social media might actually be doing harm ... at least with regards to biblical literacy if not spiritual harm.

I wonder ... you have the promise that God's Word doesn't return void (Isaiah 55:11), but is it actually God's Word if its been edited for emphasis or audience or framing a lovely little sentiment??

A thinking moment...

I have been really ill.  Not being a doctor, I have finally realized that I am 99.99% sure that I am having an allergy flare.  I spent much of my life in the throes of allergies, to the point of having to have four shots a week.  However, since moving north, where there were real winters, I slowly left that part of my life behind.  Well, actually, I traded it for asthma.  SIGH.

I had heard that Indiana was a hefty allergy zone.  I scoffed.  However, each May/June, I sneeze and groan and try to pretend that I do not have an allergy problem again.  This year, I caved.  I took meds that, in the past, were my Go-To drugs.  Only my STUPID BP/HR spiking problem reared its head.  Dysautonomia strikes again.  I cannot have a decongestant.

I switched to just the plain version.  No more sneezing (for about 22 of the 24-hour period).  No more painful throat.  No more coughing.  No more stuff nose.  Only, I am not sleeping and I feel just plain wretched.

I fetched the milk today, along with other things, so at least I am feeling wretched in milk contentment.  And I swapped out the generic brand of allergy medicine to my most favorite generic brand.  Here's hoping that tomorrow is a better day.

I did have a thinking moment today.  

Oh, how I miss my brain.  

SIGH.

I posted my thoughts on Facebook, to no avail.  I probably should stop trying to be a thinking person anymore ... especially there.  The up side, though, is that birthday present book is surpassing all my hopes and dreams for it gave me a thinking moment!!

This is my Facebook post:

I am already GREATLY reveling in CS Lewis' Reflection on the Psalms. In the introduction, he addresses a few things that come into play here ... with why something like this is just plain WRONG.

In this let's-put-scripture-with-imagery-so-I-can-drum-up-some-"likes" meme from Facebook, the person making it decided to just ditch the rest of the verse. I believe she chose the NIV translation (not a favorite of mine): "He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart."

You see there, she gutted the verse!

Things Lewis reminds us: 1) Psalms are poems, lyrical in nature and need to be viewed as such so as not to read more into them or less out of them. 2) Hebrew poetry (as is much poetry) is often based on parallelism. You have things stated twice, things that are not neccesisarily cause/effect related, but in a corollary sense. 3) Being lyrical in nature, the Psalms are meant to be on the tongue and in the hear, not merely in the eye.

Sure, the artwork is pretty and the imagery is captured somewhat, but what pretty little blue bird is a shield or rampart? I'm pretty certain that if someone wanted to capture this, maybe it should be of a baby eagle in a smelly, poopy, food-filled nest. There, where beneath pinions and the wings of their parents, eaglets are protected and their every need is tirelessly tended to when they are vulnerable to the trials and travails of life in a fallen world.

Of course, we tend to live in a world where consumerism has taught scripture marketers that folk wants verses to be all soft and fluffy and don't mind them being truncated at all ... especially in bible studies.

SIGH.

An unexpected blessing...

Been a crazy ill day, much of it.  Lots of lying on the floor.  Lots of symptoms all at once instead just a few here and there ... my preferred, more manageable endurable existence.

I got to talk with Becky, twice, though, which is always cheering.  And I watched/listened to this:




This is absolutely worth an hour of your time.  Heck, you really should be paying to hear such a thought-provoking discussion.

Something that struck me in here is his story about looking at his then 14-year-old and seeing that she was on a road (or in a rut) of consumerism, so he shipped her off to a cattle farm to learn about work. He sees value in a life that has known some privation rather than to have experienced only wealth and ease. Not, mind you, that he and his wife are wealthy, but in the sense that all Americans, in comparison to much of the world, are fantastically wealthy.

When I twelve-years-old, I started cleaning houses for money.  At twelve-yeras-old, I knew how to clean so well that my mother's interior design clients and friends hired me. The why behind my needing to earn money is negative, but I was profoundly blessed with the gift of understanding the value of labor at such a young age. Later on, during the pursuit of all three college degrees, one of the ways I avoided having to take out student loans until the final year of my Ph.D. was to to clean houses. And that work ethic stands by me now, even when my body has failed me, still striving to do what I can do, because their is still a blessing in the labor of my hands.

As an ex-college professor, I absolutely wouldn't have become "ex" if I was part of an education system that he envisions, a multi-layered, multi-modal affair where the values of learning and of work feed off of each other.

There is oh, so much good stuff in here!  I plan on watching it again when I am less ill and better able to concentrate.  Still, this was an unexpected blessing in a rather trying day.

Just be there...

Today was a bit of a productive day in that I caught up on filing and bill paying.  And, despite my showering myself with 50th birthday presents, a whole lot of number crunching.  I want to be really clear about where I stand come June 4th and getting to the end of the year in catch-up mode.

I did part of that out in my haven after I finished my meal.  Yep, I made a pulled chicken barbecue sandwich using the Spicy Dr Pepper Barbecue Sauce I made yesterday.  And one of the lemon cookies.  Gosh, does Krusteaz ever make the BESTEST lemon cookie mix!

One of the best parts of being outside, two days in a row after EONS of days of rain, was hearing my wind chimes.  They are exactly what I wanted:  ones that made lovely and gentle music.  I was a tad worried because they are not as large as the ones on the front porch.  My front porch wind chimes warm the cockles of my heart and satiate my soul.  I was worried there might not be cockle warming and satiating, but there was.

There is.
There will be.
BLISS.

Yesterday, I started a new medication, my 38th.  Normally, I would not be all that excited about adding to my regimen, especially since keeping track of everything and what needs to be taken when is draining, but, in this case, I am thankful that my new GP was open to me trying it.

Even alone, I feel gross having to eat with a box of tissue next to me.  It's so very frustrating that something as simple as eating means a nose that will drip all over my food.  The thought of eating in public has been overwhelming, even when that public would be my dear friends and my sister.

The nasal atrovent seems to be working really well.  I can take it up to four times a day, but, so far, twice a day seems sufficient.  I would like it to keep working at that dosage, because my other nasal medication is twice a day.  It would be easier to manage them if I could off-set them.  Anything to make my medication management more manageable. 

I also went up on the baclofen.  I would really like more pain relief with the spasticity in the back of my legs, but this increase has packed a wallop.  I am really drowsy and dizzy.  However, since the side effects I felt starting the medication and then the last increase went away, I am hopeful that will be the case.  What concerns me is that this higher does seems to make my infernally slow bowels a bit slower.  That was why my last GP never even told me about the drug.  It bugs me that she didn't, but with her words in mind, I am going to need to watch my output even more closely than my normal vigilance.

Two days ago, I had a trigeminal neuralgia flare.  I went 19 days since my last flare, so having one after so long was good and yet it was hard.  I am hoping the increase in baclofen, even if not helping my legs any more, might continue to help the trigeminal neuralgia, maybe even keep it further at bay. So, my drowsiness and dizziness is almost welcome just now.  At least for a little while.

Earlier, I was preparing for tonight's freeze.  I brought in all the succulents that I had migrated from the solarium to the front porch.  And I covered the raised beds and the rosemary bushes that are in the pots out in my haven.  To cover the plants in the raised beds, I needed stakes to tent the sheets a bit.  So, I cut some bamboo stakes into smaller pieces.  With the last cut, I was struggling to get through one of the bumps that you see on bamboo and ended up crushing one of my finger tips.

I Googled and learned there was not much to be done, other than to take pain killers and to try to control the swelling.  If the nail gets bad later, I can have a hole pricked in it.  The problem with controlling the swelling is that I cannot put ice on my finger.  With the Reynaud's, I could develop frost bite, chilblains at best.

I really mashed my finger something good.
SIGH.

Tonight, I watched the last episode of Blue Bloods, "The Thin Blue Line."  In it, Danny was talking to his father, who had told him to go downstairs and be with his family.  Danny protested, "I don't know what to say to them."  His father replied, "You don't have to say anything.  You just have to be there."

Best. Advice. EVER.

This applies to just about every situation where someone is going through a rough time, house burning down (like what happened on the show), death of a loved one, catastrophic illness, depression, etc.  You do not have to know what to say.  Just be there.  Not being alone in such times is a greater gift than any words you might hear.  I know.  Trust me.  I know.

Sunshine...

Sunshine!!

Today, for the first time in eight days, we had sunshine!

In this photo of the wind chimes above the table in my have, you can see the blue, blue, blue sky!

Here is the updated view from my have, with the trees filled out.

This is the meal that I had out there today.

And here is the tray that I used to carry my meal out to my have!  My realtor left it for me as a surprise when she dropped off a few items that I asked her to fetch me from COSTCO, since I am not renewing my membership until the end of May.

I left her some of the lemon cookies you see on my tray and some of the rosemary butter as a thank you for shopping for me.  COSTCO has a two-pack of goat milk cheese that is just about a dollar more than a single log of it is in the regular grocery store.  A great bargain, especially for someone who eats quite a bit of the stuff.

Here is the updated view from my back steps.  The first round of grass seed that Firewood Man put down in the bare spots from the sidewalk excavation are growing up nicely.  There is still a lot of bare ground, but little fuzzies are spread out enough to make it look a bit GREENER than it appears.  Last week, Tim put down some more grass seed, but then we had all that torrential rain.  I do not have high hopes for those poor little seeds, but I did go out and whisper sweet nothings to them today, encouraging them to persevere now that they had a bit of sun.

I had planned a day of rest, rest, and more rest, but my dear friend Caryl posted a recipe to my Facebook wall, knowing I would jump right on it!

This is Spicy Dr. Pepper Barbecue Sauce.  It's my first ever barbecue sauce.  AND IT HAS DR PEPPER IN IT!!  I did tweak the recipe right from the get go.  It needed some spicy to go with all the sweet.  And more salt, for certain.  Tomorrow, I am planning a barbecue chicken sandwich out in my haven ... if the sunshine continues!

A new recipe...

Here it is, 3:43 AM, and I am battling my body.  My first thought is that I am being punished for taking a day for myself, but I know that is not true.  This is simply the norm of my life.

Right now, my cheeks are burning hot, so hot that it is difficult to concentrate.  When I am with someone (not that I am just now), I find myself losing track of the conversation.  In part, I feel like a freak with my red face.  Each time the flushing gets this bad, the vessels in my skin are being damaged.  That is why I have dark red streaks in my red patches and why I have red patches in the first place.  In part, the heat in my skin is just so very hot. I sit there thinking how odd it is that my face is on fire.

Right now, it feels as if there is something in my right eye.  Something big and terrible.  For days now, it has felt like I have paper cuts on my eyeballs.  When I blink, it feels as if I am being cut anew.  Now, it is as if, on top of the pain, I have some sort of eyelash or something in there.  I know in my head that I do not.  But my eyeballs are insisting that something needs to be pulled out and pulled out now.

Right now, my head is aching.  It is a funny headache, that is a circle atop my head.  And it is, for however weird this sounds, a sweet pain.  I feel as if my blood sugar is low, but I checked.  It is, for me, high.  I often feel like crap when my blood sugar is high.  I feel my best when it is between 90 and 110.  Below 90 and I get sicker and sicker.  My 70 is other's 50 or 40.  But I like to live in that magical zone where I have no funny circle headache atop my head, no nausea, no weakness, no trembling, no extra agitation.

Right now, I am battling violent waves of nausea.  When they first strike, it is as if I am being tossed by the waves and cannot swim to the surface for air.  It takes a while for me get my bearing, to figure out which direction is up.  When I am overwhelmed, I rarely remember to take the Zofran.  It takes a while for me to find my way to be able to take that breath and begin to escape the nausea.

Right now, I am battling dizziness.  Georgie keeps firing and I have tremendous pressure in my neck, key indicators my blood pressure is low.  I'd check, but the meter is upstairs and I am downstairs.  Downstairs waiting for the Zofran to get me to the point where I can move and at least curl up with Amos in my bed.

Right now, I have blocks of ice for feet.  All this blasted rain has made it a bit cold and my feet think that a bit cold means arctic.  I have them in my best wool socks and resting on a heating pad, with two blankets on top of them.  It is really difficult to move around in nausea agony when you have to keep your feet flat on a heating pad.  I want my bed, where my foot warmer at least allows me to roll over and over as I try to escape the nausea and where I can turn it up to roast.

Right now, I am afraid.  Tomorrow (today), is a doctor appointment in the area of my body for which I have the most shame.  I have had two days where I believe I've had a hormone surge like before I started hormones and I am worried that 1) the new brand of hormones is not working for me and 2) that we won't be able to control my hormones during menopause.

But I am also ... well ... this doctor likes me.  She calls me courageous.  And she listens.  Even when I have just finished screaming and weeping my way through an exam and am caught in the throes of a meltdown ... even when I know I'll be cutting in the car just to get myself home ... I feel ... oh, crap ... I DON'T KNOW WHAT I FEEL.  I just know that it is good.  That I leave simultaneously drowning in shame and glad that I was there.

I am afraid of what is going on with my body.
I am afraid of what might go on with my mind.
I am afraid of what is happening with my eyes.

SIGH.

But I took charge of my life for a few hours today.  Whilst awaiting the refrigerator warranty repairman, I started cooking.  I made sun-dried tomato chicken meatballs and baked oatmeal and lemon cookies.  I also, for the first time since the end of January, tried a new recipe:  Chilorio!

It is pork that you start by cooking in orange juice and water.

And then you cook it in ancho pepper sauce.

You put the pulled pork back in the pot and cook it in the sauce.

You cook it until the sauce is almost all absorbed.  And you have this incredible pot of tastiness!

Then you can roll it up in a fresh, warm tortilla, along with some avocado, seasoned with sea salt, peppercorn medley, and a little bit of lime juice.  You might be better at rolling than I am.  But, even if your tortillas crack, it will still taste amazing.  Like some sort of blend between Mexican food and barbecue.  Mmmmm!

I also made two quarts each of Gatorade, tea, and lemon cucumber water.  It was a busy, busy day.  But it was a good one.  Not just because it was a productive day.  Not just because I was able to DO SOMETHING.  No, it was a good day because I was able to explore a new recipe.

And jammed to John Denver.

Difficult things...

Another birthday present I got for myself arrived today.  You can see one of the two skirts in the photo that were also a present.

I cannot believe that I lost this CD.  Nor can I believe that I never ripped it to my computer.  Also unfathomable is that I forgot that I discovered the missing CD and only just remembered it again.  You see, I realized I hadn't yet heard John Denver in my haven!!

Tonight, I was able to take him along on my Amos walk.  We did not leave until near dark, because I had a long, long, long day.  There I was, basking in the warmth and gentleness that is John Denver's Greatest Hits, and I discovered the problem with taking John Denver on an Amos walk:  It is impossible for me not to sing along with Mr. Denver.  Singing and walking are both asthma inducing activities for myself.  Sadly, I think that, from now on, John Denver has to stay home.

I cannot wait until Becky gets here.
She'll belt out Denver with me.
In my haven.

I found some large pipe wind chimes for my haven.  They are not quite as large as I wanted, but they have a beautiful tone to them.  Not quite as rich and striking as the ones on my front porch, but soothing.  I can barely hear them from the back porch, but I think that less might be more when it comes to chimes out in my having.  At least I am hoping that is the case.

As I have learned with some of my other wind chimes, placement is everything.  I am not sure I have them hung to their best advantage.  If only the rain would stop and I could see.  It's been raining and raining raining.  We had a tiny break today, but have more storms coming, with more flood advisories.

I am not sure what day it was, but the other day I came home to three Roto-Rooter trucks on my block, one just across the street.  I am so very, very, very thankful that my basement remains dry.  Six years hear and I still struggle with the trauma of having to empty out my basement in Alexandria.  It is just so discouraging to walk down and find several inches of water in your home.  It is not something you easily stop fearing.

It is like my cabinets.  The kitchen cabinets in Alexandria started to come away from the wall after they were hung ... after they were hung and filled.  It was shocking and terrifying to see.  I was certain they would fall upon me if I tried to save all my dishes.  I managed to get everything out and call for help.  I had to pay for the cabinets to be installed a second time, which is rather annoying.  To this day, I regularly check the security of the cabinets whenever I am in a kitchen.  Are they still touching the wall?

Instead of a photo of another cooked sandwich, I thought I would take a pre-cooking one.  Tonight, looking for something to ... distract me ... I decided to up my "melt" game.  This is a chicken bacon avocado melt, with white cheddar cheese and extra sharp cheddar.  I seasoned the avocado mash with sea salt, peppercorn medley, and smoked tomato.  I wish that I had some of Panera's sun-dried tomato basil bread to really elevate this sandwich, but I think that it it was pretty darned good on sourdough bread.

One of the birthday gift ideas I've had is this panini maker I've been looking at for eons.  I actually forgot about it when making my list.  Ever since I started making melts, I have hankered for a panini maker, even though I am not so interested in being a huge sandwich person since I do limit my carbohydrates and focus on protein, but this is a pretty good little one that saves space and yet has some oomph to it.  The reviews are good on several sites.  I haven't showered myself with it yet, but I still have a month to go!

I did order another present.  It is a book by CS Lewis on the Psalter.  An old book.  A forgotten book. I do not know anything about the book, but CS Lewis is a great writer and the Psalter is pretty much the greatest book in the Bible to me, so I don't think I have much to lose on this small purchase.  Being sent via media mail, it is going to be a bit slow in coming.  A time of blissful anticipation??

Today was difficult for me.

I had my second meeting with my new GP.  She took quite a bit of time with me, which was so kind and merciful.  She also was really, really, really specific about what could get me fired, because I am just so worried about that.  Basically, all I have to do is not make her staff cry over mean words.  I think I have that covered.  What I didn't tell her, though, is that was pretty much the very same words my old new GP told me.  I remain afraid.

We talked about some difficult things.

When I arrived, she said she had been thinking about me.  She couldn't remember my real name to look up when I might be coming, but then she finally remembered that Parkview would let her look me up by my nickname.  I thought it was sweet that she was thinking of me.

We talked of some difficult things.
And I spiraled downward from there.

At the checkout desk, which I somehow missed the first time around, the staff has a cup of positive thoughts.  I thought that is a really great idea.  The word "gardener" caught my eye, so I pulled out that quote:

"Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, not the composer." ~Geoffrey B. Charlesworth

We talked of some difficult things.

And I spiraled downward from there.

And everyone I called did not answer the phone.  Again.

I had four reminders to remind me that today and tomorrow were a possible meltdown days.  I think that having that in my mind helped, but it also didn't.  I left and kept thinking about what I said, not so much in shame, but in ... darkness.  I was frustrated because I would have been weeping but I am so low on tears that it takes a whole lot for ones to drip out of my eyes ... and not enough to travel down my cheeks.  

The emotions and thoughts were so overwhelming that I needed to cut.  I tried to call a friend to help distract me, to help get me through the storm, but once again I couldn't reach anyone.  And all I could think is that I simply do not have a support system, not the kind that I need.  And I doubt I ever will.  I thought not being able to reach anyone was crushing two months ago.  It was worse today.

In the midst of my drowning, I posted on Facebook, fairly baldly, because I was hoping someone would reach out to me.  No one did.  Not even later on.  I admit that I am drowning in loneliness.

I finally reached my sister.  She didn't understand why I called earlier or what I wanted.  I couldn't really explain to her, although I tried.  But it didn't matter.  She was having a hellacious day and poured out all this stuff that helped to pause my storm.  Then I cooked. Then my sister called on her way back from where she had to go.  I told her about my sandwich.  When we hung up.  I settled down to clutching Amos.

The other day, we talked about some difficult things.

My sister remembers my father coming to take my uncle out of our bed.  She remembers nothing else.  Was she sleeping?  Why do I want her to remember?  Are not sleeping dogs best left to lie undisturbed?

Mr. Slim Jim...

I was a Nervous Nelly about Amos' annual check-up.  I've been watching him lose weight since last year and the amount has worried me.  His little body has changed so very much.  He's all ribs and spine now.  Not grossly so, mind you, but Amos is a much different puppy dog now.

Now, Amos had become quite a bit of a chunky monkey.  In fact, since the moment I got him until last May, all Amos had done is gain weight.  Two years ago, the vet suggested we drop Amos' food down from 1.5 cups to 1 cup.  That didn't make a difference.  So, at last year's appointment, when Amos topped out at 26.7 pounds, we talked about switching Amos to a weight management food.  I asked about seeing if I dropped the milk to wet his food and switched to water.  I really like the food that he is eating now.

Well, that change and the past five months of walking both could attribute to his weight loss, but not a 21% body change.  But not that much, right?

His vet agreed that Amos needs to not be losing any more weight.  She'd like him to plateau here.  When I called, worried, a month ago, she thought 20 pounds would be okay, so she was not concerned that he had dropped to 21.4 pounds.  When we came today, he was at 21 pounds.  A full pound less than when he got his teeth cleaned two months ago.  Feeling Amos' little body, his vet said he was most definitely lean and lean is good, but any leaner would begin to verge on unhealthy.

So, although Amos doesn't realize this yet, this means Amos gets to up his food a bit.  She wants me to try 1.25 cups.  See if a happy medium can be found.  And I am to weigh him every two weeks.  Any sooner and I might begin to worry too much.  His vet tech will be calling in for monthly updates until we see that he's not losing more.  Mostly, the vet believes this is an over-correction on weight management rather than any ill health.  His blood work two months ago was great.  He's eating and drinking and doing his business all fine.  He's frolicking about and is enjoying his walks.  Nothing in his behavior or habits gives concern ... other than his now svelte figure.

My chunky monkey is now Mr. Slim Jim.

My vet is always late, which is bothersome.  It's bothersome because Amos is a nutcase when I pull into the parking lot.  He doesn't just want to be on my shoulders, he tries to crawl up atop my head!  I always walk in with him perched on my shoulders, quaking with full-body tremors.  The clinic always has a room ready for us with blankets on the ground so I can rest easier.  They are kind, if a bit tardy.  But I forgot the most important part:  they always have a Dr Pepper for me!

Okay, the most important part is that they are especially gentle and compassionate with both Amos and I.  The second most important part is that they always have a Dr Pepper for me.

I was rather tired on the way home.  Whilst there, I tried managing my upsettedness and worry by listening to the soundtrack to "The Martian."  I had it playing on the way home until I found myself ready to nod off.  I need a peppy sort of play list for when I am driving home from draining outings.

I spent the rest of the evening holding Amos and resting and trying not to worry about my second appointment with the new GP.  I really would like to talk about my blood works, about two trends that I spotted that concern me, but I wonder if I should just wait until it is all repeated again in six months.  

The poor kidney results worried me, so I went looking at the other areas Sjogren's affects:  liver and platelets.  The two liver tests and the platelets are still in the "normal" range, but if you graph the results over the past six months, the two liver tests have steadily rising numbers at about a 35% angle and my platelets have been steadily declining at about the same angle on the graph.  I find that a bit concerning since all three test results show quite even numbers over the past several years ... the lab results that I have.

Do I bring it up, bring up my desire to look at my blood work from a wider perspective?  Or do I take the "wait-and-see" approach?  I would like those three test results repeated in six weeks with the kidney blood work.  Is that too much to ask??  SIGH.

Part of not worrying about the appointment was thinking about the responses to a post about prayer I made whilst ill.  

How are you supposed to pray when you are ill? Serious question. Do I pray for the Zofran to work? For Georgie to stop forcing my heart to beat faster just now? Or am I merely supposed to pray for Hod's will? And His glory? Because I know what will I want right now. Mine. No nausea. No pacemaker. No fear. And that I want *my* will stokes my fear about salvation. SIGH.

I was asking about how to pray when ill and the answers really didn't address my question, other than Emily's.  She answered, but specifically, as in praying about Zofran working.  But not the larger question.  This made me think I did not do a good job of asking.  So, I tried again.  

I tried to ask about prayer when I was ill and scared and I think I didn't do a good job of asking. That or only Emily seemed to get what I was asking. Her answer was in part or specific to the situation, but not the larger issue. How does one pray when she is ill?

I mean, I don't pray for myself. Right or wrong, it is not something I can do. I pray for others. I mostly pray the Psalms for others. And I pray the Psalms when I do not have anyone in mind but want to hear them. Basically, I'm in the Psalter several times every day.

Still, when I am in the throes of nausea or pain or plummeting blood pressure or blood sugar, I don't cry out to God. I am usually so overwhelmed in the moment I am ... well ... paralyzed with just trying to endure. I oft post my bodily misery in the hopes that others would pray.

Sometimes, though, in the afterwards of such times, mostly when I am castigating myself for not calling upon God and wondering what it is that I believe because I remain so silent at times, I wonder what I should be praying. I wonder because all the possibilities that come to my mind seem to be not the right things to pray because they all seem to be what I want, not necessarily "Thy will be done."

Pretty much my wants are two-fold: 1) make the medicine work (if I have something to take) and 2) to get through the moment. Neither of those are spiritual in nature or reflect a trust in God.

My evangelical past was filled with prayers that were more of a shopping list or maybe a spiritual Honey Do list for God than what I find in the Psalter. In there, I find the agony of soul and the joy of salvation. I find the wants of the immediate and the desires of the long-term. I find honest, vulnerable humanity living in a fallen world. So there is this cognitive dissonance between what I learned and what I ... am learning hiding out in the Psalter.

When I brought up the failed post with Becky on the phone, she pointed out that in Jesus' dark moment, He first prayed for what was to come to not come as a way of expressing His want and then prayed that God's will be done.

I am not saying that if it is God's will that I suffer that I have a problem with that. At least as far as I am aware, I don't. I have a fairly strong stance that we live in a fallen world. Blame for the ills and trials of this world lie not at the feet of God but at those who brought sin into the world and those who continue that sin. That's the devil, through Adam and Eve, and the devil again, through humankind. I think that folk seem to forget the depth and breadth of the reality of living in a fallen world.

I'm saying that I wonder about what to pray and how to pray in my dark moments where I so inclined. And I wonder why I am not compelled to pray ... what that says about me.

I am not really expecting an answer, but I do sometimes get responses there whereas I do not here.  And I do have FB friends who are Christians.  SIGH.

Endure...

I wish that I had all manner of eloquence in talking about illness.  I see other writers craft works of art through their pain and illness.  I have never been good with metaphorical language and most of my artistry remains in the entries I write in my mind whilst battling the dark night of nausea or pain or syncope or my eyes or half a dozen other failings of my body.  Still, when I read my fumblings here, especially about pain, I cringe and wallow in wistfulness about the skill of my pen.

I have spent the latter part of this evening trying (and failing) to ignore the chest pains pulsing within, cattle prod shots in my pelvis and forearms, and aches in my legs.  That and trying not to be grumpy with my beloved Fluffernutter.  He doesn't understand, which helps to temper my short tongue.  But I find it terribly difficult to handle how much I hurt at times.

This afternoon, my realtor stopped by to bring me butter.  Somehow, I ran out.  Okay, I knew that I would be using the last of my regular butter for the rosemary butter.  But I was going to the store.  Then I went a second time.  I almost would have gone a third because being without butter is really unthinkable, but I hurt too much.

Sometimes, when the neuropathy is bad, I find myself curling up in a ball, wanting to wail for my mother.  Or anyone's mother.  Or just simply anyone.  Of course, these days, I do not have many tears for crying, which is weird in an of itself ... another adjustment.  Sometimes, I find myself trying to squeeze both my forearms at the same time because pressure seems to help.  Or maybe I just think it helps.  Something to do, you know.  Sometimes, I find myself frenetically searching for something to stream, something to distract myself from what is happening.

Funny.  I've had three folk talk to me of late about using music as a means of pain management.  But did I remember that as the week dragged on and the weekend found me moaning and groaning even more?  No.  SIGH.

I did make my goal of giving Amos his bath.  He's all sweet-smelling and soft and ready for his inspection on the morrow.  There seriously cannot be anything softer than a freshly bathed Amos.  Of course, when he's no longer super duper soft, I begin to wonder why.  I think it is that he collects a lot of dust.  At least, I am assuming that is why his bathwater gets a bit gray as I start his first rinse job.

A bath for Amos.
A shower for me.
That's it.  That's my day.

Well, that and trying to endure.

Grumpy and despairing...

Yesterday, I went to Walmart to fetch the groceries I forgot when I went on Saturday.  Much to my frustration, I completely forgot butter, even though it was on my list both times.  I am completely out of butter.  Well, that's a lie.  I am completely out of regular butter.  I still have some European butter for special occasions.  Actually, had a I brain in my head, when I made the rosemary butter, I would have used that instead of my regular butter.  But, as plenty of evidence exists, I am greatly lacking in the brains department.  SIGH.

On the way home, I decided to try this tiny Dominican restaurant I had spotted.  I did so because I have been in much greater pain of late and I wanted some food that I didn't have to prepare and thought that would be a judicious use of some of my grocery money.  The chicken empanada on that plate changed my life.

The plate was so generous that I was able to put away two more servings.  These are the takeout containers from my beloved Lebanese restaurant back in Alexandria.  I've kept them all this time because, back when I could afford to eat out regularly, I always had leftovers.  I absolutely adore leftovers.

There were no leftover empanadas.
I ate Sunday's on Saturday.
And wanted more.

I actually bought three chicken dishes: the plate, the empanadas, and a roasted chicken.  Oh, my!  I thought it was a fair price:  $6.75.

When picked, I came up with three cups of white meat and two of dark.  I admit that I felt the need to taste several parts of the chicken to make sure it was okay.

Protein is really important in my diet, especially when the gastroparesis is flaring its ugly head.  And when my blood sugar is low.  And when I am not up for eating much because of the violent waves of nausea.  And, basically, I practically cluck.  One cannot have enough chicken!

I am already salivating over the next time I might fetch me some chicken empanadas.  Mmmmm!!

Friday, I cut Amos' nails.  Saturday, I plucked the curls from inside his ears.  [Both of us like to pretend this doesn't happen.]  Today, the plan was to cut the curls from his body.  Tomorrow, is his bath.  You see, on Tuesday, Amos has his six-year-old check-up.  I like him to be especially presentable.  Mostly ... probably ... it is because I worry I might be judged as a bad puppy momma if he's not all sweet-smelling and presentable when being poked and prodded by professionals.

But cutting his hair today was especially difficult for me.

It wasn't just that he has become worse than a baby on a changing table when it comes to the application of scissors.  It was/is because of the pain.  Oh, my!  Has the neuropathy been terrible!! Cattle prod pokes in my arms and legs and pelvis.  The electrical pulses of pain are so very difficult to endure.

This whole week, I've also had a lot of visceral pain, which had been better for a while.  That is difficult to swallow because when the neuropathy is in your abdomen, you start to become convinced that something dire is wrong.  Like with the chest pains you have with NCS (dysautonomia).  It is so easy to become convinced that you are having a heart attack or some other coronary event.  On the Dysautonomia forums I've visited, so many talk about having chest pains, going to the ER, and being sent home.  They are angry that nothing was done (other than a cardiac work-up), but there is little to be done with nerve pain like this.

So much of dealing with pain is having a good self-talk protocol.  Words that you can speak to remind yourself what is true when your body is screaming its insensibility.

We've had tumultuous weather of late, and I suspect some of the pain is the fronts that have been passing through.  Cool.  Sweltering.  Cold.  Steamy.  And lots and lots and lots of rain.  It is good that I do not have to go out until Tuesday late afternoon.  I have more time to swallow the pain.

Wednesday and Friday are doctor appointments for me.  If the part is in, I am hoping Thursday will be a second visit by the refrigerator warranty repair person.  He believes the terrible grinding noise I am hearing is the damper motor, which is also why he believes the refrigerator is so cold.  Apparently, the damper controls the cold air from the freezer.  I already knew that the only cooling in a refrigerator that happens actually happens in the freezer.  So, his explanation seems plausible.  In any case, it does worry me that something so vital has broken on my practically brand new refrigerator.  And I would like it repaired as soon as possible ... definitely before I end up with more frozen food in my refrigerator.

I sure do hope that this coming week is easier physically than this past one.  I admit that I am not all that amiable to be around when I am hurting.  I can manage a fairly high level of pain, but when I get to that tipping point, I become rather grumpy and a tad despairing.  I very much dislike myself at those times.  Since I have several appointments this week, I'd like not to be grumpy and despairing during them.

Lord willing...

Showering myself...

When I was out today, I spotted this very old couple walking into Lowe's.  They were holding hands. It was this really strange moment for me.  Normally, seeing loving couples hurts in a way that emphasizes that I have lived my life alone, that no one has ever loved me.  And, these days, I think about how, in all likelihood, I will die having never known the loved that I am seeing.  But, today, what I saw was so ... pure.  I know absolutely nothing about that couple and yet I know that they were  gentle and kind to each other.

I watched them for a while.  They dropped hands so that the husband could push the cart, but whenever he stopped, they clasped hands once more.  When the wife bent to look at flowers, the husband put one hand on the small of her back and one on her upper arm, supporting her as she bent over.  It wasn't that she seemed to need support, but more than he wanted to be close with her.  As they browsed, I think they inhabited their own little world.  I saw him, looking at her, whist she was admiring a blossom, touching it with her fingers.  I swear, I could hear him thinking, "I can't believe she's mine."

It was a weird and sweet and oddly calming to watch them.  I think, too, it was a bit hopeful.  But hope of what??

I was at Lowe's because I finally found large pipe wind chimes that I could have for my haven.  Alas, after hanging them, I realized they are too large large pipe wind chimes.  So, the hunt remains.

My other trip out was to Walmart to get four things:  kitchen towels, heavy duty foil, chicken, and fabric.

Since I have never, as an adult, had a grand birthday party (or much of one at all), I decided—as I've practically shouted to the world—to celebrate my 50th myself.  For me, that includes getting the presents I've never really gotten.  I admit, I was greatly disappointed when I got my Ph.D. and I was the only one to celebrate the accomplishment.  I bought a bed (I'd only ever had a twin at that point), an antique book by Gene Stratton Porter, and a puppy dog.  This celebration, I have been thinking of things that will either make my life easier or things I struggle to believe I've earned or deserve.

Retroactively, I'm calling the handles on my garage and recycling bins a birthday present.  After all, if I am doing the celebrating, then I can make such declarations, eh?  I bought a new cover for my laptop, to replace the broken one.  [I often drop my laptop and the covers blunt the impact.]  This time, instead of getting one that was as cheap as possible, I got one that I have been hankering for:  Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night.  This is a reminder of my second most favorite television episode: Doctor Who's "Vincent and The Doctor."

It is such an exquisite exploration of mental illness buried in the sci-fi-ness of it all and it has my most favorite quote:

The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. Good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant.   ~The Doctor

The fabric is for a larger weighted blanket in my bed.  I like the small one I use, but sometimes I want my torso and my shoulders covered.  I've had enough of the weighted pellets (I think) for a while now, but I have been waiting to 1) find the right design on the Waverly fabrics I've been using and 2) have the money for a larger fabric purchase.

I bought blue and kaki denim flowy skirts, because I want to wear less men's lounge pants and the peasant skirts I bought several years ago have fallen apart.

I bought a new band for my medical alert bracelet because the current one keeps slipping off since one of the clasps is loose.  However, I bought a pretty one this time, instead of the cheapest, most practical stainless steel link chain I could find.

I bought a plastic wrap dispenser because I am absolutely tired of fighting to tear off pieces of plastic wrap.  And, since I cook most of my food now, I am using more plastic wrap than I ever have before.  No matter what brand I try, I have the hardest time tearing one off.  The dispenser has this slide zipper that makes cutting plastic wrap a breeze.  I chose one that was sunflowers because of that same Doctor Who episode, remaining me of Van Gogh's sunflower paintings.

The biggest thing that I have bought, thus far, is a Roku.  Selling my Roku and keeping the free Fire TV stick was a HUGE mistake.  I HATE the Firestick.  So much of it is not as intuitive as the Roku, but it also kicks me off Netflix all the time.  I think it is cursed.

The other big present was "Fringe."  Frankly, I shouldn't have to explain why I wanted that show.  It's just so stinking awesome!!  Plus, when Becky is here for my extended birthday celebration, we plan to binge watch the last two seasons because it left Netflix before she could watch it.

And, well, I guess you can say that finishing off my haven are many other presents.  I mean, I have the tulip stained glass window (which hopefully will be framed by my actual birthday), the table set, the table settings, the fire pit, and the makings of the fountain.  And the wind chimes if I ever find what I need.  I did save for four years for my haven.  I just didn't save enough.  So, I raided my retirement savings to finish it.  It has exceeded my expectations as far as providing a sense of privacy and safety.  It really has made my life more bearable.

Of course, I did not plan to have to replace the darned printer and the darned ceiling fan and the darned sleep mate (and the darned refrigerator last December).  But, right now, I am just not looking at my budget.  I have a plan ... a hugely austere plan for the rest of 2017.  Of course, if either or both the repeat thyroid scan and the repeat kidney function blood work are not ... good ... medical expenses might blow my plan.  And I have been looking for more things to sell on Craigslist.  For example, I did not have the electrician install the remote device on the fan.  He said they sell for $32 as an add-on, so I am hoping I could sell it.  I doubt they will sell, but I re-used my shades from the original fan and so I have a set from the new fan.  Little things.  And maybe that darned Fire TV stick.

My aunt sent me Spring treat money, so I immediately changed that into early birthday money and bought the pump for the fountain.

And ... let's be honest.  I usually get two checks for my birthday.  I know you are not supposed to count your chickens before they hatch, but I figure that I shall pay myself back just a bit.

Oh, yes, I also opened a new credit card, one with slightly better rewards and a $100 bonus in the first three months.  I count that bonus as birthday money!!  I currently earn 1.25 miles for every dollar spent.  This one is 1.5% cash back.  Since all I do is get account credits, switching to a cash back card is just fine.  And I'm sticking with the same bank.  I charge as much as possible and pay it off every month just to earn rewards.  It may not seem like much, but I think that .25 bump will help.

I have a few more presents on my list, the chief being a glass straw with a frog on it.  Maybe.  Something practical and fun.  But I might be at the end of my buying list.  After all, I have definitely treated myself in a way that I never have.

Plus, I've been trying to figure out about the cardiologist's suggestion that I upgrade my Fitbit to a heart rate monitor one so that I can more easily know what my heart rate is.  If I am more aware when it is low, I might move more at those times to lower the amount of time I am being paced.  I think that is a sound plan.  And if I do qualify for the Restasis and the Dulera manufacturer medication assistance programs, then I should be able to swing a new one through my medical budget funds.  The birthday part would be two-fold:  1) I decided on the Alta HR, but I think I would like the special order one black gun metal, which is $30 more, and 2) I would like to have a different band (I found a brown leather one for $12.98).

Oh, yes, and I want a cake.  I want a real cake, a wonderful cake ... not a Walmart bakery cake.

So much treating and wanting for someone who's been struggling to learn to live on a low income with deep medical bills, eh?

My original idea for a birthday celebration was the old-fashioned weekend party.  I wanted my three close friends to come.  I wanted them to come and celebrate with me because I've never had a party as an adult.  Frankly, I never thought folk would come if I had a party.  I've never had a party of any kind.  And since I have had no wedding to attend or baby shower or the like, I wanted my 50th to be that grand reason for a visit.

Becky is coming, making the trip for my greedy, greedy self, from Thursday to Tuesday (an extended, extended weekend).  Celia is coming, but only for one day.  She just couldn't arrange more.  Mary cannot be here.  I can barely think about that, about how disappointed I am that my one chance to have my three friends together fell through.  I think having them all come was really too much to hope for ... I thought for sure that Becky would, because her mother is so very kind about helping with the children so that she can travel and her beloved has been so very gracious over the course of their entire marriage to make sure he did what he could so that Becky and I could visit ... but not all three.  Sure enough, my weekend birthday party dream isn't going to happen.  I sort of moved on to showering myself with presents.  SIGH.

I think the real gift has been—at least thus far—is that my showering has been without guilt.  I made the choice.  I think I can recover from the showering.  I have enjoyed my gifts thus far.  And I have not felt undeserving of the things I have chosen.

I do wonder if anyone else would understand or if I would just be considered reckless.

Flashes...

A small house ... a darker interior, with paneled walls maybe ... a record collection ... being punished because I was a bad little girl ... hiding in the back yard waiting to go home.

I started to tell my sister about this last ever visit to a relative's house.  Flashes, really.  She asked me why I was being punished and I couldn't answer.  She asked me how I was being punished and I started shaking uncontrollably.  I still couldn't answer.  I just know those few things I told her.

I wish I could remember the vast swaths of my childhood that are blank to me ... the vast swaths of my adulthood that are blank to me ... but I am not focused so much on remembering as I am learning to handle emotions after disassociating so much.

I also wish I didn't believe that I must have been such a very bad little girl.

Gardening and fountaining...

Gosh, what happened to Saturday and Sunday?  I cannot even say.  I mean, I can post what I had to eat for one meal each day, because I have been spending time out in my haven.  However, aside from those photos, I am not sure how the days passed.

I did, a few days ago, successfully replace the burnt out bulb beneath my microwave.  I am surprised by just how much brighter the stove top is now.  It makes me think that the bulb has been out the entire time I have owned the microwave.  I was proud of myself.  Perhaps a tad bit too proud.

What happens at such times?

The light inside my microwave went out!  I am working up to Googling how you go about replacing one of those.  Already, I am wondering how you get a screwdriver inside a microwave.  I really do not want to pay an electrician to replace the light.

Man!  I've had so much break lately.  Well, if you go back to the practically new refrigerator (which needs a warranty service call because it is making terrible noises when the water is moving around inside), I've had the refrigerator, the stove light, the sleep mate, the bedroom ceiling fan, and printer, and now the interior light on the microwave.  I'm not counting the light beneath the microwave, because I really do think it never worked.

I'm ready for a break in the cost of home ownership.

Meanwhile, about those meals...

Today, I had another melt.  I've been working on perfecting my melt making skills.  This one was a Southwest Chipotle Chicken Bacon melt.  It didn't last long.  In case you were wondering, the best melting cheese to use on a melt (that I have tried thus far) has been gruyere.  I prefer using a combination of two cheeses in all my melts.  White cheddar cheese pairs well with gruyere.

Somehow, I had forgotten how to make chicken enchiladas!   What a thing to forget!!  I finally tracked down the ratio of enchilada sauce and evaporated milk.  I told myself I was going to wait until the 27th to get the ingredients, but with all the "breakage" spending that I have been doing, I gave up on budgeting and went grocery shopping.  Of course, I forgot about half the stuff I've been waiting to buy, but I did get what I needed.  Mmmm!

I did remember something I did this weekend, just looking at this!!  I planted my raised bed goodies:  thyme, cucumber, lettuce, and carrots.  I haven't been able to track down sage.  With more gardening space, I chose tomatoes and broccoli as what I plan to branch out in my growing endeavors.  I loathe tomatoes, but I would like to learn to make sauce from scratch.  My dear friend Becky advised for me to plant roma tomatoes.

Anyway, last summer, with my bountiful crop of cucumbers, I started making lettuce-less salads.  This is my new favorite:  pulled poached chicken, cucumber, goat milk cheese, dried cranberries, and maple chili sunflower seeds, with Briana's Blush Wine Vinaigrette.  I've had this salad a bite frequently of late.

This was chicken in Thai honey peanut sauce over Basmati rice.  Mmmmm!

Anyway, not to bore you with a million and one meal photos, but I have enjoyed eating out in my haven immensely.  In a way, I have tried to think of it as my own little café.  By taking time to have a bit of presentation to my meals, I have been cheered ... thinking less about being ill.  At least whilst I am out there.

Truly, my hopes for the haven have been exceeded beyond my wildest dreams.  It is far prettier than I thought (the panels) and the tumbled stone pavers.  It is even more private than I hoped it would be.  And it is already cooler than I imagined.  By that I mean that I was outside whilst it was 74 degrees and yet I was comfortable eating in the shade.

I hadn't thought about a future haven when I moved my beleaguered variegated maple tree other than to make sure it wouldn't be in the way of any future fencing.  It turns out that the tree anchors the space beautifully.  I need to take a better photo, one further back, to emphasize its perfection.  You can see, though, that it is leafing out.  My fingers are crossed for that poor tree.

You can also see that I opted for a stacked pot fountain.  Firewood Man said it would be mid May before he can finishing the wiring.  It's driving me nuts, but I am trying to be patient.  I thought I got all that I needed, but I realized that I need to get a different plug cover, some river rock for the top, and more tubing to run from the pump that will be at the bottom of the fountain and the top.  I thought I had enough from eons ago when I got my first fountain, but I don't.  Oh, how I cannot wait to get the water running!

It is my hope that the frame for the tulip window might be done soon.  I'm trying to find that perfect balance between reminding Tim and not annoying him.  He does tend to forget things.  He is, however, crazy busy right now.

Oh, yeah, look carefully beneath a chair and you can see that I finished my footrest!  It sure makes it easier on me when Amos hops up in my lap when I am streaming out there.  He's partial to cheesy sci-fi, too!

There, I did remember via the photos.  I gardened and fountained since last Friday.  And ate tasty food....

Back to back...

Thursday was my next appointment with the rheumatologist.  Even though I know better, I went over my blood work and noted two things of interest:  results showing kidney damage and muscle damage.    I want my blood test results to be normal.  SIGH.

To be honest, I have avoided learning much about Sjogren's Syndrome.  This whole new turn in my medical journey has not been one that I have handled with any amount of grace.  I have, however, not actually, technically had a hissy fit over it.  I've been to busy trying to deal with living with Sjogren's whilst being overwhelmed.

Seeing the blood work, though, made me realize it was past time that I start reading.  But I wanted a gentle start.  I went looking on Facebook for a support group and found many strident ones that sounded a lot like that first dysautonomia one.  Then I stumbled across this Sjogren's "sisters" group and I got my "gentle" introduction.

I will say that the one truly disturbing discovery was how many of them had dentures!  The little I read about how a dry mouth can cause tooth decay came crashing home.  The rheumatologist had told me, on my first visit, that I needed to switch to a baking soda toothpaste.  No problem! I thought.  I've  been using Arm & Hammer baking soda and peroxide toothpaste for years and years.  My family (and other visitors) have complained when asking to borrow my toothpaste because it tastes rather terrible.  Hah!  "Terrible" has at least kept my teeth safe thus far.  However, I learned I also should be seeing a dentist once a quarter.  I haven't gone since I moved here.  I am not sure how to swing that change.

I read several posts on how Sjogren's affects the kidneys by folk who were experiencing that, so I learned a few questions I should be asking.

When I saw the blood work, I immediately thought of the Celebrex.  I remain worried that I will be taken off the only pain medication that has ever helped my arthritis.  And I was rightly so because my doctor brought that up.  But she ultimately said that discussion would lie with a specialist if warranted.  She wants to repeat the blood work on my kidneys in six weeks to make sure this was not a blip.  If it remains poor, then she would like my GP to follow up and manage that problem, coordinating with a specialist.  That sounded reasonable and fair.

We talked about my eyes quite a bit and she walked me through two successive next steps if the Restasis does not start working.  I liked knowing what could be coming.  She was adamant, though, in her admonishment that I not miss the scheduled drops that I am on now ... both the Restasis and the three other drops.  She said not to let two hours slide into three.  Be vigilant!  SIGH.

We talked about the Reynaud's in my hands and feet, with my expressing my frustration with how hard it is to keep the latter warm.  She suggested I consider hunting gear for my feet and hands as that might provide a better opportunity for success.  I, uhm, don't know any hunting stores!

I did the best I ever have with the physical exam, and I've only met her twice.  So, I am deeply thankful for that.  She also was rather encouraging to me because she observed that it must be hard handling my illnesses and a pacemaker!  She's the first doctor who showed an understanding that having a pacemaker might be a difficult adjustment ... one that might be long in coming.

It was a good visit.

Today, I had my pacemaker check appointment.  I think the best way to explain how that went was to say that the tech wore GREEN just for me!  A really good moment came when, after explaining that Georgie was just not helping me whilst walking, riding the recumbent bike, or standing whilst cooking, the movement sensor screen that she checked showed that the highest the sensor had raised my heart was 60 beats per minutes (BPM).  HAH!  Data backed me up!!  Good times, man!

I do not do well when I have to have leads attached to me (being exposed), and I most decidedly do not do well with the pacemaker check tests.  I start to panic when my heart is forced to beat faster and really lose it when the ventricular chambers are tested.  The tech, knowing this, very deliberately asked me thinking sort of questions just as I started to feel the testing.  The distraction made this testing session go better than any of the others.

The CLS setting is based on my own heart, because it involves learning algorithms for all the settings based on how my heart responds thereafter.  So, the changes we made will take a while to evidence whether or not they are of benefit to me.  I see the cardiologist in six weeks and he can make tweaks or I can go back into the pacemaker clinic.  This main setting is best for folk who faint.  However, it makes adjusting the settings for movement difficult.  I need to be patient.

Beforehand, I asked for prayer on Facebook, because today marks 44 days without a meltdown and, because of the magnitude of my last meltdown, 44 days since I cut.  I was so fearful of how I would respond to the shame I feel when being hooked up with the cardiac monitoring leads that I vomited as I was getting ready.

As a reminder, the ophthalmologist, upon seeing me so agitated, suggested that I bring headphones and listen to music during my medical appointments.  I took her advice and added music to my arsenal that now includes a weighted blanket, a diffuser necklace pendent, a squishy ball, a frog ring, a photo of Amos, and music.  She suggested Bach, which was the same suggestion for trying to use music in pain management.  I do not yet have any Bach, but I brought the soundtrack to my beloved movie "The Martian," a gift from my dear friend Mary.  So, I had a great orchestral score and a reminder of her love and affection.  I kept one earbud in during the entire appointment so that I could hear the music as I struggled to get through the difficult moments.

Gosh, there goes Georgie!
Should I mention how often she goes off whilst I blog??

Back-to-back medical appointments are very difficult for me, draining both physically and mentally.  This is especially so whilst I am so very overwhelmed with all that has changed in my life since last fall.  However, I really could not asked for better appointments.  I mean, they could have been even better, but they were most definitely better than I could ever have imagined at this point.

Two days. Two appointments.
Doctors who listened and who showed compassion.
Fairly good communicating on my part.  Great communicating on their part..
Plans for next steps to help assuage my angst.
No meltdowns.

My next appointment is on the 3rd, though Amos has his on the 2nd.  Tuesday, the 25th, I am getting up early to ferry my realtor to her very first colonoscopy.  I hope to be able to sleep in my car whilst she is being tortured, but I might have to stay awake inside because the clinic where she's going is pretty adamant (thus far) about a patient's ride being on hand at all times.  The 26th Electrician Man is coming to service my HVAC system and hang the replacement fan for my bedroom.  And, soon, I'll be calling Whirlpool because my new refrigerator is making funny noise.  SIGH.

All I want to do is rest after yesterday and today, but I have several things on tap in the coming weeks.

Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.