Monday, June 19, 2017

Why I stubbornly! insist on a real newspaper!!!

A newspaper's main focus is to deliver what they call news ... it sits as still as you are.  The ads are in boxes or slippery circulars that fall out when you pick it up.

Yes, I do read online news, but it literally gives me a headache - its all full of ads that freeze my slow ISP, and yak at me to buy something - or just as bad, flash it over what I'm in the middle of reading!

GIVE ME A REAL NEWSPAPER, DAMMIT!!!

Thursday, June 15, 2017

What that T-shirt says ....

I was looking at a catalog and had to chuckle at what a woman's t-shirt for sale, stated --

Of course they're fake - the real ones tried to kill me!

I was thinking of this with everything I've been going through w/ my healthcare provider, the only brand within 50-60 miles, so - not really giving a consumer too much of another choice!  Found them without any type of medical generosity towards the patient without prescription coverage, and its definitely a for-profit healthcare system! where they nag you senseless with phone calls to get their pound of flesh -- all that said, I was very happy with my N.P., so the greater entity was - tolerable.  Until, that is --

I only found out she had left the practice when I called to make an appointment.  God bless her, what she's doing to try to hold on to the house she has here, but NOT to work for this conglomerate -- 

-- about why I called --

I have Irritable Bowel.  Its completely stress-related, not diet-related, when it goes into overdrive, that is ... Mine began to flare in late April, and I realized "oh ... Mother's Day yeahhh" so I hunkered down to wait it out ... and ... it didn't stop.  It. Did. Not. Stop.  It got to where food was completely unappealing, because I knew it would only cause spasms, pain, and violent sickness.  And so, post Mothers Day but still May, I called --

Thats when I learned that my N.P. had left the practice.  Ok - whom do I have now?!

The answer was that I didn't have anyone at all, actually.  I was told by a nurse to go 16 miles one direction to the emergency room ... which I decided against - not only end of the month and less travel money to drive with, but because I knew it would be a ridiculous waste of time, with them now having additional reasons to bill me, for all the elaborate testing that I knew would tell them, what I already knew - oh, its stress-related (duh ....) .... It took me a bit longer to realize that now leaves me with NO DOCTOR AT ALL, but thats a whole other post - back to this one ---

Towards the end of the week of June 4th - yes, still violently sick - I decided to AGAIN look upon the IBS boards (written by people who actually have this illness), to see if there was anything else I could do for this, that I hadn't thought about - probiotics, yes, I know, I need to start taking them again ... and then, once again, I bunked into mention of diverticulitis (die-vur-tik-yoo-LIE-tis), which is an infection in that part of the body ... Hmmm.  I had that, the winter that the biggest light of my life ever, was extinguished, and it was a horrific experience, but one that must be treated immediately, with antibiotics, as it is an INFECTION:  without antibiotics, you can have a perforated bowel, which is an extremely serious condition!  Grace Slick of the Jefferson Starship nearly died from it.

Hmmm.

I dug in the back of my catch-all drawer and did find a bottle of unfinished antibiotics.  I decided to start taking them the weekend before my birthday - that way, if I had to talk to a doctor, I had a specific start date I could remember!  And, if it didn't make a bit of difference - well, it was only two days worth of antibiotics - I could hear my mother's voice in my head - "Its not gonna kill ya!"  --

It immediately began making a significant difference, this gift of old antibiotics - to where I can see visible results; I can see my body trying to correct and heal itself, even tho it is slightly off-kilter still ...

 It was midweek (of this week) that the whole horrible ugly reality began to dawn on me.  It was worse than not having a doctor - it was worse than being harangued by phone calls -- 

essentially, it was as if they were trying to kill me, by not having someone at least see me locally, assess me - instead, giving me a brush-off over the phone via the nurse by some doctor I've never met in my entire life, without a concern in the world of how I was going to cross that geographical distance ----

The writing has been on the wall, a long time now, that God is telling me to MOVE ON - MOVE FORWARD, JEAN!  THIS IS NOT YOUR PLACE NOW!  .... I get overwhelmed and scared and have more questions than answers, so - no, no, that hasn't happened ... and ... as God does!  GOD SPEAKS MORE AND MORE INSISTENTLY (its Biblical - I recommend you start with the Old Testament, with  passages concerning  Jonah and how he wound-up in the belly of the whale, considering we're talking about tummies! --) --

They tried to kill me, in short (dramatic! but true!) order.  They won't assign me a doctor, and as someone with chronic illnesses (in addition to Social In-Security needing regular updates!), that's untenable ... essentially, like going without decent air, or "BabeDidrikson without a level athletic playing field .....

But - how?!  where?!!!  -- LORD, I'm waiting on your speaking to the spirit ... or email, if you choose to be so modern ;)

This brought a smile to me today ....

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Belshazzar's feast

Perhaps, indeed, the writing has been on the wall for me, for where I reside, for some time now - especially going back as when an 8-year resident - who had done nothing but continual improvements to her apartment, beyond the natural of what would be expected in an apartment that you rent and don't own,  and who was never the type of woman to draw the police or any unsavory persons to this complex -- was evicted:  she couldn't pay her rent because of an injury that occurred on this poorly maintained property, and the landlord wouldn't even give for a "I won't sue you, if you excuse me rent", because - after she was injured - she could no longer earn her steady, decent income that had sustained her throughout her time here ....

... now in the end it all turned out the best for her personally, a miracle, and she's in a much better living location! .... However, the whole thing just left a very sour taste in my mouth:  if they can throw a good woman out on the proverbial streets like that - what about any of us?!  what about myself?!! 

Sad to report, but nothing happens quick OR easy for a woman such as myself, who is poor. easily overwhelmed, and far too often undermedicated, and so any applications for the actually decent public housing in this area - where I could live far more comfortably, on several levels - has never been filled out -- the paperwork being as long as a mortgage, and requires the organization and assembly of reams of other paperwork (even in such a computer age as this one),  that has to be hunted down, collated, et al.

A neighbor who has been here six years just knocked on my door to deliver absolutely devastating news that she is taking far better than me - she is being evicted: this despite an angel's personal check as well as the assistance of a local charity - even that has been rejected, federally-backed rent assistance!  And they are giving her until Monday.  Hearing her tell me all of this is far more frightening than anything that can be delivered to the screens to make us scream around Halloween every year!

My neighbor is calm, for a couple of reasons: Thank God! she has friends that are the cure she needs right now - a couch to crash upon; a place to store her belongings until she gets resettled.  And - another thing:  in her frantic packing of the place she has resided with her two sons (who are staying with there father), she has discovered water seepage through the walls, resulting in black mold she didn't even know was there - and with two young growing children, this is truly awful! - so that's why she's kind of turning this back around and regarding it more of a Mardi Gras, than a Good Friday ....

... and as for me???  The writing has been on the wall, and its only getting darker and darker --

-- in fact, it may even be written in black mold, for all I know.