Still Surviving and Trying to Get a Car

 So...I've been living...AND...

Trying like crazy to get a car!!!

How is that going you ask?  

Well...

There was a fundraiser created for me.

It started out great as people donated, but it's been stalled for around two weeks now and I'm really trying to get it going again.  

Here's the link if anyone is interested : 

http://spot.fund/pxwt7sc

I've also been volunteering at Killeen Creators which has been AMAZING!

I've met new people and started teaching a couple classes.  

I'm also involved with some of the office work and working on their Volunteer recognition!

Things with Jacob and I are good.  Like every relationship, we have our ups and downs...but overall things are good.  He works locally now, so we don't have to worry about getting him to Austin and that has been a big stress reducer.

Now, the reason I'm trying to get a car...is so I can drive Uber again and actually earn money!!!

I want to be self-sufficient and get off of social security.  But, in order to do that, I need to make money.

In the meantime, if you're in Killeen, come check me out where I volunteer at Killeen Creators

OR...

Those that know me, just call or come by my apartment.  Though lately I've not been home as much as I'm volunteering and really thriving there!

And, with that, I will leave you with one of my paintings that is going in the Community Garden at Killeen Creators

I hope you like it!! I really do!  

When You Wake Up Missing Someone...

I woke up this morning missing my Mom.

Not the woman who gave birth to me, but my Mom.

The one that raised me...

Loved me...

Sheltered me...

Taught me everything...

Showed me what a family is supposed to be like.

I miss Dandi.

She would be able to tell me what to do in times like this.

She would also be there to encourage me, and assure me that...

It.

Will.

Be.

Alright.

Dandi is the one that taught me my manners, she taught me everything that a parent is supposed to teach a child that my parents didn't teach me.

Maybe it's because I saw a bunch of Dandilions yesterday, and I know that is when she's telling me I'm doing the right thing...that I'm on the right path.

Maybe it's because I'm so worn down right now.

I don't want to fight anymore...

I don't want to scrape everything...

I want to go back to the life I had before this tornado, where I felt safe.

Where I worried, but at least had the things I needed.

Dandi is the one that was there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on.

She offered me encouragement when I was to scared to try something new.

She also was not afraid to punish me when I had done something wrong.

With the world going crazy, and everyone being socially distant, Dandi would have been the one to tell me that we're still close, and together.  We will always be together.

On Mother's Day, I light a candle for Dandi.

Most days, she's on my mind, so many years later after she died...

I think of her every day.  I miss her every day.

And now, when I want so badly for someone to just talk to every day...just get on the phone and say 

"What's up?"

"How was your day?"

"This funny thing happened to me today..."

I got no one to call...no one to joke with...no one to talk to.

I am really good at pretending that everything is OK.

I'm really good and hiding the fact that I'm incredibly lonely.

I spend all day at the restaurant, I laugh and joke...

but when the time comes, I go home by myself...I do everything by myself.

Just once, I wish I had someone that I could call and say HI...I'm lonely and I'm having a bad day...please talk to me.  

And I know you're saying...but you're at a restaurant all day...however, I stay out of the way...I don't bother people when they're working, and I try not to be in the way.  

They sometimes talk amongst themselves, and I'm still sitting over here.

So, I read, or try to learn something new...or just browse the internet because my other computer is broken and I can't play MTG Arena.

And, to make myself feel better, I try to do things for other people.  

But, God, I miss being able to call my mom and say

I LOVE YOU!

So, Dandi, I know you're watching me...and I know you're guiding me.

I miss you so very very much. 

Because you at least wanted me, when my own parents didn't.

Going Stir Crazy in Nacogdoches

So, we have all confirmed that I have wanderlust and like to just go.

This quarantine, while I understand it's important, is killing me.

I haven't stayed this long in one place in a while and frankly, I am about to just drive to the forest to go.

There are so many things that I've wanted to say about this, but I don't want to piss anyone off and I really don't want to start debates...so...here goes.

At the first of the year, people were posting things like there was going to be a plague or something this year, because it happens about every hundred years or so.  Mother Nature has an incredible way of balancing her ecosystem when things are out of wack, and in my belief, this is one of her defense mechanisms.  

One of the funny things that keeps running through my head, as I see empty shelves and people doing things more as families, and NOT going their separate ways, is that this must be what it was like a hundred years ago.  Families were families back then, not just driving to separate events and activities.  I sat at the park and watched a family of three kids enjoy the afternoon with their mom and grandparents...sitting on the grass.  Would they have done this if we weren't social distancing?  Would they have done this of Covid19 hadn't invaded our lives?  What have they learned about themselves, their family?

Then I see the kids doing their schoolwork at home.  Again, it's like we stepped into a time about a hundred years ago.  Back then, there were mostly one room schoolhouses, and the majority of their learning was at home (in my opinion).  Parents are finding a new found appreciation for teachers, and I bet a lot of parents now understand what teachers go through every day, times 25 kids.  A lot of people that I talked to actually like the idea of homeschooling now and are exploring that option more and more.  

Then I think about the Great Depression.  How in one day, everything crashed and it took a long time for us to recover from it.  And I see that happening now.  People are unemployed, not able to pay their bills, not able to find any work.  And the amazing thing is, instead of these people stressing about finding a job (thanks unemployment for the majority of them), they're enjoying life.  They're not running around looking for another job like their life depends on it, though some are.  

And people are getting innovative with substitutions for things they need...like ELASTIC!  A lot of people are making masks and helping out the communities (even if they are making a profit from it), and the demand is way more than the supply.  So, what are people doing...they're substituting for elastic...again, what we did so many years ago.  It got to the point that during WWII (I believe) there was rationing.  People made do with what they could get.  

And then I wonder, what our new normal will be like.  After the Gulf War, when I was in high school, things changed.  I can remember gas prices going up overnight, and it was hard on people.  Ever since, gas has not been below $1.00, and even though it's fairly close, I doubt it will go down that far...but still...on average $1.50 per gallon is pretty darn cheap if you ask me.  Yes, we will come out of this slowly, and we will try to cut the infection rate, but what is our new normal going to be like?

When I was in elementary school, WalMart closed at night...it's closing at night again.  We adapt.  People stay home more often now, even if it's not by choice.  They're discovering things like crafts, reading, hobbies.  Many are rediscovering their partners and learning to live so long together.  Think about it, people usually see each other maybe 7 or 8 hours a day, and now it's all day.  There are hobbies that we had that our partners either didn't know or didn't have time to participate in, and now there is time.  

There was a time before 24 hour stores and theme parks.  There was a time before our schedules were bombarded with different activities.  There was a time when we were at home and getting ready for bed when it got dark.  And that time is here again...but will it stay?  

I'm not the biggest fan of this social distancing.  I'm a hugger, and I don't have family to be close to all the time...it's just me.  When I hugged my friends, that was my family...and that's gone right now.  I'm an extrovert...but can be happy doing things at home also...but there comes that time when I'm about to climb the walls, and I've hit that time.  I'm not like most people and have a TV to watch, or internet at the house, or anything like that.  

So, this is an unprecented time that we're in...we've never dealt with anything like this.  Our parents haven't dealt with anything this bad...some grew up in the time of Polio, but was it this bad?  It's human nature to want that contact, that communication, that connection.  I sit here most days and wish I had someone to talk to, just about mundane things.  The people I call are always busy and don't want to talk to me...so I study, and go a little further in my shell.  But I miss the conversations, the interactions, the jokes and laughs.

As things start to open up, people will be available to talk.  I liken the coming out of quarantine to coming out of the cellar after a really bad storm.  You've been huddled in your safe spot for the duration, and now you come out, and look around.  You assess the damage, and life goes on.  Life doesn't stop because people die.  Life doesn't stop because people get sick.  Life goes on...the Earth still orbits the Sun, and tomorrow will come.  Everyone and everything on this Earth has a time, a season...some are short and some are long, but no one lives forever.  

(And I know this may sound cold, but I've lost so many people close to me that I have to look at it from a different perspective, and that's what I've done.)

One of my friends put everything I've been feeling into one picture...and with her permission it's here.

So, while we're at home, it's OK to dress up and miss our old lives...they may never be the same.  We all have a new normal that we have to get used to, and some adapt easier than others.  

This is my opinion and way of looking at things, and I do apologize in advance if I've offended anyone with my callus way of looking at things...but it's my blog...and I get to pick what I put on it!

I hope everyone has a good day.  I hope you are staying safe.  I hope you're adapting.

Life updates...

So, since I've been neglecting my blog, I figured I would give you an update as to what's been going on.

I've moved into my van, for several reasons...the main one being I'm tired of fighting landlords for things that are required by law to be there anyway. This isn't exactly giving up, it's just choosing which battles to fight.

My van is my safe place...this may sound funny, but I actually feel better when I'm in my van.  Right now, I need that safety net.  

There are a couple of things in the works, but I'm not allowed to say anything about those...soooo...just know that past wrongs may be righted.

My daughter turned 18 and I reached out to her on facebook...I got the picture when she blocked me.

I plan to actually travel this next year, after all, I don't have a job and I don't have an apartment to maintain...so...why not?

I'm going to work on my photography more often, and post the pictures here...

Here's a few from High Fantasy Society, before I got banned because the monarchy wanted me gone because of the stuff happening with my mom.

It's Time....

So....

I've been vague about my past and my present.

I've tried to show a brave face and keep the past there...

But things have a way of coming back to you...especially if you try to keep them buried.

You can't escape your past at all....not one little bit.  

I forgave...that's not the problem.  

The problem is people keep repeating the past...even if they don't try to.

When I was 14, my parents both admitted they didn't want me.  I was a sophmore in high school and homeless for the first time.  I traveled from house to house, sometimes with only the clothes on my back and my school books.  It took me 25 years to mend fences with my mom, and I'm still working on it with my dad.  Yes, I forgave them a long time ago for what they did, but the relationships take longer to heal.

Fast forward to this past winter when I moved into my van.  I had been working on my relationship with my mom for the past five years...she kept begging me to move in, she didn't want to see me houseless.  It was too cold, and she was worried about me.  She asked me to move in with her, so I thought I could trust her and I did.

Now, I'm a firm believer in things happening for a reason...and maybe I am meant to learn something from all this, but I still don't know what that is, but I will learn it...even if I don't know I'm learning it.

Things were good for a while...but then her other caregiver decided that she didn't like me, maybe, that she didn't want me around...I'm still trying to figure that one out.  She manipulated my mother into thinking that I was stealing from her, and that's one thing that doesn't ever cross my mind.  

So, what happens...well...that's a whole other can of worms...that got opened.  I sew and craft.  I also got invited to a music festival over Halloween weekend...so as a late birthday present I was told to go...if I had only known...

I came back, and all my sewing supplies, everything was tossed into a box and put right on the inside of my bedroom door.  Then, the other caregiver took a picture (maybe plenty of them) of the mess....YES, I CAME BACK TO A HUGE MESS.

So, I was understanably upset after having to clean the mess, and also taking care of my mom because I was told that there would be people going by and taking care of her...no one did.  

The next day, it started...I fell and hurt my wrist...really bad sprain.  On that Tuesday, my mom begged me to go to the ER for it, which I finally did.  During that trip to the ER, apparently she hired not one, but TWO more caregivers...and wasn't going to tell me I was out of a job until after I had taken to her appointment that day...talk about used!!!

So, the other caregiver decided that I was dangerous, and called her husband over...and that's when the bullying and harassment began...The things that happened, the things that were said...the things that were allowed to happen...I can't believe that a mother would allow that to happen to her daughter.  

So, I happily volunteered to leave as soon as I got paid...I had put every penny I had into the household, so I didn't have any money...you would think if they want someone to leave they wouldn't interfere with them leaving...boy...wrong again.

So, I retreated to my room, too scared to come out....not allowed to eat...nothing...YES, I WENT HUNGRY FOR OVER A WEEK BECAUSE MY MOTHER WOULDN'T ALLOW ME TO EAT THE FOOD I BOUGHT!!!

The day before I got paid, they tried to have my van towed.  I literally said I would push it out into the street if I couldn't get it started...thank God it started and I moved it to the next parking lot, but SERIOUSLY???? Tow my only means of moving out of your house???

So, I know this is being really stubborn, but...I decided I'm not going to leave right away.  They had already called the landlord to have me evicted, I'm going to "stay" there until I have a court order saying I have to leave...which will happen in a couple of weeks but it allows me time to move my stuff the right way.  

So, after all this, I'm in my van again...and my trust is BROKEN.  My van is my safe place...I feel secure there.  IT'S MY CHOICE!!!

A year ago, when I was faced with living in my van, I was scared...uncertain.  Today, I am happy I'm in my van, though I do need to do a little more to make it home.  First thing is a bed...sleeping on the floor of the van is hard on my back...LOL and it's very hard to get up in the morning.  I have a warm sleeping bag, it may not be the best, and I do have to bundle, but I stayed warm when it got down to freezing last night.  I have plans to leave my safety zone and explore the state, then the US.  I plan on joining my fellow van dwellers in January.  I plan on making this blog more about my adventures, because this life is an adventure.  It may be crazy and hectic, but no one will be able to hurt me anymore!!!!!

Baby Steps...Sorta

Tonight marks one week since I was transferred to a different campaign.

I like the new campaign, but I miss my old one very much. 

I miss helping customers and being very busy.  

But, my new campaign offers a lot of challenges also.

For the last two days, I rolled to work.  There's half a mile where I'm actually on North street, and I'm scared every moment that a car won't move over or slow down.

The rest of the way I can take back streets.

On Monday, I'm taking my van to get fixed.  I'm hoping that it's just that I'm an idiot and don't know how to use the lift.  

Life is going on, yet I still feel like a part of me is being left behind.

I miss my husband.  I miss being married.  I miss that life.

What do you do when your heart is torn out?  

I joke and call the past two years the "Tornado" that hit my life, but in actuality it's more like a mack truck.  And, just in case it didn't do the job the first time...it keeps coming back.

For the first time in two years, I've paid all my bills, and had a little extra.  I keep waiting for the other foot to drop.  I keep waiting for the mack truck to come and roll over me again.  

Tomorrow I get my second paycheck from work...I'm scared and excited at the same time.  I'm no fool, I know that I could lose my job in a heartbeat.  All I want to do is put as much money aside as I can...I want to hide every penny I earn.  But, then again, I want to enjoy a little of my hard work.  

And then...I keep having glimpses of things I've lost...and I get angry at him again.  Then I think, hope that it was the PTSD that affected him...Then I get angry again because the system, our VA system dropped him in the cracks.  To this day, I want to fight for him, to try to make things like they used to be.  

I know he's still in there...the happy guy that always made me laugh.  The guy that lived 18 years in misery because he wanted to look out for me.  The guy that told me that Thanksgiving night that he loved me.  That's the guy that I miss.  That's the life that I miss.

It's Been TWO years.

It's been two years since I went to Chicago.

Two years since everything in my life was normal.

Two years since I started this rollercoaster that is now my life.

A lot has happened in those two years.

I came back to a new life.

I'm no longer a wife.

I no longer live in Lufkin.

I'm no longer a member of PBL...though I hope that changes this year.

I've gravitated more towards politics.

I've learned who I am again...

For a while, I lost myself...

I forgot who I was.

I put Mike first...all the time.

My family has been torn apart.  

The man that I thought I knew, have known for 30 years

CHANGED.

So, now I'm divorced...again.  I've been absent for a while to try to get my life straight.  

I still have my hard days.

I still think that I'm going to spend the rest of my life alone.

I still face the uncertainty...

EVERY.

SINGLE.

DAY.

I wake up scared, I go to bed scared.

The life that I once had, the security, is gone.

BUT

I've made wonderful friends.

I've learned a lot.

I've found who I am again.

You know, people ask me constantly if I were able to go back and change anything, would I do it.  My answer is, and has always been

NO.

Everything that has happened to me, everything that I've gone through, every tear that I've cried, every heartache, every fear, has contributed to make me who I am...and I wouldn't change that for the world.  Yeah, it's hard...it hurts.  

IT SUCKS! But, I wouldn't change it for the world.

Two Years....it seems like a lifetime ago.

Busy Busy Busy

So, I want to interact with ya'll and tell you more of what's going on...

BUT....

I'm so gosh darn busy lately.

I think I may be a bit on the crazy side.  I've taken FIVE upper level classes this semester.

Then I have the FIVE clubs that I'm a member of.

I'm an officer in FOUR of those clubs.

I'm president of TWO of those clubs.

Oh yeah, did I mention the internship I accepted this semester?

Yeah, got that covered also.

So, as you see...if my posts are sporadic again, it's a GOOD busy!

I'm really enjoying things this semester so far, tomorrow is the end of the third week of school.

Oh yeah...I received word last night that I get to go to SFA Days in Austin in a couple weeks.  

I will be taking a lot of pictures and posting them when I go! Also, I will be posting pictures of my adventures in Amtgard (also the LARP club).  Stay tuned.

I HAVE FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT

You see...when you lose soeone, you are supposed to have time to grieve.  Me, however, I never had that chance...I had to continue and try to maintain some sense of normal..  I had to continue in school, I had to fight for a place to live...I had to survive.

So, for the past year and a half, I've been in survival mode...and not too many people realize that.  They expected me to be OK, but guess what...I'M NOT!!!

It is a daily struggle to wake up and know that I wasn't good enough to be a wife, that I wans't worth the time it took to say "f*** you, I don't want to be with you anymore"...and yet all this time, I haven't been able to grieve.

When I lost Emily, I pretended like everything was OK, that I didn't just lose my only daughter...I tried to go on, and it almost killed me...LITERALLY. 

Then, June 2015 I came home to my current nightmare.  While trying to continue school, and pretend that everything is OK, my life has been falling apart.  You can't build a house on quicksand and expect it to not sink.  The same is true for a person whose heart and soul have been shartered.  I was too busy trying to pretend nothing was wrong that I lost myself.  

My security was stolen, my trust was shattered and my sense of safety was thrown out the window.  What was left?  My faith?  I'm holding on to that by a thread.

And, during this whole time I've not had one person say "It's going to be OK Marci, please just cry on my shoulder"...NOT ONE!

See, inside every adult there is still this little child that wants to be held when they're hurting and scared, and I've lived the past year and a half scared to death.

I haven't had the time to crawl under the table and get my bearings...I haven't had the time to mourn anything.  I've just had to survive...and a person can only live in survival mode for so long before they crack...and guess what??? I'm there!

NO, IT'S NOT THE STRESS OF TAKING 15 HOURS, OR BEING TOO INVOLVED...THAT IS WHAT HAS KEPT ME SANE...I've been too busy to think about what I've lost, and believe me it's a lot more than you think.  When you have a parent that chases you down the block with a butcher knife, you have to take a little extra time to find your safe spot...if you even have one.  I had one, or so I thought...however, I haven't been able to get back there since my life fell apart.  I've had to pretend to be strong because others were counting on me...others were looking up at me....never realizing that that pillar that I was standing on had cracks everywhere and it was only a matter of time before it crashed down.  And yet, when it does crash, I'm still expected to go on like nothing is happening.  

There are very few people that really KNOW me.  I've been guarded most of my adult life because of what happened to me as a child.  When you grow up in an abused house, you have no safety anywhere.  For me, it was always crawling under a table or a desk...some place where I could fit and feel secure.  

Not once have I had a person just sit with me and let me cry and grieve for all that I've lost this past year and a half...

NOT.

ONE.

TIME.

NEVER.

And maybe it's asking too much of people...maybe its too much for me to say, "look, I lost everything that was my security...please, just let me cry it out, let me be that little girl that needa a shoulder,"

And so, in being expected to just go on with things, I've lashed out...at friends that didn't deserve it.  At people that I've admired, and mentors...

Please, just let me cry it out...please, don't tell me it will be OK because it's not OK...everything is a mess and I would rather you be honest with me than expect me to go on as if my life didn't just come crashing down.  

So, if you see me and I say I'm fine, know that I'm not fine.

I've lost everything that meant anything close to "safe" and by saying I'm fine, I'm really saying, please, I just want a shoulder or a friend.

Let me rebuild, but first I have to grieve...and I haven't been able to grieve yet...so I am a big pile of mess that looks like everything is OK...when it's not.\

I miss my husband, yes he assaulted me, but that doesn't make me love him less...it just means that he needs help. So, even though he's not dead, it seems like it because the person I fell in love with is gone..  And, I'm still grieving for that man. 

So What? Does the Military really care?

You know, you hear of the soldiers with TBI and they get the treatment and the “classification” IF their TBI was actually diagnosed while they were still active duty.  But, what about those that retired right after they come back?  What about those that it didn’t even cross their mind that they might have gotten injured, and it was found out after they retired?  We know that my husband has a TBI; we know that he has PTSD.  The PTSD has been verified.  With the TBI, the best we could get out of the doctors is “it may or may not” have been from their service.  The question I have is this.  Where the hell else would my husband have gotten his head shaken so bad and on such a regular basis that the ventricles closed up and he has Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus.  Does anyone know why we’re having such a hard time getting the disability, and why we’re slowly drowning in our bills?  It’s because after his first surgery for a shunt, he became so ill, that we really were not worried about filling out the “required paperwork” for his disability.  Really, Uncle Sam…my husband means the world to me, and if he is in the hospital with the doctors baffled as to why he was so sick to begin with (they found the infection after he was in the hospital for a couple of days) why would you think that me sending in the paperwork with the exact instances of his experiences on time?  So, of course, all disability from the military got denied.  ALL OF IT!  The best we can hope for now is that they at least expedite his appeal, and from what we’ve been told, the “expedite” service can take at least two years!!!!

Now, because his TBI has not been “classified” as a service related injury, we do not (let me repeat that…DO NOT) qualify for any type of extra help.  He doesn’t get any therapy whatsoever for his brain injury.  Everything that has been done has been done by me, and there’s only so much that I can do.  Yes, I’m classified as a caregiver for my husband, but because he’s high functioning with his TBI, and we’ve found small ways to cope with this, and (oh yeah let’s not forget this one) it’s not “related” to his service YET, I get no outside help.  I pay the bills, I handle all the appointments, I help him with his schoolwork because he is determined to not let his TBI stop him.  So, on top of all that, I also have a 2 year old to take care of and a house to keep clean.  And let’s not forget the three times each week I stay up until 3 AM to help him with his homework, and then get up at 4 because our son doesn’t sleep through the night yet, and then again get up at 6am because that’s what time my son wakes up for the day.  There is very little time to take care of me.  I don’t get the respite care that other people with TBI get.  I don’t get the respite care that we so desperately need.  Instead, I’m a mom, a caregiver, a tutor, a secretary, a wife ALL THE TIME!

There’s only so much a person can handle until they break down, and guess what…I’m only holding on by a hair.  We’re in the process of losing our house, and very close to losing the truck also.  We haven’t had any funds to get more chickens for our farm because they were all killed last year while he was in the hospital.  I don’t know what it’s like to be able to take a day and get a manicure or pedicure, or even get a haircut and spend time just with me.  I’m too busy taking care of my husband and my son.  When I married my husband, I said for better or worse, and in sickness and in health…and I’m still here and would never leave my husband.  But, I REALLY REALLY REALLY wish there was some way for us to qualify for the respite care that others get…it all stems back to not being classified as a “service related” disability. 

I get on average of about 3-5 hours of sleep a night.  I help my husband with his homework so that he can at least get some sleep.  To help with our finances, I’ve started entering sweepstakes and contests.  A lot of those prizes that I do happen to win, I usually sell to pay our bills.  There are people that are able to go to Washington and tell the president, “Hey, we need help.”  And they are great advocates.  But what about those of use that are barely surviving?  What about those of use that have fallen through the cracks?  When do I get my respite?  When can I take a day and just relax?  Instead, I worry constantly about our bills.  I worry constantly about my husband.  I worry constantly about how to take care of our son.  I’ve become very thrifty.  I’ve learned how to use coupons.  We eat very cheap, like most of the time it’s rice and beans.  We let other things go, like my dental work.  In order to get our dental insurance it would be another $77 a month our of our already small checks.  So, I’m afraid to smile because of a broken tooth. 

I have a wonderful husband and a wonderful son.  My life has been very blessed.  At least my husband can function at the level that he does.  He is able to go to school with modifications.  If you were to look at him, you wouldn’t even know he has a brain injury.  But, when you talk to him, and he forgets what you say or you see him walk, and he doesn’t walk a straight line, that’s when you know.  That’s when you realize that any sense of normal left my life three years ago when his brain injury was detected.  Before then, he was taking on average of twenty aspirin a day, just to deal with the headaches.  You see in the papers, that the military is taking steps to get the soldiers their disability sooner…but how many can even hope to hold on to what they have when they’re unable to do the things they used to do.  What about the ones that are struggling to just SURVIVE?  Not to mention, what about those that the military agrees are caretakers?  Do I get a paycheck for taking care of my husband?  NO!  Do I get any days off, or any time to myself?  NO!  Do I get any recognition for all that I do or training to make some of it easier?  NO…everything that I’ve learned, everything that I use to help us, I found on my own, and have devised on our own. 

My husband served this country for 20 years!  He was in two wars, and has over ten different combat patches.  What do we have to show for this?  Over draft every week trying to survive, arrangements with the different bill companies to pay past the due date, and one VERY VERY VERY tired wife.  So, while everyone is focused on those soldiers that get injured in active duty, maybe they should also pay attention to those that the injury doesn’t show up until after they’ve retired or been discharged?  And especially those that don’t live close to any VA Hospital for the therapy that would benefit them?  There is a great need to look at those soldiers that are barely surviving on their own, without all the programs that are “designed” to help them!  Maybe our military should remember those soldiers!!  Maybe the military should also remember those that they have already said are caretakers, yet we don’t get paid one single penny!!  Those that are slowly falling apart because they’re doing way more than is humanly possible!  Maybe you should notice those spouses?  Notice that they are slowly falling apart!!

What is Luck?

What do you consider luck? According to the dictionary, luck is a force that brings good fortune OR adversity. It can be good or bad, but it's always luck. There are those that will say "I don't believe in Luck" or "I don't believe in fate", but it is there. Is it luck that a friend of mine, who usually curses road construction, was saved by it because it prevented a horrible crash? Is it luck that led me to meet my husband over 20 years ago, when I was just a teenager?

And what about the lucky "signs" or "charms" or even rituals that people have? They say that some people are luckier than others...I say it's how you personally view life.

The day that Monster was born, everyone was telling me how lucky I was that I had gone to the doctor that day, because if not, he probably would have been stillborn. I had an ultrasound with the high risk doctor that came up from Houston, and I had my normal ultrasound the next day. The pregnancy was mostly uneventful, though I had to be monitored closely because of the seizures I had and also because of the severe asthma I had. I almost didn't go to the ultrasound that morning. I figured "everything has been normal and the doctors are making a fuss out of nothing."

So, very reluctantly I went to the ultrasound even though I was horribly tired. As "luck" would have it, the doctor was running late because of traffic. The ultrasound tech didn't want to keep me waiting too long, and (in my guess) she was fairly new, because she was just "messing around" and looking at different measurements. I was joking with her almost the whole time. There was another tech that was with her, and they were talking about the way you could identify a baby with club foot (I freaked out at that one!) and other abnormalities. Since I am medically trained also, I knew that if she didn't learn about it on the job, it would be hard for her to know what she was looking at, so I was joking with them, and talking with them the whole time.

Then, when the doctor did finally get there, an hour later, the technician met her in the hallway. Nothing new to me, it's called "report". So, the doctor came in, and started the ultrasound, and then she was saying she agreed with the technician, and turned to me and said, "it's baby time, you need to go to the hospital now and they will either fly you to Houston or take you by ambulance." I FREAKED OUT AND STARTED CRYING...it was two months early!!! I asked her if I had time to go home and tell my husband and get some things, and she said "yes, but don't take too long, they will be expecting you at the hospital soon."

Needless to say, I got to the hospital and was there for thirty minutes, and was transferred to a hospital in Houston by LifeFlight. Monster was born later that day, at 5:36PM, by emergency c-section. Because, I was "lucky" and went to the ultrasound that morning, he was only in the NICU for two weeks. Had I skipped that appointment, things would have turned out differently.

Was it "luck" that the doctor and the technician saw the problems? Was it luck that I went to this appointment that I wanted to skip? Was it luck that the weather was good enough for the LifeFlight? Was it luck that my husband made it to the hospital, with literally 30 seconds to spare before Monster was born? Was it luck that Monster was relatively healthy at birth?

My answer to all those questions is YES! I'm an incredibly lucky woman! Many, many years ago, I had a miscarriage on May 5, but on May 5 Monster was born. I believe it was "luck" on both occasions. Even if some people see something as "bad" luck, it's still "luck" and it happens every day, right in front of our eyes. You don't even need to look that hard...Luck is all around you! Embrace it!

I wrote this blog post while participating in the Bookieboo and "Earthies Wants You to Feel Lucky" blogging program, making me eligible to win a pair of Earthies shoes and American Express Gift Cards. For more information on how you can participate, click here.