RE:turn to Tomorrow, pt 2

...where were we?

oh yeah, Christmas day.  and having to tap out.  it was necessary, i had nothing left.  i was hurting, i was tired, i hadn't slept, i couldn't have told you how anything i'd cooked up to that point actually tasted.  i just put it on auto-pilot and tried to get over the ocean.  and i made it.  and when i got home, i stripped down, got a gatorade and some ice water and laid it down with my urine bottle next to me. 

and then came the next chapter:  dehydration.  i started getting leg cramps.  constant and increasing.  i was scared.  making it home driving was about all i could manage; didn't know if i could make it anywhere else.  and, i was trying to fix me by myself, because i had to be at work on the 26th.  so, gatorade.  milk.  still running to the bathroom cause you can't squirt shit into a bottle.  until the diarrhea dried up. nothing left to squirt.  cramps kept coming.  i had eaten breakfast sandwiches on Christmas Eve, bout six-thirty in the morning.  had a tiny can of Pringles from the dollar store with the gatorade i bought about 12:30 same day.  ate half a peanut butter sandwich & six peanut butter open face crackers for breakfast on Christmas morning.  and it was all gone.  nothing in the fridge i could eat real quick.  had even already polished off my soup from the weekend, my flu fighting soup.  so i was in some trouble. 

God stepped in.  like He does, simply and majestically at the same time. 

my friend Matt from the Sunday meeting had been checking up on me, had some cookies his mom wanted me to have.  he found i was here with nothing to eat and had his mother fix me a plate.  i got the first of his family's christmas dinner, before  anyone else got a chance to eat..  she saved my life, literally.  turkey and the trimmings.  i ate most of it, put some in the fridge, and laid back down.  diarrhea returned, but only for a hot second.  drinking water, milk from the carton.  trying to stave off the cramps.  but they came back anyway.  now i'm really scared.  it's night.  Christmas night.  i don't know what to do.  if i don't make a decision, i'm going to be stuck with whatever's left in the morning.  i decide.  i call Lonnie; he can take me to the Austintown ER.  i call my boss, tell him what's going on.  i text Kim at Oak Street Health, tell her what's going on.  i text dude from Cleveland, one of our drivers at the center out there, a supervisor, tell him what's going on.  Lonnie arrives, we go to the emergency room. 

they get me in, get me checked on, vitals and ekg and all that good stuff.  pain levels according to me.  they do a urine on me, i think.  somehow, they come to the conclusion that i am in renal failure and advise checking me into St. E's.  i first object.  i'm not in renal failure, of course i'm not.  but can i be sure?  so i say, okay.  Lonnie goes home.  it's 2am.  by 3am, the ambulance has arrived to take me to St. E.  they almost drop the gurney.  the cot is narrow, i'm really swollen these days, really wide.  they get me there at three-thirty.  i'm taken to the 8th floor.  put in a bed next to a white guy sleep on his side.  his belly is huge,, hanging over the bed.  his hand is down his pants.  i ooomph myself over, keep going, have to pee.  feet weren't bothering me too much then.  i lay back down.  i can't sleep, but eventually i do. 

December 26th.  3:30 something in the morning.  i've got a fluid bag on.  i'm in my clothes, until they give me a robe in exchange for my shirt.  my coat is in a bag, and so is my spirit.  i don't think i can sleep, but the previous day i've had a total of 600 mgs of gabapentin. at some point in the day, i sleep.  can't keep my eyes open at first.  remember them taking my blood pressure and nodding with the pulsox on my finger, messing up her test.  pressure's high.  sugar's high.  night nurse, when i came in, doubted the renal failure thing too.  thought the dehydration release excessive protein into my urine and blood.  made sense to me.  still on fluids, being given ice water.  breakfast is good.  lunch and dinner are okay.  Matt comes in, has some books for me, stays for a good while.  i'm grateful, because no one else is coming.  don't want my parents to come, my brother would come but i'm not asking him to walk the distance just to see me.  i'll need him soon enough though.  job needs my van key.  Rich took his with him when he quit.  have to have my brother go to my house and get it out of my car and give to whomever it is that meets him there.  so that resolves that.  i rest.  i eat.  i pee a lot.  they want me to.  i take my meds.  i sleep.  guy in the next bed gets released.  eventually Matt leaves.  i turn on Doctor Who.  marathon binge-watch until i pass out from time to time during episodes.  i don't sleep great, but i sleep.

December 27th.  things to think about.  told my mom about being in the hospital finally, because i didn't know when i was being released.  told her i wanted no one coming to visit me; she interpreted it as tell no one i'm here.  but she told my sister.  sister calls, says mom's really sad cause i'm here.  i call her, learn that she's sad because of Rob, who died.  she's sad because Rachel told her, 'accidentally', that i was dealing with cancer.  i corrected my mother's thought process and moved on with the day.  rests, bloodwork, meds, eat, piss.  fluids.  texts.  thinking, it's Friday.  they had me order lunch & dinner.  will i get out this weekend?  depended on test results.  before breakfast came, they informed me i would be discharged that day.  no signs of renal failure.  only the gout pain has remained, but i'm not staying there for that.  i get breakfast, then i get released. 

my brother picks me up, takes me home, comes in for a minute and then heads back to his own life.  i'm laying down.  ankles brittle, broken glass, feet burning blocks of wood.  no diarrhea, no flu symptoms overt.  i rest.  Syd comes through with a plate and bottles of Gatorade.  i give her her Christmas present. grandson got his on Christmas.  i'm sleeping.  i'm waking, in pain.  it's Friday, though.  informed my boss i would be getting out, would be back to work on Monday.  informed the center as well.  now the race is on.  take my nighttime pills, pass out.  Saturday, feeling some better.  i eat some breakfast.  i do some cleaning, but not all.  i roll out briefly, actually make it to get some dinner.  i watch some television.  i keep it casual.  need to finish cleaning but i'll get to that.  pain increasing again.  need more black cherry juice.  Lonnie calls at night, hunting it down for me, drops it off, get to see Josh, first time since game night.  lot goin on with them, i say thanks, brought my medicine too, groovy. 

on to today.  woke up.  still limping about.  prayed, read my stuff, got a few versed of Luke read.  had breakfast, washed dishes.  moving slow, shoulda been out early early to hit the laundromat.  but can only do what the body say do.  get clothes done, sitting in a chair through most of it.  place is packed; last minute washing for all.  finish, hit my parent's house.  pay my mom's bills, talk to my brother, get black eyed peas and neckbones to cook for my father for the first of the year.  then it's the meeting.  small.  hurting, probably the shoes.  get home after, talking to some people on my way. i'm tired, i'm hurting, but i got to get some dinner together since i couldn't make a call in the car.  cacio e pepe, modified of course.  some buttered bread.  ice cream for dessert.  watch some tv.  talk to some people.  shave and shower.  put clothes on hangers in my front closet here.  make my bed, under new comforter.  now, i'm going to try to sleep. 

will i be pain free in the morning?  that's up to Jehovah.  I will go to work if i rise with the sun.  i will put in an honest day.  i will find something for dinner for tomorrow night. all things hinge on Jehovah's will, and so we'll see what the sunrise brings.  but that's been my whole so-called 'holiday' season so far.  and i am still in great anticipation of the clearer visions that lie ahead.  thank you, Father, and good night. 

Return to Tomorrow, pt 1 (i think)

well, it's been a minute, I know.  not deliberately at all this time.  I don't even know what the last thing is I wrote here.  but I know that I have been on a Ride, Jack.  and I can only hope it's over now, because I can't say one hundred that it is.  but that's what life is, in truth.  you can't say what the next minute will  bring, but you have to act in the next minute, even if the action you choose is to do nothing.  that's just how it goes.  at least, that's been the week for me.  and i'm going to cover the week, because tomorrow is back to the default position, and getting shit down in the Journey helps me to know i'm still on course.  one day, I really need to go back and read all these entries, from Orbit to Journey, from TOTI to HPH Transportation.  just so I can see what kind of a fucking ride this has REALLY been.  but for today...

so, day before Christmas, i'm working.  I had 2 clients starting out, only had one client as I began the actual runs.  the first one had called in to say they were rescheduling.  so most of the day was sitting around.  blessedly, it was only a half day.  but it was a half day of constant diarrhea, a half day of mid-level gout/neuropathy, a half day of blowing my nose, coughing and spitting when I could to try to keep moving the infection out of me.  and a half day of trying my best to get my gumption up to cook at my parent's house that evening.  not to mention, the running in and out of the cold didn't do me as much good as I thought it would.  sarcasm...


so I finish my day.  I've gone next door, got a Gatorade, trying to start the replenishing process, knowing I've reached some dangerous levels.  and I get to my parents. I had to stop at Aldi's first, and they didn't have what I needed, of course, so I had to get what they had.  green beans, I mean.  wanted to cook fresh, had to go with frozen. SO not the same.

I start my cooking.  cabbage in the crock pot, green beans on the stove top.  dressing.  i'm moving slow because there's no room in my parent's kitchen.  more on that in a moment, it's significant.  plus, i'm hurting.  the night is wearing on me.  I am going into the living room, sitting, elevating my swollen legs and knife-bitten feet for a break because there's only a high bar-style stool in the kitchen, which has never had room for a kitchen table in it.  but i'm pacing myself.  have to get the hard half done.  the turkey is the crux.  once that's in the oven, I can set it down for the night, for a few hours, and reset.  a good plan.

the best laid plan I had, of course.  and you know how that goes.  my dad, as is his wont, decides i'm apparently in HIS space, so he plops down in my 'rest' area to watch television.  and now i'm stuck, pretty much on my feet.  did I say my ASS WAS LEAKING the entire time?  and my mind starts to go dark.  because the door of realization starts to open, with the truth that my dad don't give a fuck about this dinner or anything else.  he only cares about getting what he wants.  like a little kid.  and as I look back, I see it more as a stamp over so much of my life and interaction with him.  and again, i'm trying to just keep going.

my mom, on the other hand...worrisome, worrying me with her worrying, trying hard to help when it's hard for her to do anything without pain or at a snail's pace.  just in the way, in a kitchen that, again, is too small for a table of it's own.  a kitchen table makes a lot of cooking possible and more fun for me, anyway.  can't speak for the next guy.  half-standing on swelling legs and gout/neuropathic flared feet is not.  it is the opposite of fun.

in the midst, i'm trying to clean as I go, because I've no space (without a kitchen table).  the little quarter-table (all I can call it) where the microwave sits is cluttered, all the counters are cluttered.  I begin to see, to SEE.  I start to realize that they have gone far down the rabbit hole, they have turned corners I didn't know they've turned.  my dad drops crackers in the couch, leaves crumbs, open food containers and shit all over the kitchen, spills shit and just walks away from it. when we were kids, if we'd done any of these things he did, if we'd done any one thing that he does, he'd have come in from work, or his meeting, pulled both me and Jerry from our beds (bed or beds?), beaten the shit out of us, making his point abundantly, made us clean up and then acted the next day like it never happened, I see my mom saving salt & pepper packets, salad dressing pouches, condiments from fast food purchases, bags, throwaway containers, etc.  I try to get rid of them, over and over, but they keep coming back. it gets my mind to racing, my sanity is slipping.  not gonna lie. i'm in pain, i'm trying to cook, i'm sick, i'm developing some resentment, and i'm weary.  and i'm growing dehydrated without knowing it.

okay, turkey in.  four to five hours.  living room is cleared.  so I sit in the living room.  put feet up, legs swollen, feet burning.  ass still running constantly.  Doctor Who keeps me company, I nod a time or two.  eventually, I just give up on getting sleep, revise the plan from the day before (it's Christmas now); I'm going to finish cooking and instead of staying at my parent's house, getting cleaned up and having dinner with the family that arrives, i'm going to go home and take some pills and sleep and try to get my shit back together.  I get the turkey out.  I get my pies in, get my mashed potatoes done, get my cobbler done and get my ham in the oven.  give my mom instructions, two hours, tops, and I gather my things and painfully make my way to my car.  I make it home.  i'm hurting, aching, coughing, limping, and my ass is running.  Christmas, 2019.  a very interesting trip so far, right?

i'll continue this when I get home (so this really is part one).  I have to get productive today.  

Lawd...

well.  it's Tuesday.  December 24th.  an interesting day, an interesting hour, to be sure.  to start with, i'm still sick.  i've been sick for awhile, but that's nothing new.  whatever this shit is that's going around is not playing; it is a whole new level of aggressive 'fuck-u-muthafucka' kinda viral infection.  it has beat me the fuck up like a gang of teens on meth, it has brought me as low as skid row, and to make matters worse, it decided to travel from my head down into my belly.  so now i'm squirting from my ass, just bubble-guts and trying to maintain forward momentum. well.  we do what we have to do.

my mother is in the kitchen chopping an onion.  she started chopping two onions last night.  i decided to wait, as i don't want her to feel like she can't help at all.  at the same time, my energy level is iffy, and i can only hope to work with efficiency and skill, so as to make my time in the kitchen as productive and brief as possible.  i will, however, be staying here tonight, so i can take my time for the most part.  but i hate the wait, though i like that she's trying to help.\

the second driver quit, so i'll have some extra days at work until they hire a new person.  i did not know him as a person, so i have no pros or cons about him quitting other than the inconvenience, and losing a worker when two people share all the responsibility will never be convenient.  but i can say i admire his stand-up-ness.  he came in yesterday, as he said he would, to work my shift while i went to the doctor.  if not for that, he would have quit on Monday, I suppose.  but he kept his word.  that's mostly all you can ask of a man, to be true to what he says.  of course, you should ask more, but that's enough. 

time for me to get started in the kitchen.  don't know what exactly i'm starting on, but it's gonna be good.  menu for tomorrow:

Turkey
Spiral Ham
Cabbage
Green Beans
sMashed potatoes
Mac N Cheese
Biscuits
sweet potato pie
peach cobbler
cake & brownies

think that's about enough.  i give a fuck about X-mas, but i like to cook for people.  we'll call it a draw.

thank you, Father, for the strength to get through work today. 

Sicksicksick...

ever just feel sick of being sick?  I mean, really?  not in the context of change, but truly just tired of the feeling of being immunocompromised, over and over throughout the years?  I am.  i'm tired of sick.  i'm tired of medication and achiness, tired of stuffy nose and echoey head, tired of being weak and just trying to find the wherewithal to keep it moving for a few more hours or minutes or days.  I am tired of it...yet i'm sick.  so there you go.  life don't give a fuck what I want or don't want, I get what I get.  and that's likely the true theme of this particular entry.

speaking of my energy level is like speaking about my personal belief in dinosaurs and pre-outlined evolution.  there's evidence it might once have existed, but again, those bones could mean anything at all.  don't judge me.  I am cold, but it's cold as fuck outside.  I am about to sip on a blend of black tea, green tea, hibiscus tea and generic thera-flu.  I ate two burgers for dinner, greedy, to be honest.  and I made a small pot of healing soup.  but I had no garlic cloves, and can't for the life of me remember when I used them.  I had minced garlic, but there's not as much power from the jar.  so I had to hope the jalapenos that heated that joker up will suffice for the night sweats I need.  my tire is reading low on the dashboard gauge, but I have no idea how much air it needs, so I put some air in and kept it moving for home.  best thing to do, I think.  i'll take it around to Walmart tomorrow between runs, if such a state exists tomorrow, and have them check it and fill it.  

today was about dealing with the terms life put on me today.  the morning wasn't bad, the afternoon was a gauntlet that I failed.  not with the clients, with staying awoke after the runs were done.  I stopped afterwards, got more meds, stuff for this soup and I got home.  almost stopped at the food cart, and I feel bad for not stopping.  but I did as much damage to myself here as I would have done there, without the fries, I guess.  so now i'm going to sip this brew, get myself wrapped in a comforter and hope tomorrow I feel some better.  

I've made arrangements for coverage on Monday so I can get to my doctor's appointment.  it's going to be one of those long, drawn out days.  but it gives me Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off.  i'll be at my parent's house on Tuesday and Wednesday, cooking and shit.  but still, I can hit this doctor office, see what's going on, and maybe move forward on some things that I've been neglecting.  we'll see when that time comes.

meanwhile, i'm exhausted and cold, as stated.  i'm going to take my noxious brew into the room and change and wrap up, and try to sink into unconsciousness.  regardless of me bitching here, i'm grateful.  when you pray to God for strength and you get through the day without folding, you should be grateful that prayer was answered, not rationalize your own superheroic efforts.  thank you, Father, for blessing me with the endurance to get to the end of this day.  i'm done.  

Da Fuck?

so yeah, 8 days ago I wrote something in this Journey.  and then I got lost somewhere inside my own life, and I didn't post anything in a week and a day.  and I don't know exactly how that happened, but i'm going to get back to it, because I kinda have to, and because it's kind of the right thing to do for myself.  right?

well, I know I've hit a point of feeling very shitty lately.  and i mean pure physical discomfort, but that does translate into mental and emotional turmoil, sad to say.  i don't think it can help it.  i think those things just run hand in hand, don't you? but to be honest, sleep has been a concept at best, one that i can't seem to figure out, therefore i am not getting it in in any significant amounts. such as last night, when again i did not sleep at all, watching the hours creep away until i needed to be up for work.  there is so much suckage in that, it makes for a fucking miserable day.  but i powered through, better than the last time i did this to myself, and what that shows me is I still have the capacity for growth and change.  still, it doesn't make it right or better.  and what's more, it's tied in to my sense of physical discomfort, which is likely the understatement of the year.  this would be the place where you turn away if you are easily grossed out.  i don't attempt to make anyone suffer but I have to put this down the way it is.  disclaimer has been issued.

lately i've not had very good control of much of my bodily functions.  and i don't mean peeing or shitting on myself, though i come close to each of those.  i mean, when i pee, it's usually strained.  and when i strain to pee, i sometimes have to sit and contemplate a number 2 because it threatens to launch itself forth despite no orders having been issued. the irony there is, when i sit to take a shit, most of the time its very inconsistent, very loose feces, very thick and clingy.  i've been upping my bran and fiber intake, trying to make some changes in my bowels.  but remember, this is all on the heels of a prostate cancer treatment.  so is there some tie-in?  is that some kind of indication that the treatment hasn't worked?

in addition, i've noticed lately my urine has a very strong smell.  i'd almost be willing to subscribe to a touch of whatever heebie-jeebies are going around right now, but it still concerns me, the timing.  and then there's the part where i don't shit at all.  where i go for a couple days without a bowel movement, where my stomach is so swollen my pants are tight.  and yes, i need to get to the plan, back to exercise, whatever.  but i truly have no energy for that shit.  the walk i took the other day, just a mile, first time i ever had to stop on the way to rest, chest pounding like a bellows, feeling light headed and weak.  first time.  when i started walking in the summer, i could walk without stopping.  now, my legs swell at night, my body doesn't eliminate waste properly and i have no energy at all most days.  this gives me something to tell my doctor when i call to make an appointment tomorrow.  yes, i have the willingness to do that.  i'm not stupid.  i don't just count myself as being weak or fucked up.  but it does make me apprehensive.  and i won't lie about my emotional content for anyone.  

everyone i know is catching a bit of this hell.  my brother is worse, my mother is worse, my dad is still paranoid as fuck.  but Syd and the grande-monster are doing okay, Deja is still doing his private cooking, and life goes on.  so i won't complain.  i'll seek answers and i'll strive to get shit taken care of.  there's nothing else to do.  

having written all that, my plan for tonight is to take a something so i can ensure sleep and to go into sleep and stay there until i wake up and that's all i got.  i hope it works.  i thank Jehovah for bringing me safely through this day, because i had no personal guarantee from inside that that would happen.  i'll hit this tomorrow.

Gatherings...

Sunday morning.  it's been a week, it's been interesting and productive, it's been something to consider, that's for sure.  I can't ask for any more than this, literally, for the week itself is done, and there is only the day ahead.  but even if I could, I wouldn't ask for any changes.  it has been something nice.  

it's been half a minute since I wrote, and I haven't meant to let time slide by.  it's been active, that's the reality, and it slips my mind as I consider the activities of the coming day.  but that just serves as a self-reminder to slow the hell down, and take the entire day as the entire day, and let tomorrow's worries come when tomorrow does.  so I can do better, and I will.  

from counseling Wednesday, where I learned I still have to value myself and my worth more, and that is a good thing to realize and receive help to see in oneself, to the work of Thursday and Friday, which was hectic and non-stop, and I learned some things about the people that I work around, though not with, because I drive for the company that drives for them, it was an educational experience all the way around. I learned how people on my job are scrambling to show competency, how they are trying to stay personally relevant, which means an ax is somewhere in the background waiting to fall.  I learned that my co-driver may be in jeopardy, and that he is feeling the crunch but isn't really responsive to it.  that's not good, and it doesn't bode well for him.  I learned that I don't like when someone tries to make me look incompetent in a way that I am not.  In new or old situations there is always the chance a person will have to learn something new, will have to adjust and adapt their way of doing things to a new way of things being.  and that should never cause undue friction, because it's going to happen.  it's like losing one's mind because a shoelace breaks.  it is going to happen one day, and all you can do is replace the lace.  however, I keep in mind that we live in a world that once kept extra shoelaces for just such situations, and now probably doesn't.  and I refer to myself, and I know that if I broke a lace, i'd have to change shoes and buy another pair later, and I think that's what life analogy i'm going for here.  someone tried to make it seem as if I wasn't working fast enough because they were not given accurate information to pass on to me to do my job right.  and that scared them because they are already fearing they're not doing their job right.  it is a bit much, but I adjust and I keep it moving, because there's not one other thing to do, honestly.  what can you do?  you see change, you adjust.  you don't adjust, eventually you make yourself obsolete to the system that you were a part of before your obstinacy took over your life.  

got through the week, though. it's Sunday.  tomorrow, God willing that I wake, I work and then off for another 2 days.  and in the interim, I had friends by for food and games last night.  

always funny/sad to me, how much stock is placed in people being able to be a part of something.  and I mean that focused on me as well as my friends.  we don't gather just to chill anymore.  we don't come together and break bread as a rule without an occasion.  we see more of family at funerals than we do at holidays.  I was reminded of the habit in black families once upon a time of having many Sunday dinners in the course of a month.  all would gather who were in town, and it could be counted upon for good food and good company.  I miss that like you wouldn't believe.  so to have my friends come, bring some food, eat some food, drink some drink and smoke some smoke (not me on the last part), and laugh and talk and let their spirits show and their hairs down, it was some really nice shit.  my daughter came, a co-worker from the old place who has issues with sociability that I can relate to showed up, and we had fun and we hung out.  and I slept much better than I had been so it was therapeutic for me as well.  i'm sorry that the One who Remains Nameless here didn't stay over, but sometimes you have to accept that things are supposed to be a certain way for a certain reason, and that the working out of that reason is far more important than immediate self-gratification.  and I believe that was the case. so we had fun, and it's sunday now, and I've got a one o'clock meeting and I have to see my parents.  and i'm going to get my shit together for work tomorrow.  I've had a good breakfast, had coffee, read my stuff and took my meds.  i'm going to get out of this cold for a bit, and i'll get on with my day shortly.  but it was important to log, to get back to my travels, and to say thank you to Jehovah, for the gathering of spirits and the breaking of bread with friends.  

Again, So...

It's Wednesday.  seven in a god-forsaken morning, apparently.  i'm pretty weary, still.  but i'm up.  I've prayed, I've exercised and read and taken my medication.  i'm about to eat something, I guess, gather up my clothes, get one load in the wash and dry.  i'm invested in a partial schedule today, but I don't know where exactly that's going to lead me, so i'm just going to play a lot of this by ear, except three o'clock, when I have counseling.  

I don't know what's going on with my sleep, as in it's not happening very well right about now. I toss and turn most of the night, most nights. I took a gabapentin last night as I was having a gout/neuropathic flare, but I can't honestly say that the lack of sleep DIDN'T facilitate the flare to create the need for the pill.  I have to leave some of that shit alone.  'when you're taking every kind of pill, nothing seems to ever cure your ill'.  Parliament, 'Funkentelechy'.  

still, they haven't been bad days, just restless, I suppose.  but that's not the best state of being for me either.  the cold has come, bitter and brittle.  the house is cold, and if I turn the heat way up it is stifling.  I don't want to get into having an 80 degree heating bill. may have to just invest in more layers of clothes, but I pretty much hate being fully dressed at home.  I don't think that's weird; home is where you're supposed to be comfortable, right?

regardless, I have shit to do today.  got to pay my primary bills.  got to pay some secondary shit as well.  got to get clothes washed, got to get things straightened out a bit, as I may have guests this weekend.  I got to get some time with my parents.  I wanted to go to the movies on my days off, but I don't think that's going to fit in.  I will get there, though.  maybe sunday, something is going to be sacrificed as far as committed time goes.  I need some ME time, and that right soon. 

talking to She who Won't be Named here, yesterday.  she is upset because she's got an either/or progress choice that she's making, and it is feeling like a loss to her.  talking to young people is no longer my forte.  it's funny sometimes, how you come to the realization that your thought processes have altered without you knowing it.  I don't know how to sit and cluck sympathetically and say 'uh-huh', 'mmhmm', yes, go on, etc.  I only know how to speak either what I see when the pieces fall together or what I've experienced in a similar situation.  OR, I know how to shut the fuck up.  and when someone tells me something about how they are having to sacrifice something they don't want to to get to where they say they want to go, I want to make sense of it, and if I can't, then I want to not be bothered with it.  but I have to remember, sometimes  being a friend means allowing someone their bullshit.  you try to take it from them, because it's the right thing to do.  but then you let them have it if they protest, because they have a right to sit in their shit.  went through the same thing with my mom yesterday.  she hurts, her doctor is not helping her, but she doesn't want to change doctors or be truthful about what's really going on with her.  fear of alienating a doctor?  I know a lot of the elder generation place great stock in loyalty to individuals.  one grocery store, one baker, one brand of car or whatever.  but sometimes you have to be willing to at least try something different.  and if you're not, then you have a right to your own pain, your own misery, your own bullshit.  it's the same as with me.  I know people have tried to tell me right things and my ego didn't allow me to respond to them, and they left me where I was until I was ready to get out of my shit.  that's life, darlin'.

well, we're going to see.  I have been more active, more involved lately.  I like it but it's scary too.  when you invest more, you stand to lose more, or have more taken away when people decide to fade on you.  love is a fucking gamble, and I just don't know if that's what it's supposed to be.  but I guess if it wasn't, you'd never feel like a winner when you have it, eh?

thank you, Jehovah, for allowing my mind to process things this morning.