Category Archives: Life

Streaming

I took some Dayquil this morning, so bear with me as we go on a journey of my confused consciousness. I don’t handle medication well. Although at the moment I am very calm, slow, and sleepy, none of which are unwelcome feelings.

First off, who’s interested in what’s going on with the van lately? I know I’m not, but I’m living it, so let me just share that we still don’t have our van back. We are on our fourth rental, because they keep having to take the rentals back to service them. Right now, I think we’re driving a Toyota. Or a Dodge? Who cares. The point is that neither Mobility Works nor Braun, which is the company who converted the van, know what is wrong with it. So they will be redoing the entire conversion, an exercise that will take something like three weeks. Everyone’s being really nice about it, and we do have the rentals, so getting around has been fine. Still, I’d like to end the saga of the van and move on to something else.

I have school fundraising calls to make this morning. And I’m still working on finishing up my video for A Life Story, which involves going through photos and boxes to find appropriate items to share as part of the B roll, the stuff they flash up on the screen while you hear my voice talking about what my life used to be like. While the filmmakers were going through a box of my things, they found a gangsta rap coloring book that my former team at work had decorated when I left the Bay Area for New York back in 2005. I don’t think that the gangsta rap coloring book should be a part of my movie, but I was pleased to see it once again. Coloring, like many things, is a skill I no longer possess. Read More>

|Categories: Life, Progression, Relationships, Venting | Tags: , , , , | Permalink

The Golden Beads

Otto sleeps in a crate next to Rob’s side of the bed. He’s not a quiet sleeper. First of all, he snores like a drunk old man. Second, at various times during the night he moves around in his crate so roughly and wildly that I’m almost positive he is transforming into some kind of werewolf, and that when he finally bursts out of his crate, he’ll be wearing a cape he fashioned using only his doggie blankets.

It can be hard to sleep through.

I’m back to wearing the BiPap with nasal pillows at night, which has really put a damper on my goal to never have anything that far up my nose. I’m also using the chinstrap, which helps me keep my mouth closed while I’m sleeping. To quote my friend Kevin Swan, the chinstrap has definitely not brought the sexy back. It makes me look like an emaciated high school wrestler, but I must admit I’m sleeping better.

I can no longer lift my left arm over my head for a stretch, and it’s been ages since my right was able to move that way. So I wake up in the middle of the night with shoulder pain, and if it’s really bad, I have to wake Rob and ask him to raise my arms towards the head of the bed. Obviously, this is the highlight of his night, especially when he was comfortable and snoring just as loud as Otto. Read More>

|Categories: Life, Parenting, Relationships, Venting | Tags: , , , , | Permalink

Letter to a Friend

Dear _____,

I was just thinking about who to write, when your name popped into my head. You’d think it would make more sense to write to people who are still alive. They’d probably appreciate it, and in fact, I do owe several people notes and emails. But you are the one I want to write to. Or if I’m saying this grammatically, you’re the one to whom I want to write. It’s just that that sounds so formal, and I don’t remember you being extremely formal.

Next week is the third anniversary of your death. We didn’t actually know each other that well, but I think about you all the time, because your death was so sudden and shocking, and because you left behind three young girls. I’m sharing this letter with people who don’t know your story, so I have to explain that you didn’t have ALS. But of course you know that. You were in the hospital having surgery to fix a blood clot – – is that the right way to say it? – – when you had a heart attack. You were 42.

How has it been three years? I remember coming to your house when I was pregnant and meeting your daughters. The youngest one was only 10 months old at the time. I remember sitting in your backyard and eating salads topped with freshly grilled chicken and laughing, because you were a really easy laugher, a trait I deeply admire. Read More>

|Categories: Life, Relationships | Tags: | Permalink