Here it is Tuesday morning and I am at work sitting at my desk. The phones have not begun to light up yet, so I am enjoying the serenity of the morning. I've made the rounds and updated everyone on Jonas' status and that Andrew is once again in rehab. To tell you the truth, I don't really know how Andrew is doing, I haven't spoken with him since last week on the night he went to the ER. For now, I'm just waiting on my first call of the morning. A productive day at work will do me a lot of good.
Last night we had a lovely evening with Alex and Lindsey. We introduced them to Copelands restaurant and they loved it. I think they will be going back! It was a nice change to be out enjoying a delicious meal while spending time visiting with them. We will be doing it again very soon.
I treated myself last night. We had sometime before we met up with Alex and Lindsey so we went to the Brighton store. I had my Valentine's Day gift card that I way dying to spend. I found a beautiful bracelet and a pair of dangling earrings. I just simply adore their jewelry. Next I went to Sephora. I had never been, but had heard tales of others not being able to leave without spending hundreds of dollars. After being there, I can see why! It is the Holy Grail of makeup stores. I made it out of there with just three paltry items - eye shadow primer, Buxom lip gloss, and Bare Minerals cheek color. What restraint!
Talked with Dr Davis last week and he added a Klonopin to the middle of the day. What a difference that has made. Since then there has been no heart palpitations or headaches. And if ever a time I had a reason to have them, the last few days would have produced them. Lots of times I feels like I am still on the verge of chest palpitations but it just doesn't quite kick into full gear. Prolonged stress kicks my butt everytime.
Wednesday I am going to do something I haven't done in a long, long time - treat myself to a pedicure! I might even get a manicure too. It is time to begin pampering myself a little bit. I used to go every two weeks like clockwork and haven't been in months. Look at it as part of the road to recovery.
I leave for Florida in a week and a half. It is about time I get my bags out and start packing. Ah, to wear capris and short sleeves and flip flops! Totally different than the blue jeans, long sleeves, fleece and Dansko's I have been wearing. I'm going to dig my toes in that Florida sand again. We are going to see the play "Menopause" - can't wait - and going to the beach to bask in the warmth of the sun. I get in on Monday and Tuesday Mom is throwing a Fat Tuesday party with all the old gang! There will be Zydeco music and dancing and drinking and games and great fun! I am counting the days down. T-11.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
48 Hours on a Wooden Roller Coaster
Last Thursday and Friday were something else. I don't even know where to begin.
Thursday I called off work in the morning so I could take Jonas to the doctor. I hate calling in, especially because it is my grandson, and not myself. It just feels wrong. But I have to do what I have to do. I never should have volunteered to work on a day Linda had clinicals.
Jonas had been sick all week. I took him to see Dr Irwin on Thursday and he was diagnosed with pnemonia. She did not like that his pulse oxygen saturation was running at 92%. Instead of putting him in the hospital that day, she gave him a different oral antibiotic, a Rocephin shot, and told us to do updrafts every 4 hours. She gave him a return appointment for Friday morning.
During the office visit I got a call from Andrew with him crying saying he had been kicked out of Williamsburg. He had not even been in there two weeks! I told him he would have to deal with it due to Jonas having pnemonia and I have to go to work immediately after the appointment. I had no time or patience for dealing with his self-inflicted problem. Eventually Andrew went to a homeless shelter to spend the night. On my way home from work, Chuck calls me and tells me that Andrew is in the ER at UAMS. He had been beat up and knifed in the abdomen. We get there, find out that his injuries are minor, and take his happy little ass back to the homeless shelter- one of the hardest things I have ever done.
Friday morning, the clinical picture was not better, in fact, it was a little worse, so Jonas was admitted to the hospital. I had to call in to work that morning to take him to his appointment because Linda could not miss her clinicals. After the appointment, I left Nader and Chuck with Jonas at the hospital. Even though it broke my heart to leave him, I went to work. When I arrived at work, Tiffany insisted I go be with Jonas, talked with our boss, Donna, and I was given permission to leave. You can't imagine how grateful I was. When I arrived back at the hospital, I was there just in time to hold his hand during the placement of his IV. Spent most of the day there with him, poor thing, crying everytime someone with scrubs would walk into the room.
Found out Friday that Andrew walked from Little Rock to North Little Rock, approximately six miles, to get to the rehab center he had just previously been in. Somehow, miracle of miracles, they accepted him back in, without a cent to his name. Maybe he has learned something, like how he doesn't want a life on the street. Just maybe this time rehab will mean something. I hope.
Jonas is doing so much better this Sunday morning. He is no longer on oxygen, his O2 saturation is staying above 95%. He has color in his cheeks and is playful. I have the afternoon off and will be spending it at the hospital with him while I watch the Daytona 500. Maybe he will get to go home today!
Thursday I called off work in the morning so I could take Jonas to the doctor. I hate calling in, especially because it is my grandson, and not myself. It just feels wrong. But I have to do what I have to do. I never should have volunteered to work on a day Linda had clinicals.
Jonas had been sick all week. I took him to see Dr Irwin on Thursday and he was diagnosed with pnemonia. She did not like that his pulse oxygen saturation was running at 92%. Instead of putting him in the hospital that day, she gave him a different oral antibiotic, a Rocephin shot, and told us to do updrafts every 4 hours. She gave him a return appointment for Friday morning.
During the office visit I got a call from Andrew with him crying saying he had been kicked out of Williamsburg. He had not even been in there two weeks! I told him he would have to deal with it due to Jonas having pnemonia and I have to go to work immediately after the appointment. I had no time or patience for dealing with his self-inflicted problem. Eventually Andrew went to a homeless shelter to spend the night. On my way home from work, Chuck calls me and tells me that Andrew is in the ER at UAMS. He had been beat up and knifed in the abdomen. We get there, find out that his injuries are minor, and take his happy little ass back to the homeless shelter- one of the hardest things I have ever done.
Friday morning, the clinical picture was not better, in fact, it was a little worse, so Jonas was admitted to the hospital. I had to call in to work that morning to take him to his appointment because Linda could not miss her clinicals. After the appointment, I left Nader and Chuck with Jonas at the hospital. Even though it broke my heart to leave him, I went to work. When I arrived at work, Tiffany insisted I go be with Jonas, talked with our boss, Donna, and I was given permission to leave. You can't imagine how grateful I was. When I arrived back at the hospital, I was there just in time to hold his hand during the placement of his IV. Spent most of the day there with him, poor thing, crying everytime someone with scrubs would walk into the room.
Found out Friday that Andrew walked from Little Rock to North Little Rock, approximately six miles, to get to the rehab center he had just previously been in. Somehow, miracle of miracles, they accepted him back in, without a cent to his name. Maybe he has learned something, like how he doesn't want a life on the street. Just maybe this time rehab will mean something. I hope.
Jonas is doing so much better this Sunday morning. He is no longer on oxygen, his O2 saturation is staying above 95%. He has color in his cheeks and is playful. I have the afternoon off and will be spending it at the hospital with him while I watch the Daytona 500. Maybe he will get to go home today!
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Wee Hours of the Night
I feel so self indulgent when I talk about how I feel, but then I remember why I started this blog. To help others understand bipolar disorder a little better and what better way to do that than to write about how I am coping when I am down.
For the last month or so my sleep has been very disjointed. I go to bed early, around 8 or 9 o'clock. Then I wake up at midnight or so for at least an hour, and if I'm not working the next day, I stay up later. I find it is a great time to write because my head is clear. None of the previous days activities are lingering to bother me and the next days worries are not here yet. Depending on how late I stay up, I may get up again around 4 or 5 o'clock.
Being awake in the night when the rest of the world is sleeping is somehow liberating. Even when I am all alone, the night time is mine. There are no interruptions from the outside world. I enjoy being alone at night, not so much though during the day though, weird huh? So I have to be awake at night to enjoy my night time aloneness and state of mind. Does that make any sense at all?
During the night there is no kitchen to clean or laundry to do- things like that just aren't done after midnight. One either sleeps, reads, blogs, plays on the computer or watches TV. I like writing. I have come to the game a little late. Yet I found that it suits me well. Neurons that haven't been used in a long time are being fired off, especially when I tell a story. There is a creative process at work.
I digress. Or maybe not. I think when I am writing, which I do best at night, I do not feel the heaviness of depression. At night I am way less like to feel the pressure of being depressed if I am distracted by writing. If I can only put my fingers to the keyboard and get started, if I have a decent subject, then it flows out of me. Depression stands at bay, not interrupting my alone time in the quietness of the wee hours of the night.
For the last month or so my sleep has been very disjointed. I go to bed early, around 8 or 9 o'clock. Then I wake up at midnight or so for at least an hour, and if I'm not working the next day, I stay up later. I find it is a great time to write because my head is clear. None of the previous days activities are lingering to bother me and the next days worries are not here yet. Depending on how late I stay up, I may get up again around 4 or 5 o'clock.
Being awake in the night when the rest of the world is sleeping is somehow liberating. Even when I am all alone, the night time is mine. There are no interruptions from the outside world. I enjoy being alone at night, not so much though during the day though, weird huh? So I have to be awake at night to enjoy my night time aloneness and state of mind. Does that make any sense at all?
During the night there is no kitchen to clean or laundry to do- things like that just aren't done after midnight. One either sleeps, reads, blogs, plays on the computer or watches TV. I like writing. I have come to the game a little late. Yet I found that it suits me well. Neurons that haven't been used in a long time are being fired off, especially when I tell a story. There is a creative process at work.
I digress. Or maybe not. I think when I am writing, which I do best at night, I do not feel the heaviness of depression. At night I am way less like to feel the pressure of being depressed if I am distracted by writing. If I can only put my fingers to the keyboard and get started, if I have a decent subject, then it flows out of me. Depression stands at bay, not interrupting my alone time in the quietness of the wee hours of the night.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Depression Again?
Recently, I have put together some facts.
- Two weeks ago I had immobilizing back spasms. It took a good three days of rest, heat and muscle relaxers to get my back to relax enough to go back to work and function.
- One week ago I had a debilitating migraine headache that sent me to bed for two and half days. After taking a migraine medication and many Lortab, I was able to get it under control, even though my head was sore for days.
- Prior to that I had seen my psychiatrist and he had increased my medication ever so slightly because I am having increased depression.
- I have been having chest palpitations for the last several weeks and have been having to take my Bystolic to control it.
- I cannot get enough sleep! I am sleepy all the time regardless how much sleep I get.
- And not least of all, I am having great difficulty writing, coming up with subjects, and just the whole process itself.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Let it Snow!
Snow is falling across the state and soon will be on our doorstep. Meteorologist are predicting anywhere from 4 to 8 inches will fall today over a 12 hour period. Our high today is going to be 28 degrees. In anticipation of this "major winter storm" all the schools over the states have have closed taking a preemptive position. Coworkers have taken rooms at the local hotel for Wednesday night due to the highly anticipated blizzard.
It takes me back to a weekend I spent in Birmingham. It was a Friday night and Ellis' weekend to have the kids. The flurries began in Birmingham on our way to Tuscaloosa. By the time we made that 45 miles, there was 3 good inches on the ground and it was coming down hard. I had to make it back to Birmingham, then to Scottsboro; my doubts were mounting. When I drove into Birmingham and headed North, the streets were bare, of cars that is. It had come down so fast and heavy you couldn't tell where the road began or ended. The Saturn turned into a snowplow. I had to admit defeat and find a place for the night. Easier said than done. I finally found a mom and pop motel deep in the heart of Irondale, once a working class neighborhood, now a run down less desirable side of town. Like most of Birmingham that weekend, they had no electricity, but they had a bed and water, so I was in.
Maybe in the light of day, the roads would begin to clear and I could make it home. BIG problem. Twelve inches in all had fallen over night. Totally unpredicted. I was stranded. I had another BIG problem on my hands. That weekend was meant for studying for I was to have finals the next week. And I did not have a single book with me. So I finally quit worrying myself to death, and I became friends with my "new neighbors" who were in similar predicaments. We played cards, took long walks in the snow, and told stories of our lives. What a weekend to remember. Captured in a different place, totally outside of my life, all because of the snow. I Love Snow !
It takes me back to a weekend I spent in Birmingham. It was a Friday night and Ellis' weekend to have the kids. The flurries began in Birmingham on our way to Tuscaloosa. By the time we made that 45 miles, there was 3 good inches on the ground and it was coming down hard. I had to make it back to Birmingham, then to Scottsboro; my doubts were mounting. When I drove into Birmingham and headed North, the streets were bare, of cars that is. It had come down so fast and heavy you couldn't tell where the road began or ended. The Saturn turned into a snowplow. I had to admit defeat and find a place for the night. Easier said than done. I finally found a mom and pop motel deep in the heart of Irondale, once a working class neighborhood, now a run down less desirable side of town. Like most of Birmingham that weekend, they had no electricity, but they had a bed and water, so I was in.
Maybe in the light of day, the roads would begin to clear and I could make it home. BIG problem. Twelve inches in all had fallen over night. Totally unpredicted. I was stranded. I had another BIG problem on my hands. That weekend was meant for studying for I was to have finals the next week. And I did not have a single book with me. So I finally quit worrying myself to death, and I became friends with my "new neighbors" who were in similar predicaments. We played cards, took long walks in the snow, and told stories of our lives. What a weekend to remember. Captured in a different place, totally outside of my life, all because of the snow. I Love Snow !
What's on Your Bucket List?
I've been thinking about all the things I would like to do in my lifetime. It's fun to actually put the thoughts to a page and legitimize their existence. Here is my list; why don't you do the same.
- Take Jonas to Disney when he is about 5 to meet his favorite characters- the cast of "Toy Story"
- Go on an Alaska Cruise
- Go snorkeling and deep sea fishing in Cozumel while staying in an All-Inclusive Resort
- Spend time with my brother sight-seeing in Colorado, and spending time in the snow, of course
- Have regular family reunions (every 5 years) for life!
- Go to New York City and see all the sights
- Go back to London and do the museums and Harrods again
- Go to the German themed water park in Texas
- Eat lobster in Maine fresh off the boat
- Go to the Biltmore Estate at Christmas time
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Anatomy of a Headache
I just went through an experience I do not wish to repeat- a severe migraine headache. Here it is Tuesday and I am at work, and I still have about 20% of the original headache. It all started Sunday while I was working. It was all innocent enough, starting as any regular headache does, and I thought I was doing good, getting on top of it early with a BC powder. I took it and didn't pay any attention to it. Next thing I knew I couldn't wear my headset or my glasses. They both were pinching my throbbing head. The light was too stark white and hurting my eyes.
Oh no, that's when I began to realize I might be getting a migraine. Chuck brought me a Percocet and I took a 30 minute siesta. When I awoke, my head was feeling so much better, maybe this migraine was averted. But no, with less than 20 minutes left in the shift, the throbbing pain in my head began creeping back to life. I made it home okay. I took another Percocet and went straight to bed. I was up and down all night, vomiting and in pain. I've never experienced such torture as this headache has been.
The next morning at 8:01 I called my doctor's office for an appointment and got in at 10:45. I had to drive myself there because no one else was available. I was prescribed Trixemet, (one of the new migraine meds) Lortab and Phenergan. When I got home I took the Trixemet. Within 20 minutes I felt extremely weird. I became weak and heavy all over. My mind went to a different dimension even though I was still within the boundaries of this galaxy. I thought I was going to have a panic attack it came on so quickly but I was able to talk myself through it. My breathing never changed and my heartbeat never quickened. But something sure as shit happened!!
I was afraid to go to sleep, but that was all I could do. And I slept the sleep of angels. Hours later I woke up and the absolute worst of the headache was gone. I would say I was left with about 30% and the soreness.
Come to find out the medication that brought me such relief could have brought me harm. Something called Serotinin Syndrome. Turns out if you take an antidepressant, you're not suppose to take Trixemet. It can produce some pretty horrible side effects, like death and coma. For real. Glad I am with you all today! I will let the Lortab take care of what's left of the headache for now, got to reevaluate this Trixemet.
Oh no, that's when I began to realize I might be getting a migraine. Chuck brought me a Percocet and I took a 30 minute siesta. When I awoke, my head was feeling so much better, maybe this migraine was averted. But no, with less than 20 minutes left in the shift, the throbbing pain in my head began creeping back to life. I made it home okay. I took another Percocet and went straight to bed. I was up and down all night, vomiting and in pain. I've never experienced such torture as this headache has been.
The next morning at 8:01 I called my doctor's office for an appointment and got in at 10:45. I had to drive myself there because no one else was available. I was prescribed Trixemet, (one of the new migraine meds) Lortab and Phenergan. When I got home I took the Trixemet. Within 20 minutes I felt extremely weird. I became weak and heavy all over. My mind went to a different dimension even though I was still within the boundaries of this galaxy. I thought I was going to have a panic attack it came on so quickly but I was able to talk myself through it. My breathing never changed and my heartbeat never quickened. But something sure as shit happened!!
I was afraid to go to sleep, but that was all I could do. And I slept the sleep of angels. Hours later I woke up and the absolute worst of the headache was gone. I would say I was left with about 30% and the soreness.
Come to find out the medication that brought me such relief could have brought me harm. Something called Serotinin Syndrome. Turns out if you take an antidepressant, you're not suppose to take Trixemet. It can produce some pretty horrible side effects, like death and coma. For real. Glad I am with you all today! I will let the Lortab take care of what's left of the headache for now, got to reevaluate this Trixemet.
Thanks for Viewing!
I hope you are enjoying this little exercise in writing as much as I am enjoying doing it. There is nothing more exciting than getting a good idea and just holding on while the words just flow through my fingertips. Somedays the words just fall like snowflakes while others I struggle to find each and every one. I hope as I keep plugging along it gets easier, more natural. Thanks for your words of encouragement. Your comments mean a lot!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Being Eight was Great
We were the three musketeers, Sandy, Joanne and I. Trouble was, more ofter than not, threes a crowd, two are companions. And that combination rotated daily as easily as the wind changed direction. Someone was often on the "out". These girls were my childhood best friends.
Fisher Run Road was my universe. We lived in a community with ten families in our little piece of the world. Summer was filled with baseball games, playing house and crawdad hunting. On special outings, Joann, Sandy and I would make the long trek to Rock City, the top of the hillside on which we lived. Up there, the cars on route 7 looked like ants and the forest floor was covered with ferns and small boulders. The air was moist and cooler than down below. We were outside of our universe, and it felt dangerous. Back then, we were free to roam all day, not needing to check in with our parents except for when food was a necessity.
In the heat of the summer, the asphalt road would bubble up with tar and we would have to run across it so as not to scorch our bare feet. The cool water of the fresh water spring in Ruth and Nile's yard was always a refreshing cooling off nook. Ruth was a dear gray-haired neighbor that gave us bowls of brown sugar with a tad bit of milk on it as a sweet treat whenever we offered to do a bit of housework.
We would spend hour after hour singing with Donnie Osmond and David Cassidy and the Partridge Family on rainy days. We did not watch TV, instead we played Sorry or Crazy Eights. We would help each other with our chores around the house.
There was skating, riding bikes, playing hide and seek when night fell, and stepping on your shadow. During the winter months, there was snow! That meant sledding and hot chocolate. Sometimes Dad would pull us down the street on sleds with his motorcycle, what fun we had. We wouldn't come in until we were chilled to the bone and soaking wet. Strip down to our pj's, and stand on the floor furnace.
Dad worked long days at the plant. Dad was for playtime. When he worked day shift, we would wait at the end of the driveway and he would let us sit on his lap and "drive" the car up the drive. He was usually working on some project or another. You wanted to stay clear or you would get roped into being his assistant. And that was WORK.
Mom did not "play" with me or entertain me. She did not plan my day. She did not watch over me as I played with my friends throughout the day. Through the social network of our community, the foundation of the neighborhood watch was in place and all children were under the watchful eye of an adult. Mom was busy with her housework, laundry, soaps in the afternoon, supper in the evening, and baths and bedtime with kids in the evening.
I couldn't have asked for a more perfect childhood- homemade cookies when I got off the bus after school and my Mom and Dad were married and very much in love. It sad that those days are gone. :.(
Fisher Run Road was my universe. We lived in a community with ten families in our little piece of the world. Summer was filled with baseball games, playing house and crawdad hunting. On special outings, Joann, Sandy and I would make the long trek to Rock City, the top of the hillside on which we lived. Up there, the cars on route 7 looked like ants and the forest floor was covered with ferns and small boulders. The air was moist and cooler than down below. We were outside of our universe, and it felt dangerous. Back then, we were free to roam all day, not needing to check in with our parents except for when food was a necessity.
In the heat of the summer, the asphalt road would bubble up with tar and we would have to run across it so as not to scorch our bare feet. The cool water of the fresh water spring in Ruth and Nile's yard was always a refreshing cooling off nook. Ruth was a dear gray-haired neighbor that gave us bowls of brown sugar with a tad bit of milk on it as a sweet treat whenever we offered to do a bit of housework.
We would spend hour after hour singing with Donnie Osmond and David Cassidy and the Partridge Family on rainy days. We did not watch TV, instead we played Sorry or Crazy Eights. We would help each other with our chores around the house.
There was skating, riding bikes, playing hide and seek when night fell, and stepping on your shadow. During the winter months, there was snow! That meant sledding and hot chocolate. Sometimes Dad would pull us down the street on sleds with his motorcycle, what fun we had. We wouldn't come in until we were chilled to the bone and soaking wet. Strip down to our pj's, and stand on the floor furnace.
Dad worked long days at the plant. Dad was for playtime. When he worked day shift, we would wait at the end of the driveway and he would let us sit on his lap and "drive" the car up the drive. He was usually working on some project or another. You wanted to stay clear or you would get roped into being his assistant. And that was WORK.
Mom did not "play" with me or entertain me. She did not plan my day. She did not watch over me as I played with my friends throughout the day. Through the social network of our community, the foundation of the neighborhood watch was in place and all children were under the watchful eye of an adult. Mom was busy with her housework, laundry, soaps in the afternoon, supper in the evening, and baths and bedtime with kids in the evening.
I couldn't have asked for a more perfect childhood- homemade cookies when I got off the bus after school and my Mom and Dad were married and very much in love. It sad that those days are gone. :.(
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Lets Go Racin' Boys!
Everyone remembers their first Nascar race; mine was particularly eventful! The weekend was an adventure with Joel so that explains ALOT. That Wednesday before the race we said, "why not, what the heck, let's do it, we're going to Talladega!".
We were living in Beaver Dam, Kentucky and I had to meet Ellis in Birmingham with the kids that weekend. They were going to his house for spring break. Of course all the hotels were booked for the weekend so reservations were out of the equation. We would have to wing it. So off we go Saturday noon in my "85 Oldsmobile better known as Foghorn Leghorn.
First things first, we need tunes, and Foghorn was lacking in that department. So we make a pitstop at Circuit City and picked up a stereo and speakers. Foghorn is parked under a shade tree and Joel hurriedly gets to work with makeshift tools at installing our hi-fi stereo. Once enough of the installation is complete, we hit the highway while Joel completes the project. While I drive, he is under the dashboard installing the stereo and connecting the speakers. Walla! The trip is filled with Steve Earl, the Eagles and Miss Saigon as we hightail it down I-65.
We slip into Birmingham with one thing in mind- going to Burly Earl's for a McArthur sandwich. It's early on a Saturday night and the dive isn't crowded. Burly Earl is a sandwich joint by day and a bar by night. The kids are famished, the food is Delicious and we order generously. Joel and I enjoy a bone chillin' pitcher of draft and I get my favorite of all time sandwich. Next thing you know, we are serenaded by the one and only One Eyed Jack, a local troubadour. Very entertaining, all he was missing was the parrot. Apparently the kids had never experienced such a sight (think of that) and even though our meal was done, we weren't leaving. They were intoxicated with Jack's performance. Joel and I might have had another pitcher or two while we waited. Intermission, and a good time was had by all.
Next on the agenda and not so easy was to find a place to lay our weary heads. Joel knew just where to go... the places they don't take reservations, the not-so-desirable side of town. Downtown. Joel found us a room right away, well, let me rephrase that, he found a motel right away. He had to look at 4 or 5 rooms before he found one that was acceptable. It was nearing the midnight hour and Joel had an "OH SHIT" moment. The next days is Sunday! Alabama is dry on Sunday. Even though it meant leaving us alone in a less than desirable situation, he had to make a quick run out and get us a couple of 12 packs for raceday. For what is a NASCAR race without beer?
We made it through the night unscathed, and off to McDonalds we went to meet Ellis. Of course the minute the kids saw him, they started to tell of their adventure. I wonder to this day just how much he figured out.
Joel and I were free, white and 21 now. Let the raceday enthusiasm begin. Sixty miles is all that stands between us and our seats. Down the highway we go with 100,000 other racefans. Almost there, but we are creeping along in traffic. Then it begins, that churning inside that begins like contractions, them moves on in to full blown cramps. I had DRAFT beer last night, and draft beer and my intestines do not get along. At first, I panted, then I was yelling "pull over!". Foghorn Leghorn, under the direction of Joel, took the emergency lane at full throttle to the next exit, did not stop at the stop sign, sped down a piece of road, fished tailed the back tires onto a dirt road and through a gate narrowly missing each side by six inches. Foghorn came to a screeching halt and I jumped out just in the nick of time. Ten minutes later I reappeared, and we hustled out of there.
Through the gates, follow the cars, park, pack our ice chests, got the tickets in my purse. double check, and off to the gate we go. Whoo Hoo! Ticket in hand, ice chest checked, oh nooooooo.... we can't take glass bottles in the gate. In his haste, Joel forgot, cans only. The only solution was to start drinking. So drink we did, and fast. Then Joel got the brilliant idea to take empty Mountain Dew plastic bottles and rinse them out with beer, then fill them up with beer. Desperate times demand desperate measures. Drink more beer, say good bye to the rest....... it looks like it's gonna be a long hot afternoon. In we go just in time for the green flag to wave.
We were on the back stretch and here they came.....sounding like a pack of killer bees. The rumble in my chest, the wind in my hair, it was pure unadulterated excitement! I couldn't believe it, the race exceed my every expectaction. No superlatives begin to shine light on what happens during a race. The thunder sounds like a train, the crowd becomes your closest friends, the cars are brighter than they are on TV, and then, there is the beer. Yep, they were selling beer at the track, tallboys to be exact. I went to the concession stand and found out, came back with 4 beers and Joel hugged me around the waist! We were back in business for an afternoon at Talladega!
We were living in Beaver Dam, Kentucky and I had to meet Ellis in Birmingham with the kids that weekend. They were going to his house for spring break. Of course all the hotels were booked for the weekend so reservations were out of the equation. We would have to wing it. So off we go Saturday noon in my "85 Oldsmobile better known as Foghorn Leghorn.
First things first, we need tunes, and Foghorn was lacking in that department. So we make a pitstop at Circuit City and picked up a stereo and speakers. Foghorn is parked under a shade tree and Joel hurriedly gets to work with makeshift tools at installing our hi-fi stereo. Once enough of the installation is complete, we hit the highway while Joel completes the project. While I drive, he is under the dashboard installing the stereo and connecting the speakers. Walla! The trip is filled with Steve Earl, the Eagles and Miss Saigon as we hightail it down I-65.
We slip into Birmingham with one thing in mind- going to Burly Earl's for a McArthur sandwich. It's early on a Saturday night and the dive isn't crowded. Burly Earl is a sandwich joint by day and a bar by night. The kids are famished, the food is Delicious and we order generously. Joel and I enjoy a bone chillin' pitcher of draft and I get my favorite of all time sandwich. Next thing you know, we are serenaded by the one and only One Eyed Jack, a local troubadour. Very entertaining, all he was missing was the parrot. Apparently the kids had never experienced such a sight (think of that) and even though our meal was done, we weren't leaving. They were intoxicated with Jack's performance. Joel and I might have had another pitcher or two while we waited. Intermission, and a good time was had by all.
Next on the agenda and not so easy was to find a place to lay our weary heads. Joel knew just where to go... the places they don't take reservations, the not-so-desirable side of town. Downtown. Joel found us a room right away, well, let me rephrase that, he found a motel right away. He had to look at 4 or 5 rooms before he found one that was acceptable. It was nearing the midnight hour and Joel had an "OH SHIT" moment. The next days is Sunday! Alabama is dry on Sunday. Even though it meant leaving us alone in a less than desirable situation, he had to make a quick run out and get us a couple of 12 packs for raceday. For what is a NASCAR race without beer?
We made it through the night unscathed, and off to McDonalds we went to meet Ellis. Of course the minute the kids saw him, they started to tell of their adventure. I wonder to this day just how much he figured out.
Joel and I were free, white and 21 now. Let the raceday enthusiasm begin. Sixty miles is all that stands between us and our seats. Down the highway we go with 100,000 other racefans. Almost there, but we are creeping along in traffic. Then it begins, that churning inside that begins like contractions, them moves on in to full blown cramps. I had DRAFT beer last night, and draft beer and my intestines do not get along. At first, I panted, then I was yelling "pull over!". Foghorn Leghorn, under the direction of Joel, took the emergency lane at full throttle to the next exit, did not stop at the stop sign, sped down a piece of road, fished tailed the back tires onto a dirt road and through a gate narrowly missing each side by six inches. Foghorn came to a screeching halt and I jumped out just in the nick of time. Ten minutes later I reappeared, and we hustled out of there.
Through the gates, follow the cars, park, pack our ice chests, got the tickets in my purse. double check, and off to the gate we go. Whoo Hoo! Ticket in hand, ice chest checked, oh nooooooo.... we can't take glass bottles in the gate. In his haste, Joel forgot, cans only. The only solution was to start drinking. So drink we did, and fast. Then Joel got the brilliant idea to take empty Mountain Dew plastic bottles and rinse them out with beer, then fill them up with beer. Desperate times demand desperate measures. Drink more beer, say good bye to the rest....... it looks like it's gonna be a long hot afternoon. In we go just in time for the green flag to wave.
We were on the back stretch and here they came.....sounding like a pack of killer bees. The rumble in my chest, the wind in my hair, it was pure unadulterated excitement! I couldn't believe it, the race exceed my every expectaction. No superlatives begin to shine light on what happens during a race. The thunder sounds like a train, the crowd becomes your closest friends, the cars are brighter than they are on TV, and then, there is the beer. Yep, they were selling beer at the track, tallboys to be exact. I went to the concession stand and found out, came back with 4 beers and Joel hugged me around the waist! We were back in business for an afternoon at Talladega!
Drinking Coffee with Dad
I've been sitting here perusing the Internet, thinking that Dad is probably just settling in after his morning walk about with a cup of latte and starting his daily. If I were there this morning, what would we be talking about? More than likely it would be something of interest that he had found on the Internet, or maybe a tale of a time more golden. Mom would begin to rustle under her blanket and we would take it outside to the carport.
I enjoy those talks with Dad. I remember back when I was in school at Miss. State and would come home on weekends. We would stay up until all hours of the night discussing the depths of economics and the wonderments of literature.
Today we would discuss the happenings of the folks in the park, maybe horse racing (Oaklawn is running again), and that may lead to the happy days spent with Mr Cox, and on the stories continue.
Dad, Thank You for bringing me a bit of conversation everyday with your Daily.
I enjoy those talks with Dad. I remember back when I was in school at Miss. State and would come home on weekends. We would stay up until all hours of the night discussing the depths of economics and the wonderments of literature.
Today we would discuss the happenings of the folks in the park, maybe horse racing (Oaklawn is running again), and that may lead to the happy days spent with Mr Cox, and on the stories continue.
Dad, Thank You for bringing me a bit of conversation everyday with your Daily.
Foods I won't eat and other thoughts
I have no desire to eat any desert that has more than two main "themes". For example, chocolate chip cookies without nuts are the best, with nuts are tolerable, you go and start putting peanut butter and coconut in them and now they are down right disgusting! Also, I have no desire to drink a smoothie. Come on, milk, ice, fruit and ""other stuff"", just not a good combination. Now give me a slushy and that makes sense. Ingredients are ice and fruit - back to the number 2.
I'm bearing down on 50 fast and I don't think I have gone through menopause. If I have, it has been very, very kind to me. I have friends who experience terrible hot flashes. That's just not my cup of tea. I think I will take a pass.
Speaking of 50, I have found that my body has changed (did I say I haven't gone through menopause?). I weigh the same as I did ten years ago, but over the last several years I have taken on a more Weeble appearance - you said it in your head, "Weebles wobble but they don't fall down".
I no longer worry about who I am. I don't worry about where I am going. I am just being, and that takes way less energy. This satisfaction only comes with time, and I've done mine.
I look forward to the next 20+ years of my life. What's not to like. I get to see my children pair with their life mates. I get to see my grandchildren being born and grow. I get to spend my time enjoying the company of those people I love. And I eventually will be retiring from the working world. And I should have few health issues. What more could I ask?
And I have a confession to make. While all the Christmas decorations are packed away and ready to go to storage, there is a bare naked tree standing in my living room. I'm thinking I will have to decorate it for Valentine's Day with pink and red hearts. :)
I'm bearing down on 50 fast and I don't think I have gone through menopause. If I have, it has been very, very kind to me. I have friends who experience terrible hot flashes. That's just not my cup of tea. I think I will take a pass.
Speaking of 50, I have found that my body has changed (did I say I haven't gone through menopause?). I weigh the same as I did ten years ago, but over the last several years I have taken on a more Weeble appearance - you said it in your head, "Weebles wobble but they don't fall down".
I no longer worry about who I am. I don't worry about where I am going. I am just being, and that takes way less energy. This satisfaction only comes with time, and I've done mine.
I look forward to the next 20+ years of my life. What's not to like. I get to see my children pair with their life mates. I get to see my grandchildren being born and grow. I get to spend my time enjoying the company of those people I love. And I eventually will be retiring from the working world. And I should have few health issues. What more could I ask?
And I have a confession to make. While all the Christmas decorations are packed away and ready to go to storage, there is a bare naked tree standing in my living room. I'm thinking I will have to decorate it for Valentine's Day with pink and red hearts. :)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
The Rock with a Gigantic Heart
Alex is a man of great stature and strength. He has always been a very passionate and independent individual since early childhood! From the days he first became a Gamer, to these days of devotion to Drifting, he puts his whole being into whatever he does. He is internally driven to do and be the best at everything he partakes of in life.
When Alex was about ten he started messing around with computers. Before too long he was breaking codes on games, then creating his own codes. Once he got his own computer, he was taking it apart and making it bigger and badder. No one taught him, he just dove in and did it. He would spend weekends at LAN partys, existing on pizza, Mountain Dew and very little sleep. He designed the entire website for Voyage Computer store. No one taught him the HTML language; he doesn't know the word can't.
Today, Alex has a thriving business called Geek for Hire. Look in the yellow pages of the Little Rock phonebook and you will see his ad. He has worked for others in the computer world. Now he has taken that step out there on his own, no job too big or small. It has been a great source of bonus income as well.
Alex loves his favorite hobby - drifting. He is often the center of attention at events, maybe not the fastest or the most expensive car, but definitely the driver with the most fierceness. A half dozen weekends a year you will find Alex and Lindsay in Holly Springs, or Texas, or Nashville doing together what they love best. Alex is always working on bringing an event to Arkansas, and his perseverance will make it happen.
Alex has a warmth and vitality that draws everyone he meets to him. When he was four, his charm landed him the role in a couple of commercials because of his infectious personality and cuteness. He never fit into any group at school because he crossed the borders. He hung with all the kids and joined in an array of activities. Think of the last time you haven't seen Alex in a good mood - you can't!
Since growing up in a divorced family, he took on the role of being the man of the house very early. He was the one in charge when the kids came home from school when they were latch key kids. He began driving them to the bus stop at age 14. He bravely stood up on numerous occasions to Toby when it wasn't easy, to say the least. Alex was there for me in times of trouble to lean on and also in times of happiness to share in the joy. Alex has always been a person that his friends came to and share their problems with him, relying on him for wisdom and support. In high school he was often saddled with being the best friend and not the boyfriend. Now he is the fiance. :)
Today Alex has plans for his future. One day of course, he and Lindsay will wed. And I know both of them look forward to that day they have children. Recently, he has been working with a young man in his auto body shop. The job would fit much better into his schedule as he is going to start school full time in the fall. And the business Geek for Hire will always be up and running. Alex isn't happy if he isn't going at a full speed run while juggling 4 balls in the air. Yet he always has time for those who love him.
I love you Axle, you are my Hero!
When Alex was about ten he started messing around with computers. Before too long he was breaking codes on games, then creating his own codes. Once he got his own computer, he was taking it apart and making it bigger and badder. No one taught him, he just dove in and did it. He would spend weekends at LAN partys, existing on pizza, Mountain Dew and very little sleep. He designed the entire website for Voyage Computer store. No one taught him the HTML language; he doesn't know the word can't.
Today, Alex has a thriving business called Geek for Hire. Look in the yellow pages of the Little Rock phonebook and you will see his ad. He has worked for others in the computer world. Now he has taken that step out there on his own, no job too big or small. It has been a great source of bonus income as well.
Alex loves his favorite hobby - drifting. He is often the center of attention at events, maybe not the fastest or the most expensive car, but definitely the driver with the most fierceness. A half dozen weekends a year you will find Alex and Lindsay in Holly Springs, or Texas, or Nashville doing together what they love best. Alex is always working on bringing an event to Arkansas, and his perseverance will make it happen.
Alex has a warmth and vitality that draws everyone he meets to him. When he was four, his charm landed him the role in a couple of commercials because of his infectious personality and cuteness. He never fit into any group at school because he crossed the borders. He hung with all the kids and joined in an array of activities. Think of the last time you haven't seen Alex in a good mood - you can't!
Since growing up in a divorced family, he took on the role of being the man of the house very early. He was the one in charge when the kids came home from school when they were latch key kids. He began driving them to the bus stop at age 14. He bravely stood up on numerous occasions to Toby when it wasn't easy, to say the least. Alex was there for me in times of trouble to lean on and also in times of happiness to share in the joy. Alex has always been a person that his friends came to and share their problems with him, relying on him for wisdom and support. In high school he was often saddled with being the best friend and not the boyfriend. Now he is the fiance. :)
Today Alex has plans for his future. One day of course, he and Lindsay will wed. And I know both of them look forward to that day they have children. Recently, he has been working with a young man in his auto body shop. The job would fit much better into his schedule as he is going to start school full time in the fall. And the business Geek for Hire will always be up and running. Alex isn't happy if he isn't going at a full speed run while juggling 4 balls in the air. Yet he always has time for those who love him.
I love you Axle, you are my Hero!
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