Haven't been around the stream for the past couple of days...I've been on my sofa with my head in a sling. Not literally of course. Another trip to the hospital ER confirms my suspicions that Larry, Curly and Moe have taken over. I have never seen anything so chaotic and out of control as our local hospital. Last time I had to go there with a herniated disk, they lost my chart and forgot about me completely. Even though several staff members passed by the room I was in continually, no one knew I was there...am I invisable??
Wednesday's visit was hardly better. When they did the intake, I told them..."last time I was here you forgot about me". The nurse was all..well, we sure won't let that happen...so, they put me in the room and within minutes another nurse hurries in and tells me the doctor has just gone ahead and ordered a CAT scan. Good start. About two hours later, the doctor comes in and says, "so, did you have the scan?" I'm like...no...he looks at me with the look of a man who just realized his ship is sinking, and out he goes. "murmur murmur" "I thought it had been ordered!" I hear a nurse say. All I can do is not shake my head. Taking on an attitude of "I'm in control here!" he marches back in and says "at least can we give this lady something for her pain?" no kidding.
Anyway...the scan showed nothing unusual (thank God) and they're calling it a migraine. A three week long migraine...I've had migraines before, and this isn't one of them. I suspect my sinuses are infected, and I told them that, but of course they never examined me. So..yesterday I had my monthly appointment with my osteopath..he keeps my back moving. I told him the story...he was able to pull the test results up on his computer...great...yeah, looks good. So I told him that I thought it was my sinuses...he listens very politely...then he tells me that he can't treat me for that and I have to go see my fairy godmother..er, primary care physician...which I can't get in to see him until Oct. 10th.
It's like a bad episode of South Park. OMG, they killed Kenny - and I'm Kenny!
Anyway...perhaps through sheer will, my headache is subsiding today. Truth be known..I think they scared it out of me. Anyway, I will be back in the stream soon and miss chatting with everyone! See you soon -
Pye

I respect the people who don a uniform to serve and protect and it is extremely sad when one of them looses their life in the line of duty.

Some of you may be familiar with a situation that is happening in New York state. A futitive who escaped custody has been involved with several shootings of NYS Troopers. Apparently the police were not too worried about their safety during the hunt to find this man until two troopers were shot last week. Both of these men were taken to area hospitals in critical condition. Though they both wore bullet-proof vests, they were not protected.

When I went to bed last night both men were still in critical condition. In the middle of the night I woke up out of a sound sleep knowing one of the officers had died...Officer Joe Longobardo. I sat there thinking about it for a minute, feeling confused and worried. I finally fell back to sleep, but woke up early to watch the news. Just as I had felt, Longobardo had indeed died.

Though I am very sad for his family and think it is tragic, I am not involved with the situation. I have never met any of them or anything and the story in the news brought the normal feelings of compassion anyone would feel. Why in the world would I crash out of sleep knowing this man had died? And why does this sort of thing happen to me on a regular basis? I have some theories on why I have developed this ability, but I'll talk about that another time. The thing is, it never ceases to amaze me! The first time I remember having a strange experience I was about four years old and I'm 56 now; so you'd think I'd get use to it. I'm not.

I don't know the reason for the connection I experienced to this man's passing, only to offer prayers for the family. He left a wife and one year old child and my heart does go out to them. Because of my experience, I will indeed pray for them; and maybe that's the point.

I would appreciate any feedback or insight anyone might have on the whole sort of pyschic thing. Do you experience things like this? What do you do with the knowledge? How does it affect your daily life?

Anyway, wanted to share with you because it is time in my life to be who I really am and not try to hide it.
So, welcome to the same old weird Pyewacket.

What a crazy month this was for me! Literally, everything that could go wrong, did. Finally yesterday, I felt the dark cloud above me dissapating. Again, so many friends and family members responding to my gloom without even being told I was trapped there, it really kind of makes my head spin, but in a really good way. I am so blessed to have so many people who really care about me.

The return of a constant headache has me panicking on less than conscious levels. I refuse to panic consciously, so the panic hides in there somewhere and gathers troops which finally attack and leave me lying wounded on the field. This is in part, a reaction of PTSD. One trigger gets pulled and it causes a cascade effect on all the triggers.

I haven't had a brain scan for two years, so it is time to get checked. I'm just so nervous because this is exactly how the first tumor began..headaches and fatigue. I don't want to jump to conclusions and get myself all riled up for no reason, but every day that passes without the headache going away takes me closer and closer to that out of control place. I just cannot go through that again.

I have an appointment with my doctor next Friday. I know there will be yet another MRI ordered...and then the wait for results. I have to get my mind off of this or I'm going to lose it.

Why does everything happen at the same time? One can go for years without any significant changes or ripples in their pond..and then all of a sudden, someone throws 45 boulders into the water.

One of the pieces of this present puzzle that I find really annoying, is that I know I have to go back on Effexor. I'm just too emotionally overwhelmed. I hate the idea, but I hate crying and lying on my sofa in defeat more. Damn the bad luck! I know many of you blogging here deal with this same issue. Why are so many of us driven to these drugs? What's wrong? Is it within us..or is it what's going on outside of us? or both...I just hate the fact and feel so angry at myself that I can't be strong enough to cope with my life without medication!! It really makes me furious...but I have tried so hard to find alternatives and I always end up on that damn sofa. Maybe I need to get rid of that!

Anyway...I need to be Major Winters today and stop dickin around. For those of you unfamiliar with Maj. Winters, he was a member of the 101st Airborne that jumped into Normandy on D-Day. His story is told in the mini series Band of Brothers. I was deeply touched by this story and it helped me to find strength when I thought I had none. Whenever I am feeling defeated, or weak, I put on the disks and get a dose of heroism. I find it very hard to continue feeling sorry for myself when I remember Joe Toy and "ol'" Bill Guarnere who each had a leg blown off in the Battle of the Bulge.

What I learned from BOB (Band of Brothers) is that you don't go on just for yourself. You go on and succeed for everyone and you don't give up...ever. Those are important lessons and I am grateful I learned it through others' experience instead of having to fight at Bastogne myself. Course, maybe I did and that's why I'm so drawn to the story! Who knows, it's a mysterious world.
At any rate..I'm back in the saddle again. I get knocked down,
BUT I GET UP AGAIN.
See you all around the lobby,
Pye

The past couple of days have been rough for me. The end of the month always is due to lack of funds. Having four days to go and only 88 cents triggers something in my head and I start panicking. And, I won't mention the phone call from my ex where he said something so incredibly stupid that I'm still trying to absorb it.

Tuesday being on of those days spent on the sofa with a blanket over my face, I turned off my phone and decided to spend the day feeling sorry for myself. I'll just jump right into that panic and torture myself until Friday...great plan, Pye.

Are there other people who find it so easy to reach out and offer help to those in need, but when it comes to asking for help, your mouth suddenly becomes stuck together?

Apparently, my guardian angel wasn't having it. My sister, who always calls first, showed up unannounced and insisted upon taking me to the store to buy the three C's I was going to have to go without until payday, (coffee, cream and catfud).
Then, out of the clear blue sky, my MSN messenger beeped, and it was my SON!! I haven't spoken to him since he left for China over three weeks ago. It was his birthday yesterday and probably another reason I felt depressed, being unable to share it with him. We talked for about an hour and my heart felt so full.
The rest of the day continued down the same road. People showed up here just knowing I needed to see them...could they feel my stomach churning? Hear me crying...how did they know?
Well, I'd like to thank all those lovely and wonderful people for making sure I didn't spend yesterday or any day feeling bad. I'd also like to thank my Angel for not paying attention to my insanity, and for putting the word into the hearts that needed to know, some of which come from right here in the Stream.

Faith in a higher power, faith in love; these are our two main tools for getting through life. Without them...there isn't a whole heck of a lot to live for. And what never ceases to enlighten and amaze me, is that no matter what the circumstance, I am continually shown and reminded that I am not alone. That I am part of a continuum of love that cannot be broken, cannot be reduced and that I am an integral part of that web, as are every single last one of us.

With my nose in the humble pye, I thank you all for welcoming me to this place, and for every other particle of love that continually surrounds me and defies anything the world can toss my way.

Peace and love,
Pye

At around 10 or 11 years old my father decided it was time for me to go to work so he started arranging babysitting jobs for me at 50 cents and hour.
After five or six hours watching a house full of wild hooligans, I would take my 2.50 home, and my father would relieve me of it. He had to work as a kid and pay for room and board, therefore I must too.
By the time I was 15 I was working approximately 30 hours per week babysitting and going to school. My dear dad got me a job at the local supermarket even though I was underage. So...I'd get up at 6 am..go to school til 3, go to work at the store until 8 and then babysit until 12 or 1am.
I suppose this in itself wouldn't have been that bad, but he wanted sex from me too.
By this time there were five kids, one of them special needs, and my mom was so far beaten down by his constant derisiveness that she was in her own little world and ill.
I turned 18 on June 25. I graduated high school on June 26, and June 27 I started my first full time job. I worked there long enough to save money to leave the state and arranged to move in with my recently widowed grandfather in Florida. It was heaven there. I still did chores; but chores for two is a lot less work than chores for 7. Grampa was thrilled to have me there and even though I got a full time job at a nearby bank, we spent lots of time together going out to eat, sightseeing, visiting old friends and so forth. Life was easy for the first time in my life and I was loving it.
Then my family came down for a visit. My mom was drawn and haggard. She looked like she was on deaths' door and after the vacation ended and they'd gone back to NY, I couldn't think of anything except how bad she looked. I decided I had to go back to NY and look after her and the kids.
I moved briefly back into the family home, got a full time job and did what I could to improve the situation. Of course it was unbearable...being around the old man again was more than I could handle and I realized I had to find my own place. Eventually, I moved into an apartment with a girl my own age in the closest city. I worked hard, paid my bills and partied way too hearty. Grocery money was spent hanging out at the local pub and new hippy clothes. I was having a wonderful time until the fast lane caught up with me not even a year later. I collapsed at work, lost my apartment and ended back with the fam.
As my health improved and my strength returned, my father decided to put me to work at his real estate office. I took over the position as receptionist/secretary and in his mind, this included my having to sit on his lap to take dictation. Can you even imagine?
I'd been talking to a boy that worked in the shop next door to the office and he asked me out. He was extremely shy and quiet, but he was very nice and I thought basically, anything to get me away from dad.
Through this shy quiet guy, I met who would become my first husband. It was at their shared apartment that I first met Jim. There was an instant attraction and I knew within my heart of hearts, I was in love. Little did I know he had that same kind of attraction to any female he came in contact with...but, as they say, love is blind. I felt tremendously guilty about ending Rich's (shy quiet) and my first date by falling in love with his roommate...but Jim didn't have a problem with it at all, and convinced both Rich and I it was destiny.