Deliver Me

Tonight's blog post is brought to you by: self-loathing.

I'm trying to wrap my mind around a certain set of circumstances and I hear myself cry out, God, deliver me! Now, mind you, conversations between me and the Lord, granted, they are mostly one-sided, are not uncommon. On a near daily basis I ask the Almighty for several things: to deliver me from financial stresses, to deliver me the perfect man (not a perfect man, just the perfect man for me) and for his continued blessings on my family. Yes, I said continued. I am not blind to the fact that despite my current state in life, I am blessed beyond measure.  Far better off than some, not as much as others.  One thing I do not, under any circumstances every ask Him for: patience! Bleh! Yet He has seen fit to throw patience upon me in heaps. Lord, I don't mean to sound unthankful, but... I don't want it! Return to sender! I'm done with patience! Finished! I've practiced patience aplenty; all I could ever need, and then some! I don't need the patience of a flat tire! Though I am thankful it was only a few blocks from home and not in the middle of nowhere. And even more grateful for the stranger who noticed me sobbing in my car, and carefully approached me with her offer to help, restoring my faith that there are still good people in the world. Oh, I get it now. The lesson wasn't patience... the lesson was learning to reach out to others for help! Somewhere in the Good Book I'm sure it is written that I should expect great things, and great things will come. Expect nothing, get nothing. Right? He has great things planned for me. Lord, I am ready to take delivery!

Lord, Deliver Me... deliver me from the worldly things that cause me stress, they are only temporary and not worth the trouble.... deliver me someone to share my life with.. and deliver me your continued blessings so that I can be a blessing to others.

Perception IS Reality

Let me say it again, perception IS reality. If I learned nothing else in all of those college communication courses; I learned that perception is reality. With that being said and hopefully understood, let me dive right into the topic that's got me fired up today.  By now I'm sure most of you have seen it on the news; this disturbing video of a stepfather beating his stepson with a belt. The incident was caught on camera by a neighbor as the stepfather and the young boy were playing catch in their backyard. It would appear from the video that the boy's punishment for not catching the ball was a swift lashing with his stepfather's belt. The boys grandfather says it was for being "mouthy." What has been seen on TV is an abbreviated version of an incident that lasted more than seven minutes. The beating stopped when the neighbor video taping it finally stepped in and said something.

How parents discipline their children can be a polarizing topic. Many come from the school-of-thought that "if it was good enough for me, it's good enough for them." Meaning, for people my age to have been hit with a belt is a common tale of woe.  For folks my parents age, it is even more so. We are under the impression that because we turned out "okay" after having been disciplined by the belt that it is an acceptable form of punishment.  It isn't!

Research on the long-term effects of spanking continue to emerge.  I think as its victims grow older and are forced to come to terms with the damage, we'll learn more and become more aware of the problems, both long-term and short-term, that corporal punishment causes on the human psyche.  An article published back in March talks about a recent study on spanking and its link to "adverse outcomes in children and teens." There have been several studies on the matter as of late, and one need not look further than Google to find a reputable resource on the subject.

I was watching CNN last night.  Host Don Lemon was talking to his guest, comedian Louie Anderson about this hot topic. Anderson, a victim of childhood abuse, had this to say: Abuse is the source of everything that is wrong with the world.  Be it physical, or verbal, or emotional, or some other form of abuse.  Louie Anderson got it right. And when the rest of the world "gets it" we'll be headed in a much better direction. 
   

Cover Girl

I recently joined a group on Facebook, "I Want To Be in TIME." As in TIME magazine. And sure enough, I went to my mailbox today, pulled out the latest edition of TIME, and there I was... on the cover of TIME. It's very cool. Something to tell the grand kids about. I'm going to buy copies and autograph them for all of my family members. I'm also going to frame a copy for myself. It's my fifteen minutes of fame, and I'm taking full advantage.

Welcome To Wal-Mart

Many companies have been downsizing and outsourcing. There's no breaking news in that statement. Some of the outsourcing is taking place right under our noses. Wal-Mart, for example; Some of the jobs previously done by their employees, are now done by the customer. I think it started with those nifty scanners scattered throughout the store, the ones that will scan a bar code and check the price of an item. How convenient. How thoughtful of Wal-Mart to give customers access to that. That's one less employee they need to hire. That persons job, doing price-checks and providing customer service, has now been outsourced, to you, the consumer. Then came "self-checkout." What a great concept. Who wants to stand in line when you can quickly and easily check-out on your own. The problem with that is; it's not always easy. God forbid something should go wrong, like an item was scanned twice. Now you need the super-secret code to remove the item from your total. So your stuck waiting for the elusive Wal-Mart employee to come and rescue you from "self-checkout" hell. And that's not my only beef with self-checkout. I'm also unloading my cart and bagging my own goods. All in the name of self-checkout. I'm paying to be my own checker, my own cashier. Let me repeat that; I'm paying to unload my shopping cart, scan the items I'm purchasing, bag said items, and put the bags back in my shopping cart. Talk about outsourcing! So, needless to say, I forgo the self-checkout as much as possible. I want to be waited on. But even then, much of the customer service has gone by the wayside. I still have to put my items on the conveyor belt and put the bags back in my shopping cart. There is a very rare occasion when I'll run into a checker who's willing to go above and beyond the call of duty and will take the time to put my bags in my cart. So, a couple of days ago I was standing in line at Wal-Mart, already irritated because it was 5 o'clock and there were only 4 lanes open. There were two people ahead of me, a man behind me, and a woman behind him. The cashier literally yelled at the man behind me, "Sir, could you tell that woman she's my last customer." WHAT?? AS IF!!! She should probably be glad she didn't ask me, because I would have responded with, "Yes, for a fee."

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Do you remember taking a hearing test, back in grade school. They put those gigantic headphones over your ears, then asked you to raise your hand, right or left, according to which side to you heard the beeping sound in. Think about that beeping sound. Or imagine what it sounds like when you get that occasional ringing in your ear. Think about what that sounds like. Now imagine hearing that sound all of the time. 24/7. That's what life is like living with chronic tinnitus.

I've been living with chronic tinnitus in my right ear since October 2002. I had hosted the BINGO booth at my sons elementary school fall festival the night before it happened. I woke up in the middle of the night with the most intense ear pain I've ever experienced. By the next morning I had lost the hearing in both of my ears. After several weeks of antibiotics, anti-virals, steroids, etc., the hearing in my left ear was restored. However, I've never regained hearing in my right ear. And to make matters worse, chronic tinnitus set it. I sought treatment from the world renowned House Ear Institute in Los Angeles, CA. I was devastated when the doctor told me I had sensorineural hearing loss. He also told me if it's going to be reversed, if my hearing is going to return, it is likely to do so within a few weeks. It had already been six months.

At 28 years old, having just decided to go back to school and in my second semester as a returning student, I'd lost the hearing in my right ear and was suffering with chronic tinnitus. You're thinking, I should be thankful! It could have been worse. At least I still have hearing in one ear. And all of those things are right. But I wasn't thankful. I had to learn to adapt to my new disability. Learning to always sit to the right side of a person, or the right side of a classroom. Learning to lip-read. Social situations, that in the past I enjoyed, I now dread. Take a lot of voices, one bad ear, mix it with chronic tinnitus and you end up with one stressed out person.

It's not only that my one good ear is trying to compensate for the bum ear, but it's also trying to hear over the chronic tinnitus. It's the tinnitus that drives me crazy. Especially at night, when I'm trying to go to sleep. I always have to have a radio, or other white noise, to keep my brain from focusing on the ringing. Sometimes the ringing is so loud and intense, it amazes me that other people in the room can't hear it. I've often been laying in bed next to my husband, the ringing piercing through my head, and I'll say, "Can you hear that?" I've even pulled his head next to mine, ear to ear, certain that he'd be able to hear the ringing. But he doesn't. No one does. This is a case where it really is, all in my head!

The night before last I woke up around 1 o'clock in the morning and I noticed something; no ringing. None. I sat there for a few minutes, listening for the ringing, but all I heard was the radio. I heard it; crystal clear. I grabbed my cell phone and called my voice mail; I wanted to hear what a talking voice sounded like without the ringing. I could hear it! I called my sister. "Sherry, are you awake!" Thank God she was. After I hung up the phone I sent a text message to my husband and told him about the 'miracle' that had occurred. Then I laid there in my bed, listening to the radio until I fell asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, the ringing was back. If I had known it was only temporary, I would have stayed up all night, enjoying the sound of silence.

On FTD... and I don't mean the florist!

Frontotemporal Dementia... according to the UCSF Memory and Aging Center... is a group of related conditions resulting from the progressive degeneration of the temporal and frontal lobes of the brain. These areas of the brain play a significant role in decision-making, behavior control, emotion and language. FTD is less common than Alzheimer's. There is nothing to stop or slow the progression of this disease.

Today was our family conference with a doctor at the Alzheimer's and Memory Center in Fresno. My mother's diagnosis of FTD was confirmed. In short, the mother that I had grown to love is gone... and she is never coming back! She is already exhibiting many of the symptoms of Phase 2 Dementia, and a few of Phase 3; the terminal phase.

The doctor said "these processes tend to exaggerate old behaviors." This pains me greatly because it was those old behaviors that caused my mother and I not to be close in the first place.

But over the past 10 years our relationship evolved into something truly wonderful, as we bonded over motherhood and other common interests. In a matter of months, as her health has deteriorated, so to has our relationship. My only prayer now is that I will have the strength and wisdom to see my mother through this season of her life.

On my best friend LeNita Jo Meehan

In February 1992 my husband was stationed at NAS Lemoore, Calif. As a young couple with no kids and no money, one of the things we did for fun was get together with our friends on the weekends to play cards. On this particular weekend a new couple was joining the group. New arrivals to the base. They had a baby girl, Samantha. She was nine months old. The husband was easy going enough. But the wife, she was super outgoing and with a heavy southern accent to boot. One of the first things I said to her was, "And which of the southern states are you from?" I thought it was funny. She didn't. She was from Kentucky.

I worked in customer service at JC Penney a few towns over. A few days later I answered the phone and on the other end was a woman asking for directions to the store in the most southern voice I had ever heard. I said, "LeNita, is that you?" It was. And the rest, as they say is history. It was the beginning of the most wonderful friendship. A friendship that stood the test of time, distance, trials and tribulations. Samantha, the nine month old, is now a senior in high school. I love her and her sister and brother, Tori and Josh, as if they were my own. LeNita's parents, Howard and Clara Staley, are like a second family to me. For the last 17 years I have been honored to call LeNita Jo Meehan my best friend. We have shared each other's joys and each other's pains. When I went back to school there were so many times when I thought I would never make it. But LeNita lifted me up and gave me the inspiration to keep going. We spent countless hours on the phone together. Sometimes we would talk two or three times a days. In recent years when she was ill and didn't feel like talking it didn't matter to me I knew she still loved me just the same. LeNita called me a couple of days ago. She left a voicemail. I didn't even bother to listen to it. I was so excited to see that she had called. I called her right back. We had a nice visit. Then later I listened to the voicemail. If I had known she was going to die a few days later I wouldn't have deleted it. If I had known that was the last time I would hear her voice, I would have hung onto it forever. But I didn't. Her husband called me tonight with the devastating news no one wants to get. His wife is gone. Their babies mother is gone. My best friends is gone. God bless Patrick, Samantha, Tori, and Josh. God help us all find a way to cope with this great loss. God bless our beloved LeNita Jo Meehan.