peeks into my life dealing with everyday life and obstacles as well as obstacles of dealing with disabilities and accessibility obstacles, Chronic Pain due to broken spinal rods, living on pain medications, dealing with anxiety/depression, experiencing the newness of love, and fighting for my right to live and love my life in an ableist society.
So yesterday, May 5, I officially turned 30 years old! Gosh how am I already 30?! time flies!
We really didn’t do much to celebrate it. The weather was rather ugly outside, my mom’s knee was bugging her, Bae (David) was working, etc. My parents got a sign and a banner to put in the front yard, Bae (David) came after work, Dad made one of my favorite meals (it’s called “greasy chicken”- basically a chicken in a gravy type thing..It is really good and yummy!)
Earlier in the week, Mom and Dad had invested in a really fancy office chair for me since I do a lot of computer stuff and sitting at a desk; it was highly recommended for people with Scoliosis and back problems for good posture. They also got me some Fine-Tip ink pens in various colors since I do a lot of journaling and note-taking while doing my daily religious readings and such. Those surprises were before my birthday: For my birthday, They invested in a Cricut Explore Air 2 in my birthstone color: Emerald! The day before my birthday, one of my best friends, one I been friends with since we were in preschool together, came to drop off a 30 wine glass and a “cheers to 30 years” purple shirt for me to wear on my birthday (which I did wear, and it’s the shirt I am photographed in the slideshow video down below).
Today, May 6, Mom was feeling better so she made up the fact she couldn’t make me a special birthday breakfast by going to Waffle House while I was asleep and ordering what we usually split together- The all-star breakfast: Pecan Waffle, Country Ham, Hashbrowns, etc. and brought it home for me! I am so spoiled, but I am the youngest child and I have had a rough life, so I deserve a little spoiling every now and then LMAO!
This weekend, our local performing theatre is doing a talent show- so we will go to that, maybe go do a little shopping and go get my “birthday freebies,” from stores and stuff I have rewards memberships with. Don’t know, Time will tell what we actually do; Having disabilities kill my stamina levels so I gotta just see how I am feeling and “play by ear,” but oh how I wish I could “be Normal,” and have normal stamina levels and such, but eh, Tis my life- can’t change it so might as well accept it. *shrugs*
But anyway, Overwell, it was a pretty good birthday. 🙂
What girl is resuming college in the fall semester and only 28 credits from bachelor’s degree in general studies with a concentration in behavioral studies…? this girl, right here! Woot woot.
However, being I have 28 hours left: All I have left is an Advanced English writing class, some general electives, and enrichment (concentration) classes. While I think if I do 2 semesters of full time-each one will be about 15 credit hours, (which is about 5 classes if its a 3-day class)- more if its a 2-day class.) that will be 2 extra credit hours in the end run, but then I will be done by end of next spring if I am able to keep my grades up.
However, I been out for a while and I get stressed and overwhelmed easily, so maybe Instead of setting myself up to fail and burned out, I only do a few part-time, even though I am thinking these will be “Easy” classes.
I don’t know what the workloads entail for these classes. Plus my stamina isn’t great right now. So looking at my energy level now, it’d probably be safest to do part-time in the fall, and then in spring, I can work my way up to more credit hours. (although maybe not, since spring starts in January and that’s still cold…unless it’s mostly online during that time. I don’t know. Time will tell.) Any advice is greatly appreciated.
Many people on my Facebook suggested only taking 1-2 other classes besides the advanced writing class because for most people, advanced writing classes take up a lot of time.
The next biggest issues while registering for classes:
1.) When going to the course description, some descriptions only say “will have an additional cost,” It doesn’t say anything about what the course is about or the workload expectancy: Like how is a student supposed to figure out if that class is a good fit with another class they are taking? UGH!
2.) Most of the classes I am looking at either is full to capacity, not a good fit with the advanced writing class, and some just aren’t available/an option for this semester.
So right now, the only class I can schedule is advanced writing: Could that be a sign from God? Like “Hello, all you need to take is this one class for right now.” Only time will tell.
A lot of people may have their own opinions on these issues, but I know for a fact that CPS and Family Courts are corrupt and that a lot of times it isn’t for “best interest of the child,” but its more a power play of which parent has more power/infleuence/ or money. “Money talks, Criminals walk.” I know people believe the “father’s rights,” and “Parental alienation” etc, but in my heart, I don’t feel that children can fake the levels of emotions in these videos. Maybe I am wrong, but I rather be wrong and do my part to prevent another “Gabriel Fernandez” case happening. In my heart, I think by age 5, children should have a say in who they want to live with. Again, maybe I am wrong.
please check out my video compliations of the cases:
As we are aware, I had re-broke my spinal fusion rods and was dreading facing my parents about it. This weekend, my parents came in off the truck. As soon as they saw me, Dad asked “what happened to your forehead” because that was the first thing he noticed. “Well, you see, there was a incident in the backyard on the steps. I fell…and re-broke my rods.” They didn’t look happy, but didn’t say anything, later they mellowed out and we joked about it. Then I gave them some candy bars I had bought at the store on Thursday after the incident, before they came in, with the joke to David, “I’ll get their favorite candy bars so when I deliver the bad news about my rods, it will be less of a blow…Like…’look, I got yall favorite candy, oh by the way, my rods are re-broke. Oh just eat your candy bars before you reply.” hahaha. To which I recounted that story to them and they laughed. I am so lucky to have understanding and supportive parents with good senses of humor. 🙂 #Blessed.
I also sent the Xrays to Dr. Kelly on friday through “snail mail” with post office saying it should be delivered/recieved on monday. So I will call monday to tell his office and hopefully by tuesday or wed, I will have some news on what Dr. Kelly had to say. I also hope I hear from the genetics doctor soon as well.
While I was working on my autobiography about my life (still a work in progress), Mom contributed the following chapter for it; Enjoy. ” South Louisiana knows how to eat, drink & party. Life was pretty easy for me growing up. I did my share of partying in my teen years. Life should be a party, but we’re not always the guest of honor. Sometimes we must take our places in the back of the room. Jamie taught me that life is not fair and we are not perfect. I felt guilty and still do sometimes that my daughter has to suffer so much, to teach me and others about important things in life.
During Jamie’s 1st year of life, words were spoken to me by a doctor that have haunted me to this day. He told me that he could just look at her and see that she wasn’t normal. I am thankful for these words, though, because they opened my eyes. We have all been created to be different, but we are normal. What we are is what God intended us to be, therefore, it’s our normal.
Jamie has such a strong personality with the ability to win hearts, but unfortunately, trying to fit in has made her heart somewhat hard. I always wanted her to be tough. As a female, I knew she would have to be strong; being female with a disability, she needed to be extremely tough. I never wanted her dependent on anyone. She learned well, she hates to ask for help. She hasn’t learned to balance her strong personality and independence with her ability to teach people as well as she has taught me.
A lady that had a hurt back shared with me what Jamie did for her life. During the time Jamie was in swim therapy, this lady was also receiving therapy, but she was having a tough time adjusting to her injury. She was angry, in pain, and feeling sorry for herself. Then comes Jamie, this little ray of sunshine with a smile that would light up a room. It was because of Jamie’s disability she found the courage to not give up. As the saying goes, “She put on her big girl panties and told herself, if this little girl can have such strength to deal with her pain, shame on me for the self-pity.”
She had such an outgoing personality when she was young. Ronald & I brought Jamie to a wedding for a pool playing friend of his. Ronald knew the bride, groom and a few of other people. I knew the bride & groom. Jamie didn’t know anyone. She worked the room like a politician running for office, going from table to table at the reception. By the time we left, almost everyone in the room knew her name. How does society take you from the point of being a social butterfly to the state of almost wrapping yourself in a cocoon? I hope one day, I can see the self-confidence she once possessed shine through again.
Jamie started preschool at 3 years old. She still often tells her preschool teacher, she would like to go back to that time in her life. She was so happy; rarely did she complain about pain. She was in preschool for 2 years. The coordinator wanted her to stay for another year. Ronald and I decided she needed to be pushed through to kindergarten.
She adjusted well with a fantastic teacher. At the end of the school year, her teacher shared with me, how she was apprehensive to have Jamie in her class. Unsure how Jamie would handle the class setting. With tears in her eyes on that last day, she said, “It had been a tough year, the class had challenged her, but because of Jamie’s smile, she had the ability to not give up. Jamie’s disability helped carry her through the year.”
When Jamie was about 5 years old, we took a trip with my niece and her children to Texas to visit my sister. We stopped for fuel. Jamie was told to stay in the car with the others while I went inside to pay. My niece needed the restroom so she came in and Jamie followed her. Jamie asked for a snack cake, but our plan was to eat when we arrived at my sister’s house. I told her, no, but a little lady looked at me & said, “Let that child have a snack” and she bought it for her. I realized at that time, the world was going to spoil my child.
On separate occasions, years after Jamie went to Jr. High, I met up with former principles of the elementary school. Both shared with me, Jamie would give them a hug, every afternoon before leaving school. Sometimes they may have had an extremely hard day, and her hug would lift their spirit.
In Jr. High, the assistant principal would give her such a hard time. He gave Jamie the name “Jasmine” and that is what he called her every day. She would stomp her feet, saying, “My name is Jamie, not Jasmine.” He would laugh. Getting Jamie frustrated seems to be what most of her friends and family like to do.
Most people go through their entire life not knowing their purpose. Jamie’s smile so often would lift a person’s bad day when she was a child. Being an adult, she finds it a little more difficult to be happy and carefree as she was in childhood. Her pain has gotten worse, therefore, it is more difficult to smile. Sometimes she needs someone to give her that smile and hug her that she so easily gave as a child. The great job we did making her independent also makes it more difficult to ask for help from anyone; even when she needs it!
Why do we try so hard to fit in? We are all created equal. We have different hopes, dreams, and talents. It is when we try to fit in, we are put into a box. Thinking outside of the box is what makes us truly become what we are meant to be. Ourselves.
People often tell me what a wonderful job Ronald & I have done raising Jamie. I feel we have been blessed to have shared in her great little life. Her life hasn’t been easy, no life is. Dealing with a disability for a child is more challenging, but the rewards I’ve received, far more outweigh the challenges. Sometimes, I still feel guilty, because the struggles with her disabilities have taught me so much about life. Although I do realize, we didn’t raise her alone.”
Thoughts of the day…I love all my friends no matter their race, nationality, religion, political beliefs, etc. if you are my friend.(Except if you are racists, ableists- have negative thoughts about disabled people, etc.) We may not always see eye to eye on everything, heck we might even debate some things, but if we are true friends and mature adults, we can still remain true friends through all that- And as long as we respect each others views and don’t try to force our views down each others throats. .) I will always care about my friends even the ones I am not close with anymore. They are still in my memories and my heart, and If anything happens to ANY of my friends, you can bet, I will be there for them and their family. If someone hurts them or worse, I will seek vengeance for them. Hell hath no fury like a “Momma hen” type friend. I hit, kick, claw, and will beat people with a bat to defend my friends and family and singing “Someone gonna get their ass kicked today” LMAO. #UnitedWeStand#DividedWeFall
Some of my best friends are different race or nationality than me and they are some of the best friends I could ever ask for. They love and support me and my dreams no matter what. If anyone was to be racists to them, I’d be so angry and defend them, especially if I was right there and witnessed it- I’d probably get in the offender’s face and tell them off or worse- hit,kick, claw, punch, slap, maybe even beat to a pulp with a baseball bat- But I’d do that for all my friends and family, I am very protective of my loved ones and hate to see them hurt; whether it be physically, mentally, or emotionally.
Its 2020, and the world is still in chaos with discrimination and racism, hatred and anger, so much division. We need to come together and make the world a better place for future generations, because right now as much as I want to be a mother, I do not want to bring a child into all this violence, crime, and hatred in the world; Children cant even have childhoods anymore and are forced to grow up too fast in this world. 😦 We must do better for our children and our children’s children and generations to come!
In Jr. High was the time I back-sassed my dad in Lowe’s. First, let me explain that I was grouchy because I didn’t want to be there, to begin with, but yet I was forced to go with him. We were at checkout and we had roach spray, along with many mouse/rat traps. The clerk said some statement about: “you must have a mouse problem?” I replied: “Oh, yes! A lot!” My dad replied: “Jamie, we don’t have a problem; just an occasional mouse or two from the field next door.” But of course, Jamie with the big blabbermouth didn’t shut up until dad growing frustrated told me “Jamie, Stop.” Well, I was mad that he cut me off from telling my stories, plus the fact he forced me to come anyway. Once dad had paid for the stuff, he asked me to carry the bag, to which I replied: “Why can’t you do it; I’m not your slave.” Oh, you should have seen the vein in his temple throb, and his face turn red; I knew I had crossed the line: “No daddy, I’m sorry; don’t whip me!” as loud as I could in Lowe’s, not realizing that if anyone heard him, they could report him for “child abuse,” when he was just disciplining his child. Boy, was my dad embarrassed and furious! I think if my child ever did that to me, I would have whipped them when we got in the car! I was so scared that I didn’t get into the front passenger seat, instead, I got into the backseat on the floorboard; trying to avoid my Dad’s wrath! (He still loves to hold this story over my head! LOL)
My brother and I’s relationship has gone back as far as to when I was in the womb. Mom often wrote that my brother would tell her, “It’s a girl because all she wants is junk.” Mom ate just healthy foods when she was pregnant with my brother, whereas, for me, it was just junk food. Another interesting fact is that my brother is the one who picked, “Jamie,” for my name; Mom and Dad wanted a “J” name, who knows how he picked it: maybe it was because Dad’s middle name was James, or maybe he just liked the name.
Once I was born, he often spent time with me. There are pictures of him holding me, or sitting with me in the rocker under some covers. When I was 2 years old, he’d follow me around with the video camera and video me; it’s one of my favorite videos even though the camera shook and watching it, can make you sick from all the motion because it shows he loved and interacted with me. I gave him the nickname “boy” when I began talking; my uncle/ Paran would call him that, and I picked up the habit. When I was 2, I’d beg him to read with me and he would sometimes. Our relationship started to get strained when I was in pre-k because he started to become a pre-teen/teenager.
When I was 5, I would sit at the front door like an eager puppy, waiting for him to get off the bus. I’d jump around excited, “bubba’s home! Bubba’s home!” Would he pay me any mind once he got home? Nope. He’d walk past me, annoyed from school, go to his room and slam the door. He was in Jr. High at the time and Mom says, she wouldn’t interact with him much except to make sure he was still alive, and to let him know the food was ready.
When you are a younger sibling, you often tend to look up and emulate/try to imitate your older siblings, out of the feelings of “that is how I need to act, just like____ ((whatever the name may be). For me, when I tried to do things my older brother, Jared, did, it often got me into trouble; examples of this include the time I nearly drowned at Blue Bayou Water Park in the wave pool and another time when I was crossing the highway we live on, to head home from the neighborhood across the street from where we lived.
I was about 5 years old, and every summer one of the highlights was to go to Blue Bayou Water Park with my Aunt (one of Mom’s sisters-in-law) and her children. At the time I had not taken swimming lessons yet, so I stayed in the shallow ends of the wave pool, or went in the kiddie pool. We were in the wave pools and the waves had not started yet; my Brother had come to meet us and right before the waves started up again, he was heading out to the deeper parts; At the time, I admired and looked up to my older brother, and tried to follow him. I was crawling on my hands and knees into the deeper and deeper (but still in the shallow part) of the wave pool; the waves started and knocked me over, and I started to panic, so I didn’t even think to stand up and run back to mom. I just stayed under the water, coughing and spitting up water, waving my arms. Mom ran over and “rescued” me. I think it was this incident that convinced mom to get me into swimming lessons. The pool and water soon became a big part of therapy for me and I love to swim now; I am convinced I am part mermaid. I want to be able to breathe underwater, swim with dolphins; I want to be just like “Ariel,” the little mermaid.
The other incident was when I nearly got hit on the highway we live on. My Brother, his friend, my mom, and I were across the highway in the neighborhood, riding bikes (I had training wheels on mine). The sun was starting to set, and the mosquitos were coming out and biting me. My brother and his friend were old enough to cross the highway by themselves, so they told mom and began to leave. Mom was talking and visiting with one of the neighbors, kind of distracted; I kept tugging on her arm, ready to go, but she wasn’t listening. That is when I saw my brother and his friend leaving, so I followed them; His friend noticed and started to lag to watch me. My brother looked both ways and crossed the highway, with me behind him. I, however, was too young to know the whole “look both ways before crossing,” rule, and started right behind my brother, just as a huge 18 wheeler started towards me, really fast. Luckily, my brother’s friend was behind me. He grabbed me out of the road just in time. Dad was in the front yard, and he looked like he was about to have a stroke! I think my brother got in trouble instead of me, but I can’t remember for sure.
I think it was after those two incidents, I learned not to try to imitate my older brother. He was older and knew how to handle life more than a little kindergartener did.
My brother and I did fight and have that sibling rivalry thing, up until I returned from surgery. We had rare moments where we didn’t fight or argue, but we were two different individuals. When I was younger, Jared had chores, while I didn’t; when dad would fuss at Jared to go do chores, occasionally I’d fuss dad and say “quit working Jared like you a slave-driver, dad,” but he’d often tell me “stay out of it, Jamie.” And I quickly shut up.
When we did argue/fight, it was often because I was a hyper little brat; I will admit that. I think it was mostly, I wanted him to play with me, and he wouldn’t. I called him names: “Jar-head, armadillo (I have no idea why,) Boy (that was more when I was a baby/preschooler).” Sometimes, I’d have a “food fight” at him with my tea-party play food. He was a boring teenager who didn’t want to play with his kid sister, and I wanted attention from my big brother; I just sought it annoyingly. He would pull jokes and pranks on me, and I took it the wrong way and would cry. When I was 2 years old, he put a frog in the “golden Easter egg” during an Easter egg hunt, and to this day, I blame that for my phobia of frogs. Sometimes, I would pick/instigate it, and when he’d try to “strike back,” I’d go hide; like the one time in 2nd grade when we had ice/snow, I went outside, got some icicles, and stuck it down the back of his shirt when he wasn’t looking. Afterward, he went outside to get some, I ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
When he had friends over, I’d try to hang out with them, tag along, and sometimes he’d lock me out of his room, or they’d torment me, by locking me in the hallway till I was a crying mess, banging on the doors; sometimes, one friend and him would pretend that they were going to put me in the oven; they wouldn’t actually turn the oven on, just open it and act like they were going to put me in; I’d cling to that friend’s neck and beg “No!”
One time when I was 6 years old, he had to babysit me. I was playing with his Nintendo NES, but he got mad that I had taken it out of his room without permission, so he unplugged it, and put it back into his room. I was easily scared of everything and every villain of every movie, but yet, I watched Anastasia the movie that night and slept on the floor in a sleeping bag in his room. I heard a noise, a voice,“Jamie, go unlock the back door.” It was my parents; it turns out they had locked themselves out. I tried to shake Jared awake, but to no success; I was so scared that it was a bad guy, trying to trick me, but I did go unlock the door and luckily it was my parents; I later found out, my brother was faking sleep just to see what I would do; what a jerk!
As I got into my teen years, he would be annoyed because unlike him, I had no “thirst” for knowledge. He felt I was “ignorant” and that was one of his pet peeves. He’d occasionally try to help me with math or science, but he’d end up confusing me more, and I’d get aggravated and snap at him. Other than that, we didn’t talk or hang out, mostly cause he was in college and I was still young and “ignorant”. The only time I remember him smiling during this time was the one time he got drunk and “creepy”; we had gone to a wedding for a cousin, and then after we went to see a movie: Mom, Dad, my brother, his girlfriend, and me. I don’t know how this happened, but somehow I got this seat between him and his girlfriend; my brother started to hug me, smiling, and ruffle my hair: I wasn’t used to that treatment by my brother, so I looked at his girlfriend and said: “switch seats with me, I think your boyfriend is plotting to kill me.” Another memory around this time was when I was getting curious about my Ehlers Danlose and my brother who always had an interest in science, came to me and held a scalpel and said: “all I need is a skin sample and I can get you your answers.” I looked at him and yelled “I’m not a science project, heck no! I’m not letting you cut me with that thing, get it away from me, weirdo!”
It wasn’t until I guess that I got into college myself, that we started to have a different relationship. When I’d see him, he’d ask me about my classes and how they were going, he’d offer to help me out when I’d hurt with aches, etc. He was there when I met Dr. Lenke for the first time, and he asked questions to Dr. Lenke. When my family did a benefit for my medical funds, he and his girlfriend helped out a lot. I guess what I am saying is, once I got into college myself, and wasn’t as “bratty” and “ignorant” he started to like/tolerate me, but it wasn’t until I got home from my St Louis journey, that our relationship got to what it is now; When I first got home, I had gotten a new computer and he was helping set it up. He had me sit next to him to watch, but he would ruffle my hair, and just smile at me; it’s like “uh…weren’t you suppose to ruffle my hair like that when I was 5?” Now when we see each other, we give hugs, no kisses because that’d just be too odd. He asks about how things are going in my life. I ask about his occasionally. We have a good relationship now, it was odd at first because I was so used to the tension, but I love it now. I know when I need it, my big brother will always have my back; Love you, Bro.