One Mountain conquered, but life dealt me another summit to excavate.. *Latest Update*

People often say “The world is a rainbow of different communities spreading love and good, frolocking with others. There are the ones who are the pessimistis who see their world as a never ending burden of turmoil and misery, and then the type that are the “fakers”- The ones who walk around all jolly and happy and wearing a complete “mask” in public. That is me.

I guess you are probably wondering “what is this going on about? The title says ‘One Mountain conquered, but life dealt me another summit to excavate.” What I mean by this is, I had my surgery to fix the broken rods and it was a major success, however during that surgery another issue was discovered; an infection in my rods.

Below are my newest X-rays.

To combat this infection issue, a pic-line was placed in my left arm while I was at Barnes Jewish Hospital in St Louis, Missouri, and put on antibiotics via IV infusions for 6 weeks and then will be switched to an antibiotic pill indefinitely until the doctor sees fit to get me off said antibiotics.

A week after my surgery, on Aug. 21, I was discharged from the hospital to go back to my home in Louisiana so that Medicaid would cover my IV antibiotics; if not, We would’ve had to pay out of pocket for the treatments and it was $120 a treatment (6 weeks of treatments, 2 x a day- so $120 a treatment x2 times a day x7 days x 6 weeks = $10080, and then if we stayed in s Louis but not at the hospital (haven house)= $50 a night x 6 weeks at least = $2100..yeah, I think we made the better decision by coming home…LOL)

Now 2 weeks and 4 days post-op, I awoke to my IV tape rolled up, the pic line area exposed (I am thinking that I was scratching in my sleep). When my fiance went to clean it up and re-tape it, he noticed that the pic line was out more than the doctors like, so we rushed to our local E.R., Lady of Lourdes Hospital. Once there, they were swift about getting me to the back; a nurse, however, decided to remove my pic line from my left arm (which was covered in red splotches due to allergic reaction to the tape) instead of leaving it for the specialist to push it back in. Hours later, the specialist showed up and had to re- stick me for a new pic line in my right arm now, when she said that had the nurse previously not removed it, they could’ve just pushed my other one back in. Now I am back home and my right arm is sore and throbbing because the lidocaine sedative is wearing off and my muscles are aching.

Oh well, I did what I needed to do and I will “grin and bear” this burden I have to deal with for 6 weeks until I can switch to my pill version of antibiotics. I cannot wait for this darn pic line to be out of my arm, but all good things come to those who wait. I will pray for God to grant me patience to deal with it.

Rewrite the stars- Greatest Showman song- relates to my relationship with my fiance’

Last night, I was on my pain meds and as usual the drugs made me a sappy, hormonal, emotional wreck; especially when all they do is make me tired and don’t actually help my pain, and as tired as I am, I cannot get comfy enough to actually go to sleep- which causes me to become irritable, frustrated, and emotional. Warning: Below, is how I feel on those kinds of days. You’ve been warned.

Don’t get me wrong, I do absolutely love my fiance’ and most of the time I cannot absolutely at all fathom my life without him, but on my really bad pain days when I am cooped up in the house on pain meds and can’t stand my own life, I relate to Zendaya’s lyrics of the song.

He is so positive and confident about us, and I am like that girl (because of my age difference and looking like a kid, and my disability- the “mountains,” and “doors can’t walk through”) and what the world thinks. and just waiting for him to realize that it is hopeless and impossible for us to truly be happy together. I am always thinking “he didn’t sign on for all these issues: Me hurting all the time, me lashing out at him because I am hurting and frustrated; because I’m irritable.. How can I expect him to love me when I don’t even love myself?”

Maybe he’ll teach me a thing or two, or maybe if I have such idle time, pay attention to the negativity.
It’s a lot of self-esteem issues and idle time, pain meds causing depression, being bullied from a very young age (5 years old)- it’s hard to escape the “voices” of my past, but I am working hard on it because I do love him and I know he loves me.

Place in the world Poem

At a fork,

 unsure which way to go,

which path to take,

 where is my place?

 The Mark that I will make,

 to leave my name on this planet Earth, 

What road do I travel? 

Where will Life’s journey send me?

stuck at the fork,

 indecisions and unsure feelings,

obstacles and road blocks,

refusing my passage,

another mountain to climb,

another challenge to conquer,

How do i choose?

How do I Find my place?

My place, my mark on the world,

 the legacy I will leave behind,

 How do I find it,

in such a huge huge world, filled with endless choices,

 but physical limitations, that and fear,

preventing me,blocking me,

not trusting and believing in myself,

 blame lack of self-esteem and lack of confidence,

but I’m just a small girl,in a huge huge world.

 One day, I’ll grow,

let go of the fear and obstacles holding me back,

I’ll figure it out,

one day at a time, 

learning and growing each day,

 blossoming, and  blooming into a young lady,

I’ll find my way one day,

and have my found my place in the world.

What is Normalcy?

What is normalcy?  Normality is the condition of being normal; the state of being usual, typical, or expected, but what is “normal”? The definition of Normal can be defined as conforming to the standard or the common type; usual; not abnormal; regular; natural.  As humans, especially around the ages of adolescence, all the way up to adulthood, we seek to be accepted; to be “normal,” but who are we to decide what is and isn’t normal?

                If someone is different than us: whether it be in beliefs, religions, color of skin, sexuality, behaviors, physical appearances, etc., we make judgments and assumptions. Due to culture or who we grow up around, sometimes if we see a male with black skin, we assume they are dangerous.  If a child acts up in the store, we assume they need butt-whooping and are lacking discipline, when really there could be underlying issues such as Autism or some other mental disability. If an Autistic child has a sudden “spasm” of energy and bounces around, we judge it as “weird,” or “funny,” and often times our teenage “normal” children mock and make fun of such behaviors.  If we know someone is homosexual or “gay,” we automatically think/judge that those people are “going to hell,” due to religions’ teachings.  We think “our way” is the right way and all or any other ways are all wrong, but God made us all different with different talents and gifts, shouldn’t our differences be celebrated instead of us being crucified and stoned to death for them?  No Matter the differences, we are all human and we all bleed the same. Who are we to Judge others, when we as humans, all have sins and “Skeletons in our closets”? We are not God, even if you don’t believe in him, we have no right to judge others when we have our own faults. Why can’t there be more love in the world and less hate, bullying, and ill-will towards others; like the Black- Eyed Peas’ song, “Where Is the Love?” We as a species need to learn to “drop the arms” and learn to hug it out instead, or we will end up fighting ourselves into extinction.  I, for one, refuse to be “Normal,” I want to be Abnormal. 

Self Esteem Poem

Staring in the mirror,

Once again,

A never ending war,

Another day to settle,

On the reflection,

Staring back at me.

                Scars on my back, stomach, and side,

Evidence of my pressure sore, and trache also,

“My battle wounds,”

Of my Medical War,

Taunting me,

As they still are so evident.

                The Squishy, poor posture,

That prevents me,

From feeling beautiful,

And having that “model look”

In crop tops and bikinis;

                Physical differences rearing their ugly faces,

Evident and tormenting me.

I punch the reflection, then yell,

Holding my hand now,

I sit back and think,

Back on my life,

And suddenly smile.

                All the wonderful people in my life,

Some I wouldn’t have met,

If I had not had,

The bad physical disability that I had.

                The lives I’ve touched,

The people I’ve inspired,

How I gave others hope,

Why can’t I do that for myself?

I suck down the “poor Pitiful me” party,

And break another smile,

I am thankful for everyone in my life,

Because even though,

I am not “normal,”

They are in my life,

                Love me, and make my life,

Which would otherwise be lonely, cloudy, and grey,

Shine with a beauty bright. 

“What is Normal?” Poem

What is normal?

Is there an exact definition?

What does it look like?

Is it defined as:

Someone who looks like you?

But how can that be,

When everyone is designed differently?

                Does it have a common religion?

Or language speak?

Once again, how is that a possibility?

When each person varies,

In faith and speech?

                I know!

Maybe, perhaps, it is someone who behaves as you?

Once again, this cannot be,

The way they present themselves,

And act publicly,

Could be to show off,

Or due to some disability.

                So, I ask this question repeatedly,

What is normal?

To me,

The word does not exist,

Except by segregationists

                Do you wish to segregate?

And insinuate hate?

No? Then hear my plea,

Let’s erase this word,

From every persons’ mouth,

Erase it from the world’s vocabulary.

What is normal?

Dreams can change the world Poem

Notebook opened, 

pen in hand, 

paper blank, 

thoughts unplanned. 

Mind, 

a jumbled mess, 

so much to say, 

no idea where to begin!

Mind racing, 

head starting to spin!

Thoughts and ideas, 

bouncing around, 

pinballs in my brain. 

A jumbled mess, hurting my head

I sit there,

staring at the blank slate,

Waiting and waiting, 

for the thoughts and ideas, 

to join together, 

to fit, 

like a solved puzzle. 

Looking back at the notebook, 

*gasp* there are words!

The message finally written,

but will it be heard? 

Fight the fear!

Don’t hold back!

Speak your Mind!

I tell myself,

Let your message be heard,

lead the blind.

The message heard, now,

let it change the world.