So around 3:15 p.m. on Saturday, March 8, 2020, I received an email from email@example.com saying I had gotten $250.00 from a Jeremy Fontenot. I found that strange considering I don’t know any Jeremy Fontenots and when I looked at details the email was addressed to firstname.lastname@example.org not my Jamie.email@example.com so why did it go to my gmail? Even stranger, the person wrote “for tickets” in the details for the transaction. What tickets? I wasn’t selling any tickets or anything. I was faced with a moral decision to make..”Do I keep the money even though I know it wasn’t intended for me even though I could really use it?” or “Do I do the right thing, email the person, tell them the mixup and send the money back?” I did what I would want someone to do if it was me, I emailed them and then returned the money to them, even though I really (really, really, really) wanted to keep it. I did however get something out of it; not monitary, but something much better- Pride in myself, and I got a compliment from the individual in an email, “Thank you so much. I really appreciate your kind heart in this situation. It could’ve gone in a negative direction, but because of you, it was very nice. This gives me one more example to tell of how there are great people in this world. I hope you have a fantastic day and blessings your way. By the way, I told my cousin that since yall emails are so close, I advised him to change it up a little so this confusion doesn’t happen again. Y’all already have the same name! LOL.” and I emailed back, telling him “LOL, Only difference really is I am female. I’ve been scammed out of money before, so I get it and I’m disabled so I guess I have a lot of empathy I guess, I dont know. Anyway thanks for the compliments. Would I liked $250 ,sure who wouldn’t? But Keeping it wouldn’t be right. Anyway God bless and If you would like to know more about my life and story, I have 2 blog pages and a youtube channel,” and gave him the links to them. He emailed back saying ” I will definitely look at your youtube and read about your story.” So I possibly got a new online follower out of it 🙂
“What’s the difference?” poem
What is the difference
of people who are handicapped and special needs
are they not all people too?
why must we be judged by our appearances, and
making us feel alone in the world.
why do we constantly put stress on each other, and
why cant we all just get along?
what is the difference?
don’t we all have souls, arms, and legs?
whats the difference?
just because we look different,
doesn’t mean we are a different species, mutants or freaks of nature.
What is the difference?
So annoyed with rude people…
I had my go fund me page since Jan or Feb. people have been generous and I thank them (especially the author of “Wonder” who generously donated $1000.) However, I share it constantly on all my social media platforms and a few people share it, but today made me so sick to my stomach.
I shared it a group on for people with similar disabilities and one of the members felt it was her responsibility to “set me straight.” – Evidence down below: Sally Hockman is a snooty and rude individual. She doesn’t know my story. She doesn’t know what I deal with on a daily basis. “Many people have broken beg for money,” but do these people happen to have great health insurance or doctors who take no matter the state? ….some people aren’t lucky!
anxiety, tears, adorable kids, and pizza; My “Today”
Today was not great of a day except for one little event during the middle of the day. I had gotten a ticket from Build-a-bear for the “Pay your age,” event and was able to take my “future nieces” (older one being 9 years old and the baby, 9 months.) However, earlier that day was not great.
It started by my 9-year-old “future niece,” going to get the mail at my apartment mailbox; I got a letter from St Louis billing department saying that I was “denied,” hardship assistance and didn’t meet the national poverty requirement (how is not having health insurance besides Louisiana Medicaid, and only living on SSI and food stamps, not poverty?) – side note: called and talked to someone and got it straightened out, after I had already had my anxiety panic attack because “I need this surgery but I don’t wanna go into debt and cause my family and friends to go into debt for it.” However, I had to put that anxiety attack away to go enjoy the build-a-bear event with my fiance’, his sister, her husband, and the two children.
The older sister got a “Siamese looking” cat that she named Melody and their mom picked out an adorable bear and put in a “giggle sound,” that made my 9-month-old “future niece,” smile at; we named the bear Giggles. We probably spent more than we wanted to- because if we’d done just the stuffies with no sounds or accessories, it’d have only been $10, but we got each a sound (Melody had a cat sound and the Giggles had the giggle sound effect) so add in $9 more dollars, and then each got one accessory- the cat got a purse, and I don’t remember what the baby got for hers.) The total was $31 something, so $31-$19= the two accessories costing $12 together so about $5 or $6 each. We covered about $10-15 each. It was worth it. I got to forget my anxiety and play with my “future nieces” especially the cute baby. LOL. I love them both, but adorable babies (when not crying and screaming) seem to make the world go right and make you forget your stress, whereas an older child who may not be able to entertain herself that well, may stress you more.)
After Build-a-bear, we went to eat at Cici’s pizza buffet. It was okay. I watched them feed the baby pieces of brownie and how she made that adorable smile at the taste of the chocolatey goodness, and my 9-year-old “future niece,” wanted me to sit by her. She tells me all the time she loves me, she constantly hugs me and wants my attention. She doesn’t seek that from her uncle; she’s even gone as far as to tell the family, “If DJ and Jamie break up, can we keep Jamie instead?” to which the family always corrects her, “aunty Jamie,” and I’m just thinking “don’t force her to call me something if it doesn’t feel natural to her. she doesn’t call DJ, “Uncle DJ,” LOL.
After Cici’s pizza buffet, we departed ways; they were going see a Movie at the theater where my fiance’ brother in law worked at; I think it was only so the 9-year-old wouldn’t beg to stay longer with me and her uncle at the apartment complex, because at the Build-a-bear thing, when we were leaving, she kept saying, “I wish I didn’t have to go home. I wanna stay longer with yall.” Which broke my heart having to be stern and tell her “no,” because she needed to get back and do her Homeschool SchoolWork and plus I didn’t feel that I could entertain her properly: I was still stressing about that letter, in the back of my mind. I told her, we’d try to get her again before I have my surgery in August.
When I got home, I finally had gotten in touch with someone in billing to discuss the letter about being “denied,” financial assistance. They explained that despite it being out of state Medicaid, they were still going to try to file with them, so currently, my balance showed $0.00. The department explained that if Medicaid denies the claim and if I get another bill, just to call them back and explain how I got another bill, and to reprocess my application for financial assistance. So all that anxiety and worry and my panic attack, were basically for nothing because I am not completely “denied,” just denied if Medicaid accepts the claim. I hate how they word the letters, it makes worry creep in. Mom said it was a lesson I need to learn because if I want a family, I can’t be freaking out like that all the time. She also explained how I am not alone in this “battle,” for my obstacles and stuff with my disabilities, I have family, friends, David, his family, etc. But overall that it is the devil playing with me and doesn’t want me to trust in God my father and savior. I need to tell him, “be gone, Satan. My God, my father, loves me and I am wonderfully made for a purpose. He has led me this far for a reason.”
I will try to do better to trust in my God and savior, my loving father, my almighty creator. Amen.
Also when I got home, it started raining so of course, my back started hurting, so I took a 3-hour nap on Pain meds. After waking up, my stomach decided to reject the pizza (I am guessing it was the pizza: my abdomen was swollen, I was bloated and cramping so bad that it sent pain into my sides, my sides of my abdomen were sensitive to touch, and the really bad cramps left me short of breath. It is slowly getting relief after Tums and Pepto Bismol and just time.
Sometimes I wish my life was easy, but God never promised an easy life- Thank you, Adam and Eve, for original sin messing everything up; if they wouldn’t have given in to the serpent’s temptations, we’d all be happy and carefree, running around butt- naked in the Garden of Eden and not knowing any pain or difference. No bullying, no stress, no strife. *Sigh* Paradise lost. However, we are not alone, Jesus, God’s only son, had to die on the cross for crimes he didn’t commit. He suffered, why should we be any better than him and not have to suffer? the answer is, we shouldn’t. Anyway, I am rambling now. Goodnight, God Bless, and try to find the silver lining 🙂
Medical Headache, incompetence, and idiotic rules
As you all are aware by now, yesterday I went to Vidalia for a pain management appointment and found out that I have Osteoporosis forming. Today, I called my Surgeon in St Louis, Missouri, to find out if it would affect my surgery.
Missouri office: Can they fax it to the results to us?
Me: I’ll call and ask.
Vidalia office: we need a release, however, we can send the results to your referring doctor.
Referring Dr office: Oh, we can’t fax other doctors’ records.
*Facepalms* This is why the medical field and disabilities suck. Can’t get help, what so ever. You are a freaking Dr. Office, do your job!
I called the St Louis office back and explained the situation and they are going to call Vidalia and see if there is something they can do.
Latest “Twist” in my life- Developing Osteoporosis
Today I had my monthly appointment with pain management doctor in Vidalia, Louisiana. At my last appointment, they did a bone density test; today they went over the results and it turns out I am developing Osteoporosis. They did not say where it was developing and I was too in shock to ask. I have it written down for next month’s appointment. The doctors are starting me on Fosamax to increase my bone density and hopefully help to where I am not as “brittle” for surgery time in August.
In other news, we have my fiance’s niece for a couple days at the apartment. 🙂 she is always a pretty good distraction for my pain. Tonight, we made tacos for supper 🙂 Another good bit of news is my fiance and I will start praying the rosary together every night and gonna start going back to church on sundays #RelationshipsWithGodlastLonger 🙂
another sleepless night; chronic pain and tears.
A bad storm passed through Louisiana this week so it has been quite a bit of sleepless nights for me lately and then add in the dreaded once a month bullshit us females have to deal with, adding in stress, anxiety, hormones, emotional roller coaster, all that (sarcastic tone) “fun.” Tonight, I tossed and turned for 2 hours while my fiance’ just lays next to me snoring; sure, I could wake him up and make him suffer with me, but that is selfish plus he works to provide for us, so I guess he needs the sleep more than I do, but it sure would be nice to be able to talk these things out instead of blogging them.
I have a mattress that can elevate the head, it helps with migraines and sometimes my upper back (then I gotta deal with my lower back and hips hurting), but tonight my upper back is hurting and I am not even gonna use the head-elevation because lately it has been making my fiance’ back hurt in the morning; which sent me down the dreaded “rabbit hole” of the uncertainty of a future together: What if I become bed-ridden, what if he has to help me with everything more than he does now? That isn’t what he signed on for! It isn’t fair to him. I know he made a commitment to me and he constantly reminds me of it anytime I start crying and freaking out about how much pain I am in and the fears that sends into me about how uncertain my life and future are; I just don’t want him to have regrets or resentments. I love him, I really do, but when these fears kick in, I go into flight mode and tend to push him away, thinking I am saving him from being stuck in a sucky future with me and my damn disability. How can I expect him to accept it and what it does to me, if I cant even accept it completely myself?
If there was a pill created to make me “normal,” like everyone else in society, I would take it! Even though I also feel like having my disability has made me a well-rounded, wise, empathetic, compassionate, supportive, loyal, passionate person. Does it make me a bad person? Why is it I can be a support system and cheerleader for others with disabilities but yet I cant even accept myself completely? Does it make me a hypocrite? Maybe its just the pain talking; well the pain and the damn devil. I need to really work on myself and loving myself for me; whole-y and completely. Maybe after my surgery to fix my rods, maybe my pain will be better, and I can start being happy again. One can only hope.