Thursday, April 12, 2018

ALIENS ABDUCTED MY MOTHER AND THEY BROUGHT HER BACK

I was just sitting here thinking (that's usually a dangerous thing for me to do) about my mother. FYI, I call my mother "Mother" and it's been a very long time since I've mentioned her in my blog. At one point in time I was obsessed with all aspects of her life and now, I live and let live most of the time.  Okay, so it isn't in my nature to live and let live regarding some things. 


Queen Tenacious
When I get determined and really dig my feet into something, no power on Earth is a match for me. Just ask anyone who knows me! I was raised on the mean streets of Mule City (next to East Podunk and BFE) reigned by HRH Queen Tenacious (my mother). The following is an updated excerpt from a previous post:
About 12 years ago (2006) my mother had some sort of break with reality.  It was as if aliens had swooped down and abducted the woman I had always known to be my mother and replaced her with a body double void of a mind.  She was merely an empty pod for the better part of several years. Naturally, the specialist she had been sent to see quickly diagnosed her with Alzheimer’s and put her on the usual course of meds to stabilize her condition and to slow down what the neurologist claimed would be a steady downward spiral.  I never agreed with that diagnosis for many reasons. The primary reason was that I had first hand experience with Alzheimer’s and knew how it manifested itself in a person. I knew what to look for and what to expect. I had previously been the caretaker of an Alzheimer’s patient until that person's death. Slowly, I weaned her off the meds she had been prescribed for Alzheimer’s knowing full well that she'd decline rapidly without the meds IF indeed, her diagnosis was correct. No such decline ever took place! There was just the constant hum of nothingness with no improvement or decline.
[Flash forward to 2018] My mother was talking to my SIL [sister in law] and rattling off about being in her art studio and all the "masterpieces" she has in various art shows and galleries. After my mother got done talking to my SIL, she handed me the phone. We exchanged the usual initial Blah! Blah! Blah! and then my SIL hesitated before asking me, "Am I missing something?" To that, I responded by telling her my mother had not only come back from whatever planet the aliens had been holding her hostage, but she now has her nose stuck in a book whenever she isn't out in her studio...just like before.

It was like the last 12 years hadn't happened except for all of us who had watched her trapped in some unresponsive void. I explained that the process had been very gradual, but in the past year or so she has made a full recovery from whatever it was that had her in lala land since 2006. One day the lights came back on and my mother returned home after her extended vacation. The various times I've asked my mother about that period of time, she has no clear recollection of anything. At best, the things she does remember is in bits and pieces and even those memories are very sketchy at best. To her, that void I speak of didn't really exist.

The real Queen Tenacious
Not long ago my mother was sent back to the same doctor who had diagnosed her with Alzheimer’s for some entirely unrelated reason and that same doctor admitted that he had been wrong and was amazed by her miraculous "recovery." I could tell by the expression on his face he truly was dumbfounded. With a lot of hard work and persistence, I pulled my mother back from wherever abyss she had fallen into during her breakdown. I have to admit there were many times I thought I was ready for a rubber room, but I hung in there and did what I thought was right regardless of what the doctors told me.  Today, I'm glad to say my mother is thriving at the young age of 90. The moral to this story is that sometimes you have to follow what your heart and instincts and cast aside what science and logic dictates. Welcome home, Mother!

Thursday, April 05, 2018

ABSURD CONFESSION DAY

Did you know April 5th is Absurd Confession Day? If not, now you do and I expect people to amuse me participating or else I'll make you wear a shock collar the next time you come for a visit!

My confession is that I'm a font junkie. My obsession started around 1996 when I bought my first computer. I really can't explain what it is about the world of fonts that caught my eye other than there's just something about being able to use fonts as a form of expression with any typed expression. Please don't ask me what my favorite font is because it varies from day to day from mood to mood from project to project. I can't emphasis enough the disappointment I have with the skimpy choice of fonts offered on blogs.  I suffer such immense mental anguish each time I compose a post.

My second confession (an added bonus) is most people would be surprised to find out that I have a collection of shoes many women would sell their first born to own. I even have shoes I've never worn...BUT they're sitting in my closet all bright and happy just waiting to be worn someday (or to be "transplanted" to my daughter's closet.) Recently I spent $200 for a pair that have never been on my feet since I bought them.  I guess I'm saving them for a rainy day (or to be "transplanted" to my daughter's closet.) For me, there's nothing like being asked where I bought the shoes I'm wearing. I have a doctor who upon entering the exam room I'm in never looks at me first. She checks out what shoes I'm wearing and then we go from there into my medical issues. I certainly admire a person who is so easily distracted and not afraid to show where their true priorities lie.

Okay, now it's your turn to expose those hidden things about yourself that few people know and I'll sit here waiting in breathless anticipation to read all your absurd confessions. Remember honesty is the best policy and certainly makes for a much better read than having smoke blown up my ass buns of steel.