I Chose Gratitude

Blogging Friends.... Thank-you from the depths of my heart and soul for every comment on "Minuscule is good!". One word. Wow!! You, my dear Friends are wonderful!! I have definitely felt the love!! Expect a new post on "Minuscule is good!"--Lord willing!!--come Monday!! Oh, and a little heads-up. I plan to moderate its comments box soon.

 

I am writing this with a cold. I have been battling it all week. Ugh. Oh, and I hardly slept a wink last night due to one nasty asthma attack which rudely awoke me around 12AM. I inhaled some albuterol, then finally gave up at three after it relapsed, and realized that there was no way I was ever going back to sleep, I wrote most of this post!! Ah, Heaven!! If it is foggy {Like my head!!} I sincerely apologize!!

 

"You fail only if you stop writing." --Ray Bradbury

 

Give in to self-pity? Or feel gratitude? My crazy head was having a difficult time deciding which equally palpable emotion to experience, as I could sense yet another title wave of mood swing-infused pity parties on the horizon. Not surprising. Here they come again!! Give in to self-pity? Let it overtake my emotions like some violent military attack? I have valid reasons to do so. Yet another shattered, unobtainable dream for starters. Once again feeling like a failure. Someone who I am in close proximity to will soon attend college classes in pursuit of an amazingly big ambition. Once again making me feel like a failure. Or. Should I feel gratitude? For the many blessings which God has bestowed upon me? Such as my gift of writing. The other day, I discovered this quote by Ray Bradbury. "You fail only if you stop writing.". I like that!! Because. For no matter what season of life I walked, or how many different obsessions my mind acquired, I'd always be writing!! "Star Wars"? I wrote fictional stories--which I've long-ago mislocated--about Darth Vader, his Storm Troopers, Han Solo, and me. Acting? I would--as a teenager--play with Barbie dolls, meanwhile writing in my head their characters and stories. Tom Hanks? I wrote a fictional story about the actor--again which has been mislocated--about me sharing my Faith with him over McDonald's french fries. Former major league baseball pitcher Curt Schilling? I wrote about his final career milestones and World Series starts like some newspaper journalist. I still have those!! For no matter how many different obsessions my mind acquired, I'd always be writing!! Always. "You fail only if you stop writing.". Mmmm.... By the way? This here post was an accurate account--if memory serves me--of what I have been struggling with, but best of all, learning through lately. Give in to self-pity? Or feel gratitude? It is a choice. Which did I choose? I chose gratitude!! You know what? When I stop throwing myself pity parties regarding being different, amazing things always occur. Amazing things. I realize that my very life existence is a terrible privilege, yet minuscule. I reach out to Moms {Plus one Dad!!} who have had children either born with craniosynostosis or congenital diaphragmatic hernia. I start a Blog which will feature monthly Writing Projects. When I stop throwing myself pity parties regarding being different, amazing things always occur. Amazing things....              

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Have Another Blog!!

{Posted on "Minuscule is good!"}

 Blogging Friends.... I think I must be going insane. No, I am not suffering through any mood swings!! Correction. I am going insane!! Lately, I've been struggling with the concept that I lead a small existence. Which, honestly? I like. I truly do!! I live at home. That's right. I am a 29-year old learning disabled individual who lives with her parents. I never did attend college. I do not even work outside the home. Oh, but I write!! Yes, I write, expressing myself with words!! And, lately? I have also been struggling with the concept of yet another broken, shattered, unobtainable dream. A cosmic broken, shattered, unobtainable dream. However. This does not make me a failure. Quite the contrary!! Because, I am a writer with nearly an entire page-ful of diverse Writing Project ideas just awaiting to be created!! You know what? No matter how many dreams or ambitions or broken aspirations I have possessed throughout the years, my heart and soul always, always, always returned to writing. A doctor? No. I want to be a writer. A Hollywood actress? No. I want to be a writer. A search-and-rescue helicopter pilot? No. I want to be a writer!! No matter what it was. Anything and everything I dreamed. I returned back to my love of writing, like a boomerang. Which means. I was simply meant to be an artist!! And lately? This particular Robert Downey Jr. quote from 2010 has resurfaced within my mind. I have meditated on it, pondering his words. So. It's the title of my new Blog!! "Minuscule is good!". Yes, you read that correctly!! I am now maintaining twain Blogs!! I will explain on its sidebar why, exactly, I chose "Minuscule is good!". Just because. This Blog will be posted on monthly, with Internet-worthy Writing Projects. So, be certain to check it around the first!! Thank-you, dear Blogging Friends. For all your support. I need it.

The address is this.

http://writing--projects.blogspot.com/

Survivor's Guilt

"Why should I be spared when anybody else would?" --Robert Downey Jr.

 

{Taken from my Life Story!!}

 

Next, I Google-searched congenital diaphragmatic hernia Blogs. I repeat. This was huge for me. Revealing that I had been born with C.D.H. . Again, it was a cosmic leap toward self-acceptance!! Yes, a cosmic leap!! Tragically, the first two consecutive Web sites that I discovered were about children who passed away. Yes, passed away. One was an infant. The other a child. This yanked at my heartstrings, profoundly touching many conflicting emotions. They died because of medical complications which resulted from a birth defect that I survived. I survived. And, sadly, sweet children are still dying. When I delve into it, on a deeply psychological level, this fills my heart with immense survivor's guilt. Yes, survivor's guilt. Why? Because I am alive. They are not. But on the other hand? It also makes me ever more grateful for my life which was spared. Yes, ever more grateful. Because, by God's Amazing Grace, I am alive. Because of surgeons' skills, and 1980's medical technology, I am alive. And because I'm stubborn, plus "hard to kill", I am alive!!

 

What a huge, huge unshakable, twisted feeling. I oft wonder if any other survivors share these deep, deep, deep emotions with me....

 

My Blog gained a new Follower last week. For which I am grateful!! Her name is Shelly, and she had this Beautifully Unique grandson--named Jayden--who was born with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia. Yes, you read that correctly. Shelly had this Beautifully Unique grandson named Jayden who was born with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia. Tragically, he passed away. Jayden would have been--should have been--three years old by now. But, alas, he was born with my birth defect. And this precious little boy made the other fifty percentile. Confession. Although I can't evade the C.D.H. mortality statistic, I do, however, attempt to dodge Blogs and Websites written about such kids who didn't make it. Not because I am running from reality. Although, I'm very, very, very good at that!! But the emotions, feelings, plus psychological thoughts which would be involved, if I did reach out to still-grieving families. I mean. What have I to offer these Moms, Dads, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Friends? I am so very sorry for you loss.... But I'm pushin' 30 in January? I cannot offer them hope, because they already outlived a child. Well, yesterday, I left this comment, in an effort to thank Shelly for being my new Follower. I wrote these words. Shelly.... My throat is dry, and deep, deep, deep emotions are rushing through me like a river as these words are being written. I am so very, very sorry for your loss of sweet, precious, Beautifully Unique Jayden. A Kindred Spirit CDH Buddy, who, unlike me, did not survive. Such conflicting feelings are twisting through my head regarding Jayden not being alive. Feelings best kept from this comment box. Please accept my most heartfelt condolences. Thanks for following my Blog!! You are number 43!! --Raelyn. This was, perhaps, the hardest comment that I have ever written!! Actually. I know it was the hardest comment that I've ever written. And, although I haven't yet memorized every detail of our C.D.H. experience, it was not nearly as dramatic as most stories. {Funny. I could recite our craniosynostosis journey in my sleep!! It impacted Mom and Dad much more profoundly.} Let's see if I have this right. Doctors were unsure, exactly, of what was ailing my long, skinny, birth defected body. So. They watched me closely. It was the freakin' '80's, after all. They must have known very little about this life-threatening birth defect. Because I had the best doctors and hospital on this planet!! {Yes, I am a bit biased!! Deal with it!!} That's right. Doctors did not repair my C.D.H. immediately, as they should have. But I repeat. They must have known very little about this life-threatening birth defect. Eventually, my left lung collapsed. Oh. And my heart was enlarged. Oh. And my liver was displaced. Okay. After my lung collapsed, Doctor C. repaired the congenital diaphragmatic hernia. He stitched that hole right up. Dr. C. re-inflated my lung. {How, I would love to see!!} And he put that wanderlust liver in its correct location. There were zero complications, amazingly enough!! Doctors and nurses did not even put any narcotics into my system!! Is it no wonder that I tolerate pain? I do not think so!!  

 

"I shouldn't be alive... unless it was for a reason. I'm not crazy. I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it's right." --Tony Stark

Oh, sweet, sweet Jayden. I dedicate this post in memory of every child who did not survive congenital diaphragmatic hernia. My birth defect. Your families know who you are.     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We're On Holiday

Blogging Friends.... I'm back!! I have returned home from "our" cabin in the woods. We had a nice relaxing time together as an entire family. {My parents, oldest brother, sister-in-law, niece, sister, youngest brother, Rose, and I!!} Twain beautiful things occurred during our trip. One. When you awaken every morning to pine-scented trees and a rushing creek, mood swing-infused pity parties are simply not welcome!! I didn't expect that!! See, I kept awaiting their inevitable return. For I know all too well that my negative feelings/emotions are unpredictable. But then again. I did leave home feeling grateful, humble and happy!! Which I think truly helped!! And two. Inspired by my niece, Little Munchkin, I wrote a short, cute children's story!! In, like, one day!! That beat the time I devoted to writing my Life Story!! Which was, perhaps, eight freakin' months!! And yes. You may read Little Munchkin's inspired story, my dear Blogging Friends!! Eventually!! That is a promise!!

Experts say that when you spend time with someone, you'll soon begin talking like them. Whether it be your significant other. A sister. Or your longtime best friend. And experts are absolutely correct, for this very fact I have observed. But, does it count when you've never even met your Friends in person, because they reside "across the pond", as that phrase goes? Does it? Because all week long, I kept saying--without even thinking--"we're on holiday"!! And then, I would make this comment. "I'm talkin' like a Brit!!". {Sans the accent. See. When I attempt to speak with a British accent, I'm afraid that I mock English people!! It is that bad!!} Well, Rose seemingly decided that she was on holiday, as well!! Because, not only did Rose lazily lounge around the cabin. But, she refused to eat dog food!! That's right. Rose, my food-lovin' Beagle cross refused to eat her own dog food!! Which, as per usual, I packed more than we even needed!! I do that!! I would repeatedly walk Rose into the mudroom where her dog food was located, and encourage my mutt, but it was for naught. Every time. No, Rose wanted to have whatever we were eating. Because, dog food? She can have that any day. So, I did spoil Rose and allowed her some of our food. With one rule. It had to be okay for her. Nothing containing raisins, onions, and, of course, chocolate. So, along with our now-traditional home-baked chicken broth cornbread biscuits, Rose ate a few cheeseburger bites, plus one tomato slice on the first night. Which, I dumped into her dog food. And she stubbornly picked the cheeseburger bites/tomato slice out!! Go figure. The following morning, her stomach was growling, sounding like some puma's cry, each second growling louder and louder and louder. Louder and louder and louder. Little Munchkin, being one, is quite the messy eater!! She will drop more food on those wooden floors than what makes her mouth!! So. If Rose cannot--or shouldn't--be employed as Little Munchkin's living breathing canine vacuum cleaner, then I cleaned up after my niece. Gladly!! Well, the second night, Little Munchkin was not eating anything that Rose couldn't. Hamburger. Corn. Bacon strips. Organic plain yogurt. So, I deployed my vacuum cleaner with the long, pink tongue!! Perhaps Rose was still refusing her dog food. However. Rose did eat an entire meal that evening courtesy of Little Munchkin!! The following morning, her stomach was growling once again, sounding like some puma's cry, each second growling louder and louder and louder. Louder and louder and louder. What? I am supposed to feel sorry for Rose? {I did, anyway!!} On our last morning, there were scrambled eggs left over. So we fed them to Rose, once again dumping it into her dog food. The same thing occurred as with those cheeseburger bites and tomato. She stubbornly picked the scrambled eggs out!! What can I say? Rose was on holiday!! Consequentially, she only had one bowel movement {But zero accidents!!} which occurred on Tuesday morning. Even though I packed way too many plastic recycled newspaper bags!! See, Rose has struggled with minor digestive problems. Nothing serious or worrisome. When we first adopted her, Rose also suffered from separation anxiety. Those twain issues combined caused Rose to have accidents whenever we left her home alone. Of the poop variety. Mostly. Then, my neighbor, Deborah, a seasoned dog owner, and Rose's friend, Sophie's Mom, suggested pumpkin. Yes, it is a natural dog laxative. I had never heard of such a concept before!! Huh!! They certainly did not write about pumpkin being a dog laxative in my reference books!! Wow!! I was alone, head-over-heels in love with this mutt, and desperate. Sans drugs, I would try anything!! Plus, I knew and trusted Deborah as a friend. So. I began feeding Rose a spoonful of pumpkin every night, she was placed on a regular pooping schedule, and, bada-bing, our problems were solved!! However. Occasionally, I am on what I call "poop watch". Like some patrol officer. Okay, not really!! And, all throughout our holiday, I was on poop watch!! Rose did not have any bowel movements until Friday morning. Once we were home, no longer on vacation, and she was eating her dog food. Yes, three days later!! According to one of my dog reference books, this means that Rose was very, very, very constipated, even though she showed zero symptoms. However. This has occurred before. At least on two other occasions. Thus, I was not very worried. Oh. But I was worried!! I mean, what's a Mama to do? I should have known that withholding herself from dog food would mess everything up in there. I should have known. Lesson learned!!   

Soul Searching

Blogging Friends.... We are leaving for our cabin in the woods on Monday!! I am so looking forward to this rejuvenating trip!! I love, love, love woodsy locations!! Trees. A rushing river. Wildlife. It is so relaxing!! We will not return until Thursday. So, peace out!!  

Soul searching. It is a healthful mental, emotional, physical and spiritual experience.... Right? Good. Because here I go again!! I am actually in a happy, grateful, humble state of mind right now. No matter. Because just when I recover from my one and a half week-long series of cosmic mood swing-infused pity parties, they lurk about, tempting me again. Awaiting my fall. Watching me break, like the tough hardboiled egg that I am, prompting a crack. Any day now, right? Nope!! I am battling these mood swing-infused pity parties. I'm alright. Mood swing-infused pity parties are, for me, like annoying, trespassing paparazzi to poor unsuspecting celebrity families. They never, never, never go away. I can be in a state of happiness. Or feel vulnerable. Either way, mood swing-infused pity parties can hide behind the shrubs and shadows of my soul. Like paparazzi. The other day, I found this freshly-snapped picture of Robert Downey Jr. walking the streets of Massachusetts with his lovely wife, Susan, and adorable little boy, Exton. He was pushing a stroller {For reasons beyond my comprehension. It thrilled me to see Robert Downey Jr. pushing a stroller!!} this blue striped blanket draped over Exton. There were two cute things about this picture. One. Exton was fearlessly lifting up the blanket in this straight-faced look-at-me, peek-a-boo manner, most likely right at the paparazzi. And two. Robert Downey Jr. was wearing this protective Papa Bear expression on his face. Not mean, angry or aggressive. Just protective. You have to feel for celebrity families sometimes. Sure, paparazzi comes with the territory when you are a huge Hollywood movie star. But still. You have to feel for celebrity families sometimes. So. My mood swing-infused pity parties lurk about like trespassing paparazzi. It is usually concerning the same old, same old issues. My learning disabilities. And lately, being born with craniosynostosis has been the mood swing-infused pity party's trigger. See, I suffer from premature short-term memory loss. At 29. And I always, always, always have suffered from short-term memory loss. Even as a little girl. Do you have any idea how many older people have pointblank told me that I am "too young" for short-term memory loss? Oh, I get so sick and tired of such comments!! But I'm always grateful for God's given Grace with my answers. Then, the other day a dear sweet "Grandma"-like friend who I ran into mentioned that she knew of somebody who had experienced head trauma and, although he is young, suffers from short-term memory loss. Head trauma. Yeah, that sounds about right. My skull was only surgically cut open and reconstructed twain times!! Twain freakin' times!! You know what? Sometimes I just want to stare up at the sky, shake my fist, and curse at craniosynostosis. Because it is solely responsible for my learning disabilities/short-term memory loss. And what was so traumatic about our craniosynostosis experience that I walked away mentally scathed? What? Was it the fact that Dr. J. removed frontal bone from my forehead? {I have done research!! For that Life Story of mine. I was up past 2AM researching, high on chocolate, my mind completely alert!! True story!! Because I am insane!!} Through the wonderful world of Blogging, I have "met" nine "Cranio" kids. Nine!! Nothing pleases me more than to read that they are developing well educationally!! Not learning disabled, like me. Now, should any of these Beautifully Unique children have "developmental delays", would I still love them? Yes. If anything, I would love them more. And I cannot explain why!! But, is it okay to never wish craniosynostosis upon any baby? Was I wrong when immediate concerns over potential learning disabilities resurfaced within my head after hearing that Dad's close friend's grandson was born with the birth defect several years ago? Now. Just because you are born with craniosynostosis does not necessarily guarantee "developmental delays". As a matter of fact. I recently read about this "Cranio" woman {In her thirties!! I am not there. Yet!!} who works as a licensed practical nurse!! I could never obtain that profession. Even if I wanted to!! See, I am not nearly intelligent enough, plus math wasn't my best school subject!! As this tall, skinny, long-legged girl growing up, I wanted to be a pediatrician just like our wonderful Dr. F.!! However. Even with stubborn determination, lots of support, plus college education preparation, I would not have succeeded!! How so? My learning disabilities would have stood in the way, like heavy brick wall barriers. So, instead, I write!! Yes, I write, expressing myself, and creating images with words!! Because doing so, to me, is like applying paint against some blank canvas. It's my "art" form. That being mentioned, I strive to "paint" readers' "pictures" with words which excite their imagination. Because everyone possesses an imagination!! I also strive to make readers' see, smell, touch, taste, and hear everything. Now. Sans sounding hubris, I consider myself an artsy, versatile writer. I can compose poetry. Write true stories. I can weave together fiction. Write my Life Story. I can create children's books. And I possess my own unique writing style!! I am a self-described "stay-at-home-dog-owner", which makes Rose the luckiest mutt in this world!! But I'm responsible, reliable, plus capable enough to hold down a job. And if I did? Would I be blessed with the opportunity to write? No. Chances are, I wouldn't find the time, between work, and caring for Rose!! Writing liberates my soul, plus brings me immense happiness, not to mention a sense of creative accomplishment!! And, based on research, if it were not for Dr. J.'s surgical skills, I would not even possess this gift!! I never attended college. Home School was challenging enough for me, what with my learning disabilities. And Mom is the world's best teacher!! Thus, I never wanted to attend college!! Never. Could I have, if I'd wanted to? Maybe. Maybe not. But, I happily did not attend college!! Perhaps sometimes I just want to stare up at the sky, shake my fist, and curse at craniosynostosis. But then again. We found God on behalf of this birth defect!! See, I was scheduled for yet a third "Cranio" reconstructive operation. But a co-worker at Dad's office invited him to church. Where my little body would be prayed for and healed. Mom and Dad attended this guy's church. I was prayed over. And we no longer needed Dr. J's skills!! Because God healed me!! Then, Mom and Dad became Christians!! When I am reminded of that true story, my attitude drastically changes. I feel humbled and grateful!! Craniosynostosis. My learning disabilities/premature short-term memory loss. It's a terrible curse. It's a terrible privilege.

Statistics, Statistics, Statistics

{Taken from my Life Story}

 One out of every 2,000 live births are affected by craniosynostosis. Yes, one out of every 2,000 live births. This neurological birth defect mostly affects male babies. I was one of them. A baby girl born with craniosynostosis. One out of every 2,500 live births are affected by congenital diaphragmatic hernias. Yes, one out of every 2,500 live births. Approximately 1,600 babies are born each year with C.D.H.. Yes, 1,600 babies. Only 10% of cases occur on the right side. Yes, 10%. And. Only approximately 50% of babies who are inflicted with C.D.H. live. Yes, 50%. I was one of them. A right-sided (At least that's where my abdomen scar is located!!) C.D.H. survivor. One to three in 1,000 people worldwide are affected by Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome. Yes, one to three in 1,000 people worldwide. You know what? As a self-described "journalist at heart", I love, love, love statistics!! Yes, I am literally fascinated by them!! How befitting that I would fall among such insane statistics.

Tuesday, August 6th, 2013. What an eventful date that turned out to be for me!! My sutures were removed.... By Mom!! She has taken out stitches before!! It actually stung a bit as she gingerly pulled them through!! Me, the "Cranio" person with a freakishly hard skull felt it!! Weird. But, then again. It was actually a positive that those sutures being pulled out stung. How so? Because the thread just had to match my hair color!! {Mom accidentally pulled out a strand!! Whoops.} The strangest part about Mom removing my sutures? I never bled!! See, twain concepts are always liable to occur with me. I scar. And I bleed. Anyway. Something else eventful occurred on Tuesday, August 6th. I received my test results!! It isn't at all what anybody had in mind. Not surprising!! It is a rare form of acne which only effects the scalp. I do not know its statistics, although I'd love, love, love to learn them. Because, apparently, the dermatologists don't see this form of acne very often!! Hence my beginning today's Blog post with craniosynostosis, C.D.H, and W.P.W.'s statistics!! I have a rare form of acne. Rare. Story of my life!! Now, this "one step forward, two steps back" flawed personality type who suffers from premature short-term memory loss has been prescribed some pill to swallow twice daily. I work against that character defect. Being a "one step forward, two steps back" flawed personality type. However. I keep waiting for the one time when my stupid mind forgets to take a pill!! {Which almost occurred last night!!} Yes, I am just waiting to mess up. Oh, and I cannot eat any dairy near the timeline when I swallow my medication. I have German flowing proudly within my blood!! Do you have any idea how much dairy I ingest? Cheese. Yogurt. Cheese. Butter. Cheese. Eggs. Cheese. Milk on cereal. Cheese. Ice cream. Cheese. Chocolate milk. Cheese. Milk chocolate. Did I mention cheese?! I have become one of those annoying {No offense!!} people with "food issues"!! Really?! Wasn't I a pain in the ass enough, already?! {Proud of it, babe!!} Well. Apparently not!! But. It could always be worse, I suppose. I am not suddenly lactose intolerant. I can still consume dairy. Just not until about an hour or so after swallowing a pill. And right now, every chance I get, something dairy is voluntarily being shoveled into my mouth.... It is my latest addiction!! Take that, acne!!

 

On an unrelated note. Remember Mikey, my little Kindred Spirit "Cranio" Buddy? Well, I have been granted a unique opportunity to correspond via e-mail exchange with his Mom!! Pretty neat, huh? After much consideration, {Because I never make rash decisions.} I sent her a letter yesterday!! Wow. In an effort to keep Rose on Beautifully Unique, please my Blogville Friends who like photos, and show this new "e-mail-pal" what I look like. A picture!!

 

    

Smile!!

I never post on Saturday. However. An adorable little Dachshund Blogging Friend named Nola "told" me that our Golden Retriever pal, Sugar, is celebrating a birthday!! Wow!! Birthdays are meant to be celebrated, especially when you're a canine whose life expectancy is never nearly long enough!! Correct? Happy, happy, happy birthday, Sugar. Here's to many, many, many more. Now. We are supposed to post a picture of our smiles. However. I will "Go for broke and exempt all clichés if possible". I'll also post the lyrics to "Smile"!!

 

    

Smile, though your heart is aching
Smile even though its breaking
When there are clouds in the sky,
You`ll get by
If you smile,
Through your fear and sorrow
Smile, and maybe tomorrow
You`ll see the sun come shining through
For you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear
May be ever so near
That`s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what`s the use of crying
You`ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile.

 

{I need another song about smiling. But I like this one!!}

 

Happy birthday, Friend!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Superpowers

Blogging Friends.... Well, I "disappeared off the face of the planet", as that phrase goes, for about one week. And I can explain. See, after setting it aside for one month, I decided to reread my Life Story. Yes, again. This whole editing thing is becoming so easy.... And actually enjoyable!! Now. Lest anybody wonder. Those who I am in close proximity to still have not read it!! For some reason, this Project feels like my Baby, which I've worked very, very, very hard on. Considering the concept of revealing it sends me into anxiety attack mode!! But time is ticking away, and I must overcome this issue!! Now. While on the subject of my Life Story. I have reached a difficult decision that it will not become published. Only very, very, very close friends and family will read my Life Story. This, unfortunately, excludes all of you, dear Blogging Friends. I am sorry. If I ever got any of your hopes up that you would be able to read it, I repeat. I am sorry. However. I am now addicted to Writing Projects!! Thus, more shall come!! And, although I cannot promise anything, perhaps you will be able to read future projects. But again. I cannot promise anything.

 

Superpowers. It has reached my conclusion that everybody possesses them. Not just children with "special needs". But everybody. Especially unlikely superheroes, which we all know are the very best kind!! {Such as Iron Man!!} Everybody possesses superpowers. The other day, I was visiting Robyn's Website when she featured twain brothers, one of which has autism. And Robyn referred to that learning difference as a "superpower". I like that!! Then, I got to wondering. Since I had just finally recovered from last month's series of mood swing-infused pity parties, and was--again!!--feeling vulnerable, what are my superpowers? Because, come on. I needed a confidence boost!! Well.... Attention deficit disorder comes to mind immediately. I can literally turn some switch off within my head and block out anything which I'm not supposed to hear. Example. One evening, my Dad--a church Elder at the time--was having some Top Secret meeting in our great room. As resulted, we were all hiding away, either watching television, or reading. My throat felt thirsty, thus I needed to walk into our kitchen.... Where I could have easily eavesdropped. But I didn't. Because I flipped that switch within my head, and could not hear a thing!! This superpower comes in great handy as well, whenever I am mentally avoiding something emotional. But what about my freakishly hard "Cranio" skull? Does that qualify as being a superpower? I can fall headfirst out of our old Chevy suburban, and the only physical result is bleeding a lot. {True story!!} Yes, I successfully evaded any concussions or amnesia!! I just became crazier!! Thus, possessing an unusually hard "Cranio" skull is a superpower!! What about the very fact that I am both hard to kill and hard to break? Huh? Both have been repeatedly proven over the course of my life, the latter more frequently. Being hard to kill and hard to break is a superpower!! You know what? I pride myself in each and every one of these so-called "superpowers". Then, there is my premature short-term memory loss. Does that qualify as being a superpower? My premature short-term memory loss. That learning disability which I wish was not part of me. A superpower? Well.... Because of my premature short-term memory loss, I forgive easily. How? Because I forget everybody's wrongdoings against me!! Plus, I can relate to older, wiser, more experienced individuals. Because neither of us remember commonplace things!! So, does my premature short-term memory loss qualify? Yes, I suppose it does!! Everybody possesses superpowers.

 

What are yours?

 

 

Pushin' Thirty

Blogging Friends.... Thank-you for your comments on Mikey's story!! Life has such an ironic sense of humor that it keeps me "in stitches"!! {This is a pun, by the way. Which I will explain later!!} Remember my "snake skin" bald spot that I wrote about a while back? Well. We drove to the dermatologist's just the other day for a needle biopsy. See, nobody really knows how I lost my hair in the first place. They have two suspicions, however. And we would like to know what has caused it. {Disclaimer. For those reading this who are squeamish about medical stories which involve needles and blood, you may skip down!!} Anyway. First, they injected a needle filled with numbing medication into my scalp near the snake skin bald spot. Now. Having been born with craniosynostosis, I possess a freakishly hard skull, plus being an oddball, I do not mind needles. Thus I wasn't in the least bit concerned!! Everybody warned me that it would be uncomfortable. Plus. The medication would provide me with a burning sensation. I closed my eyes in relaxation, preparing for pain. And I felt.... Nothing!! No pain. No burning. Nothing!! Not surprising. I did, however feel their needle pop off beforehand. I felt its medicine drip onto my right arm as resulted. Whoops. And I felt half of my face slowly become numb. But it was pain-free!! I do not think that they have ever injected a "Cranio" person before!! Because she called me "an awesome patient"!! What did they expect? That I would transform into The Incredible Hulk and punch everybody out as resulted to it being so painful? This here skull of mine has been surgically cut open not once, but twice. A needle injection? Phishaw!! They then took a minuscule "cookie cutter" and punched a bit of my skin off. I oozed blood. Not surprising. Then, they stitched up that minuscule-sized area. I now have sutures on my head for the first time since Dr. J. reconstructed it because of the craniosynostosis!! Back to my pun. Life has such an ironic sense of humor that it keeps me "in stitches"!! Who would have thought. The day I reposted Mikey's story, that I'd need sutures on my head? Who would have thought?

 

"You know, I've got a cluster of shrapnel, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart. This stops it. This little circle of light. It's part of me now, not just armor. It's a... terrible privilege.". --Tony Stark.

 

My dear Blogging Friends, do you remember when this very line in the action-packed Blockbuster superhero film profoundly impacted me? It was on May 4th, 2012. Tony Stark/Iron Man/Robert Downey Jr. virtually grabbed me for no explanation other than the fact that I am an oddball. Oddball to oddball. Do you remember? Good. Because for one and a half weeks, somewhere along the way, this "one step forward, two steps back" flawed personality-type lost complete sight of Tony Stark's message. For one and a half weeks, somewhere along the way, I forgot everything which God has taught me through my unlikely inspiration. I am not certain how it occurred, exactly. Perhaps because I suffer mightily from premature short-term memory loss? Excuses, excuses. For one and a half weeks, I struggled mightily with being different, and battled--hard!!--against mood swing-infused pity parties. See. I put up a good fight, as--metaphorically speaking--this "active volcano" stood strong and silent for quite some time!! Even my Mom noticed. So. I was prolifically writing in my Word document journal. At times I fought back tears. I half-seriously considered meditation. And I mentally avoided as much of what might trigger an emotional breakdown as possible. {Thank-you, attention deficit disorder!! I love you!!} Question. Is it common for somebody to be pitched a "pushin' thirty" funk? Because I was. See, over six months ago, I turned 29. But I wanted to be thirty. Yes, I wanted to be thirty!! For the "big 3-0" sounded like a novelty and an adventure. Fast forward to June. This girl who I grew up with just got married. And to top that off with an enormous juicy cherry of envy. My sister is embarking on a cosmic life-altering endeavor. But. Oh, what am I doing with my life? Why must I always feel left behind, this learning disabled person? What am I not doing with my life? And, for one and a half weeks, I felt as though it lacked purpose. My life. It lacked meaning and direction. See, I thought that by now I'd be married with at least six children {I always wanted five!!} So many of my dreams have been shattered like broken liquor bottles on some city street. They are completely unobtainable. I can't be a mother because, well, I'm not married. {That would help with the reproduction process, right?} I could never find a career like our wonderful pediatrician, Dr. F., since I'm not nearly intelligent or ambitious enough. But you know what? Metaphorically speaking, I am a hardboiled egg. Ever notice how challenging they are to break? You can crack a hardboiled egg. But it is a lot of freakin' hard work to actually break its shell as you peel and peel and peel!! I am a hardboiled egg. I can crack, and I always eventually do. But I am hard to break!! Well. I "cracked", and then spent all last weekend finally allowing the tears to fall. Finally. Then, an interesting thing occurred. I gained perspective. I grew. I learned. It was as though standing strong and avoiding emotions/feelings kept a door which leads toward perspective shut tight. Once I allowed tears to stream down my cheeks, that door opened. So. Perhaps the occasional mood swing-infused pity party is healthy for my heart and soul....? Perhaps.    

 

"You know, I've got a cluster of shrapnel, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart. This stops it. This little circle of light. It's part of me now, not just armor. It's a... terrible privilege.". --Tony Stark.

 

May I never again forget this line's impact on my life. Because pushin' thirty? That sounds exciting again!!