A- MUSE-in Cover Revolt

A- MUSE-in Cover Revolt
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Saturday, August 10, 2013

When AGE is more than a three letter word!

I never thought the 

Day of Ignominy would come, again...and yet it's here. 

Truth be told it's been here since December 13th when I woke up and found I 

couldn't walk...

Nope...not total truth...I've had periods in the past when the spine just went on vacation leaving a boatload of pain behind, but never for this long.

Here it is August and I haven't been a day without some level of pain...usually moderate, but never less than that. 

Growing old is definitely not for the weak of constitution. 

I was telling a friend the other day that I think the 

constant pain in my spine from the discs and everywhere else from the RA starting to make me physically feel nauseous...which plugged in a 

light in my feeble brain...

Everyone is trying to get me to down anti-depressants...(have you heard the side-effects of these drugs? One is increased interest in committing suicide? How does that help LIFT me from my depressed state? Well I guess it WOULD permanent remove me from being depressed...wouldn't it?)

Back to topic...my recent doctor, the first to actually 

LOOK AT the multitude of MRIs, CT scans and X-Rays done on my person before blowing gobbledy 

smoke out his mouth, said I have a LOT wrong with my back...the spine being only one area, and he'd be surprised if I WASN'T a hurting puppy suffering a LOT of 

depression from the high level of pain. 

WOW someone who isn't trying to turn me into a blithering, head-banging 

basket case? 

Age...it's a pitiful place to find yourself after a lifetime of trying to rise above the pain and always stand upright.

Will I succeed? 

The last time I had to bite down on the bullet and force myself to get through the pain I was thirty one...thirty...yessiree...

thirty years ago. Do I have the stamina to trudge through another thirty years? 

Age is not for the weak...but am I strong enough to do this 


Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Growing Up

Seven months...in the overall scheme of things is not that long, but for me, the last seven months have seemed like an eternity.

I was never going to be rich, but with my daughter beside me, I'd learned the joy of contentment even though we managed to subsist on less than fifteen hundred a month.

Somehow despite the limits placed on us by such a small amount of income, we had saved whenever we wanted something outrageously expensive to us. Computers...yes we had two PCs and I'd managed to get Kat a notebook so she could stay on her bed and still do her writing where she'd remain safe should her brain decide to grab her in its seizure violence.

I'd also managed to get her another TV dedicated to her PS2. Our lives were "content"...and then we made the mistake of trusting people with an agenda we could not have fathomed until it was too late.

I suppose the technical term for them is "con-artists" Given the amounts others have lost to such people, I probably shouldn't be so hard on my foolishness...but after the life I'd lived I should have been con-artist proof...but always when they know the right buttons...how can one be con-artist proof?

She got to us through my daughter...treating her like the special and delightful young woman she is, but those who'd seen her seizures would not take the chance to get to know. (Some parents allowed their children to actually walk up to as she went about her business on her scooter in the stores and kick her while she traveled round wearing her soft helmet...a beacon showing she was "different.") Oddly her "difference" did not stop her from being a bit of a genius. I am the luckiest woman in the world because I get to share my world with her, but I see beyond the misfiring of her brain to the unique woman she is.

I don't know when she and her husband decided to destroy us...maybe it was when they learned of insurance policy. $100,000.00. Playing on my determination to make my daughter's life as comfortable as possible, they urged us to move down here. Here they promised, she could finally get the services I'd been trying hard to get her up there...unsuccessfully, and down here we'd have two drivers always available in case of emergencies and they'd take us wherever we needed to go and whenever we wanted to go. We could move in with them and pay no rent...after all they had a house one hundred percent paid off.

Air conditioning? (One of my daughter's worst seizure triggers is heat.) No problem they said...they had cetral air and ceiling fans in ever room. We would be a welcome relief for them to, because they have no one, since both her parent had died. Family. That's what we could all be for each other.

I forgot the first rule of life...if it sounds too good to be true it probably is. But I would have walked through a zillion beds of hot coals for my daughter...so we gave in burning all our bridges to move down here with them.

To say it didn't work out is quite an understatement...We were not told her husband has been diagnosed psychotic, nor were we told he has this love for things like guns and blow-guns. She also failed to tell us he's a pervert who like to "touch" you whether you want to be touched or not. (With our history the last thing we wanted was to be touched...something they both knew before we moved down.)

They also neglected to tell us they had twenty-one animals living in the house with them and the house was both filthy from her lack of cleaning it...even though she had a Dyson Pet vac with the roller.

Biting spiders, fleas, silverfish, geckos all lived inside the house with them. And with me having a hole in my left lung...breathing all that crap in would have killed me quickly...oh and once we actually got there, suddenly we were to pay them five hundred dollars a month to live in one small bedroom...and the scuzzy bathroom I had to sterilize when we first got there and was supposed to be ours, alone...we had to share with them...people who bathed only once in the two and a half months it took us to get the hell out of there.

They stole from us, though we can't prove it. We sent our precious few belongings we were able to keep through the mail, so we KNOW what we sent, and we KNOW what we saw in their storage locker, but they lied and told us they only found one box. Thousands of dollars of hard cover books, kitchen equipment, lamps, and more. Why they stole our stuff? We really don't know, but they did.

Bugs...there's no winter down here. We had a total of two days that got down to forty-three degree degrees, so bugs don't hibernate. Three grow to the size of mini-Sherman tanks and have hides stronger than anything the military has. Our kitties try to defend us, but these monsters fear nothing. Not even the Orkin man.

They mucked with our computers. The Netbook can't be used with MS Word. We don't know what they did, but they screwed with it quite effectively. My PC is nearing it's final days. Both of them mucked with it...and no I did not ask them to...but they do not require invitations...they just step in and do. Luckily, we have not seen or heard from them since, but do know there have been many new litters born...and now at learned 30 animals wallow in that filth. I don't know what the laws are here, but I can't imagine they'd allow that many animals in such conditions within the city limits.

She drives around with a magnetic sign attesting to them running what is basically a kennel in their home inside the city...hopefully someone will turn them in and bring those animals some peace. Until then, hell exists inside the confines of that cesspit and those two continue to lift their yardsticks and make those poor dogs run in fear and hide.