Issues – Restrictions – blah, blah, blah


It’s Thursday, and I’m back to silence from the lawyers, while getting a whole bunch of documentation that I must read through and acknowledge about not posting to social media, not volunteering, etc.

Basically, I can sit and breathe and that’s it.

So, I’m here less and less for the foreseeable future, as the lawyer thinks any kind of challenges to his edicts are rebellion vs. an open dialog.

Hope you’re all doing well.  I’ll be back to chronicle my COPD fight as time permits.

Testing follow-up


Still don’t know if my Disability will be approved for long term status based on yesterday’s test – on what appeared to be a 1960’s era machine – but I got through the test, which is half the battle.

However, my employer continues to remain silent after Friday’s frustrating conversation, (they want me to quit, so I continue to sit and wait, trying to keep busy), while the wheels of bureaucracy spin at their maddeningly slow pace.

The talk therapy right after the test was interesting, as the Doc had thrown out a question after our last session, right as it was ending, which stuck like a burr under my saddle all month. “You’re very angry, aren’t you?”

So we picked up the conversation where we left off, with my agreeing that I was but also offering the challenge back: “Does it matter?” and, “Do you see it as self-destructive?”

Since talking to the lawyer and my employer last week, I’ve put that anger to productive use, working in the garden, planting tomatoes, trimming back rose bushes, and scrubbing out the oven. I was taught to work off my anger or use it as a motivator to accomplish a task, as turned inward, it only leads to self-harm through depression and/or despair. I can’t change my birth defect’s impact on my life, but I can manage how I react to it, ensuring that I focus my energies outward, to exhaust myself while finding a way to keep busy and motivated to enjoy life despite the challenges. And all without triggering a COPD exacerbation.

Don’t know if the talk therapy is doing me any good or not, but it’s not hurting me. And, it’s one of the doctor roster recommendations they want to see on my team if I do move forward with stem cell therapy. So, I go. We talk. I cry (because I can’t always get the words out without the tears) and we move on.

Waiting to find out if I’m approved for long term disability, disapproved, or need more tests is going to take a couple of weeks. For now, I remain in limbo and my savings are holding out, so it’s ok. Some days, that’s the best you can hope for.

Pink, not P!nk


I’m not a soft and fuzzy person.

But, I try to learn from my short-comings and be less aggressive in dealing with others.  Ultimately, my goal is to learn and grow, and be more like the color pink vs. the artist and person, P!nk.


It’s not a slam, that I’m trying to be less like P!nk.  Believe me, in many ways, we are sisters from a different mother.  I get her sharp edges, and her me! Me! ME! demands.  I get it, and try to quiet that voice which tries to insist that it’s all about me.

Life isn’t.

Her first composition which reached out and grabbed me was one I’ll call, “I’m a hazard to myself”, even though the real title is, “Don’t let me get me”.  It’s the hazard line that struck true with me:

Never win first place, I don’t support the team
I can’t take direction and my socks are never clean
Teachers dated me, my parents hated me
I was always in a fight ’cause I can’t do nothin’ right

Everyday I fight a war against the mirror
I can’t take the person starin’ back at me
I’m a hazard to myself

Don’t let me get me, I’m my own worst enemy
It’s bad when you annoy yourself so irritating
Don’t wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else

I wanna be somebody else, yeah

L.A. told me, “You’ll be a pop star
All you have to change is everything you are”
Tired of being compared to damn Britney Spears
She’s so pretty, that just ain’t me

Doctor, doctor won’t you please prescribe me somethin’
A day in the life of someone else?
‘Cause I’m a hazard to myself

Don’t let me get me, I’m my own worst enemy
It’s bad when you annoy yourself so irritating
Don’t wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else

Don’t let me get me, I’m my own worst enemy
It’s bad when you annoy yourself so irritating
Don’t wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else

Doctor, doctor won’t you please prescribe me somethin’
A day in the life of someone else?
Don’t let me get me

Don’t let me get me, I’m my own worst enemy
It’s bad when you annoy yourself so irritating
Don’t wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else

That being said, though, it was her song, “Glitter in the Air”, that really resonated with me during the healing process for acknowledging my Daddy Dearest / relationship issues and trying to address them:

Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted?
Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face and said, “I just don’t care.”?

It’s only half past the point of no return
The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn
The thunder before the lightning and the breath before the phrase
“Have you ever felt this way?”

Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you’re not alone
Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?

It’s only half past the point of oblivion
The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run
The breath before the kiss, and the fear before the phrase
“Have you ever felt this way?”

La la la la la la la la

There you are,
Sitting in the garden,
Clutching my coffee,
Calling me sugar
You called me sugar

Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight?
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself will it ever get better than tonight?

He’s brought a lot into my life that I never wanted.  Never expected to want.  And which I’m fighting like h*ll to keep out, as my time to depart this world draws nearer and days without wellness become more commonplace.

Learning to trust others has never been easy for me.  I’ve burned a few pancakes in my time, but I found a good guy, and I’m trying not to screw it up because I’m afraid.

We are very different people.  We want different things from life, and I cannot or will not fit neatly into his expectations for a girlfriend.  I make it difficult.  For both of us.

Just as it was going pretty smoothly, about 2012, after dating for about 4 years, I screwed it up.  I blogged on another site about my restlessness with our real world situation, and was accused of saying something that I never said in my blog.  I may have implied it, as blogs are complicated things, but I never blamed him for my failings as I railed against where I was in life at that moment and with my level of restlessness and frustration.

While we made up and came back together in late 2014 (it took us about 2 years to get through the drama, as I wasn’t having a rehash of something he was offended by when I was trying to clear my thoughts), we had to agree to disagree about the source of our tension in order to move on and get back together again as friends.  As lovers.

Silly, but I’m a master at running away from things that I don’t want to face.  I did not want to have a difficult conversation about my needs, his needs, our mutual desires, my frustrating career, his frustrating career, and the physical distance between our two homes after he bought a home and moved further away.

So, we hooked back up, and have been back to trying to make it work in person and over the phone while life goes on around us.  My failing health.  His foster kids.  His aging mother.  His career frustration.  My inability to let him go or to be what I think he wants me to be for him.  His wish to replace all that he lost when the State took his business property by eminent domain, his marriage broke up from the strain, and he lost his home.  We are an Oscar and Felix kind of couple, with a 150 mile round trip between our two homes.

Oscar (me)                                                            vs.                     Felix (him)

old-lady-cartoon-21                          Throwback Male

He’s an amazingly talented, renaissance kind of guy.  Everything to be admired, including his ability to keep house like Martha Stewart (I’m more of a slob).  He sets his goals and he accomplishes them, all while keeping everything in its place.  13 years after the trauma, he’s purchased a new home.  He’s about to open a new business.  He’s got it all going together.  Me?  I’d have to say that I have a general outline, and I punt more.  Much more.

At this point, I don’t remember the point I was trying to make, but it’s something like this…  COPD is relentless, and I don’t want anybody compelled to feel that they must be standing around trying to help me as it gets closer to the end.  Yes, I’m just that stubborn. As out time together becomes less and less due to my exhaustion, I want him to know how much he means to me, even as I’m pushing him away.

Not sure why I feel the way I do, but I am trying to soften my edges to be more pink, all the while knowing that I am what I am, and I’m ok with that.



Ok, I bit the bullet


Being in the software industry, I understand about the value of paying for use.  Intellectual property is something that artists and creators have, and if you want to be paid, you have to value your own work appropriately.

You may give it away for free, but in order to be sustainable, you need to be paid for providing your services.

As my present to myself, and thanks largely in part to the help from the forum when my posts started disappearing, I’ve upgraded my membership for the basic monthly fee of $8.95 per month, or $99 paid in advance for a yearly membership.

Membership seems reasonable to me, as I’m marking my 8th month on my journey, spilling the beans on my battle with COPD and keeping my sanity during this journey.