my story

Story Prompt – Tooth

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Today’s weekly story prompt is hosted by Sunday Scribblings with peckapalooza The Confusing Middle and it’s …

Tooth

I can’t even begin to tell you how much I don’t want to talk about this subject. Considering that thought, I’m a little shocked myself. Since Wednesday, when this topic was announced I’ve been thinking about what I’d say and really, the conversation in my head wasn’t all that emotional. Guess I was wrong about just how hot this hot button issue is for me.

I’m not much of a believer in coincidence. Maybe the truth is, I need to talk about this subject more than I think I do. Blow off a little steam. That would be helpful. I’ve only been upset about this for five years. Tuesday could be the unexpected resolution to a long standing problem. Things would probably go better if I wasn’t an emotional mess about this.

The dispute with the dentist five years ago was over differing opinions on tooth removal. I was told it would be unethical.

I’m a woman, it’s my body. An abortion would not be considered unethical (if I wanted one, which I don’t) so why would having all my teeth pulled be considered unethical? Pulling teeth over taking a life? Makes no sense to me.

Of course I did what I always do when I’m boiling mad. Cried. And that made me even madder. Still does. If I had the ability to stomp my feet, shout, and create a scene, maybe things would have gone my way but I don’t and they didn’t.

They said unethical but I think the term was used as a smoke screen. Pulling my teeth would be like killing the cow. Fiscally, not a good move for them. Well, they may as well have pulled them because I haven’t been back.

In their arrogance they wouldn’t listen to me and figured they knew best. I’ve lived with my teeth for a lot of years and spent untold money, and hours, in the dentist chair. The rate of deterioration had increased dramatically and I could see the writing on the wall. Between money and pain, it was no longer worth it. On top of that, almost half of my teeth were already gone anyway, let’s just do it all and be done.

Since aggression was out, I did the only thing I could do, nothing. I figured if I let things take their natural course without remedy, someone would eventually look in my mouth and agree with my assessment. Mind you, I’m not sure how that would happen since I haven’t looked for a new dentist (what’s the point, they would probably agree with the other guy.) I have to say the damage in the last five years has been significant – cavities, broken teeth, large fillings gone, teeth starting to lean over.

Here’s the reason I think the end for this issue may be near, finally.

I’ve recently been to a doctor (as opposed to the Dr dentist) for the first time in ten years. Doctors taking patients are not easy to find these days and to be honest, I was in no hurry to see one. In the course of the getting-to-know-you section of the visit I showed him my issues with a chronic skin condition. I assumed it was a psoriasis (looked like it to me) which is about impossible to get rid of. It seems now it could be something else. Related to my mouth. They will do a biopsy on Tuesday to make a conclusive diagnosis. If it is connected to my mouth maybe that’s my ticket out of here. (at least, for my teeth, not me)

My only reason for wanting to see a doctor was a routine check up, I had no identifiable health issues, aside from getting old. I’ve been praying and stressing over my teeth for a long time, maybe this unusual route is the answer to all of that. I sure hope so.

I have to say, Tooth was an excellent choice for today’s theme. I feel so much better now, after getting all this off my chest.

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It was interesting how this whole doctor thing came about.

I’ve lived here eight years now without one. They have a doctor finder thing you can sign up for, which I did, and every few months they send an email saying they haven’t found anything but they will keep trying. I wanted local and they are scarce in my area.

Anyway, my kids were stressing a little over how long it’s been since I’ve seen anyone and they were worried. They had reason to be, my son-in-law’s father suddenly died recently from an undiagnosed problem with his heart.

I’ve been feeling a little punky for a while now but it’s no big deal, pretty nebulous really. I prayed, Lord, do I need to see a doctor? A few days later I received the regular email telling me the usual, no doctor – we will keep trying, and a day after that the Doctor Finder fellow called me saying there were doctors available in my area. In short order I had an appointment.

With the initial history taking and assessment he was very pleased, figuring my risk factors for major disease were very low. I left there thinking Lord, if I needed to see a doctor, why did nothing show up? I’d had blood work done and everything there looked normal. A week or so later the report came back in regard to the pictures sent to the dermatologist.

If that was the issue needing attention and my dental worries would finally be taken care of, I’d be a happy camper. I’m sure my overall health would improve too if the damaged teeth were out of there. Here’s hoping as we await the biopsy results.

I can’t say I’m thrilled with the idea of losing all my teeth but it won’t be the end of the world. Like a tree that bends in the wind, I will adapt.

It isn’t that I can’t, it’s that I can’t.

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This is one of those just say something kind of days. You know, those days when it’s time to write a post and you have nothing.

So, this title is the thought that’s been rolling around in my head all day. It’s entirely true, and to my mind, it’s hilarious. I love a good play on words.

Probably the reason why this idea is lodged securely in my mind, like a silly song that stays with you all day, is because I lived it over the weekend.

Saturday afternoon was the time for our regular monthly writer’s group. We take turns chairing the meeting and February was supposed to be my turn. It’s bad enough when we meet in person and I can look around the table to see everyone; make it a Zoom meeting and it is confusing and worse. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do a good job and decided to look for a fill-in. I felt the group deserved to have a better experience than I could give them.

Some time after arranging my replacement I read and enjoyed a book featured in a previous blog post here. This added a new element to the meeting as I shared my enjoyment with the rest of the executive. With the help of several of our group members who knew her personally, I was able to contact the author. She would love to read an excerpt for us from her short story. Once this was all settled the agenda came out for the meeting and I was surprised to find I was still on it. In a smaller capacity but still. No one said a word, they just snuck it in there.

It all worked out ok. I was ready with my part mapped out in my head and it went smoothly. Probably because concern for my newly assigned task overshadowed every other worry.

In the end, I had the ability. It wasn’t like I couldn’t do it before but now I could.

The best way to describe why I couldn’t do it would be disability. Something crippling my ability

At this point I can hear one of our best writers saying “when you make statements like that I want to hear details”

I can tell you that I have complex PTSD from ongoing childhood abuse. It started before I was born and ended when I was twelve. I can’t give you details because I don’t have memories. They talk about abuse victims compartmentalizing as a coping mechanism. That’s what my mind did. Ninety-eight percent of my childhood memories are locked in a sealed vault and even though I’ve given myself permission to bring some of them out, for the most part, it’s not happening. I was describing it to my daughter the other day, It’s like watching a room with small windows… every now and then a shadow goes past. That’s the extent of it.

I’ve been in heavy denial about all of this for most of my life. Up until about fifteen years ago when one of my brothers insisted that I own it and admit the truth. This admission was the beginning of a new dimension in my healing journey

One discovery along the way was this: My disability comes not from memories but from triggers rising out of memories buried deep inside me. The deep place that will never forget.

In the past I refused to even think about the shadowy memories I did have.

It turned out there was a better way. I could stop and examine the shadows. Ask questions. Try to understand family dynamics and recognize what was behind abusive actions. There were many well-that-explains-a-lot moments once I allowed myself to question, to take a honest look.

So, I guess the question is, how does this affect my ability to do or not to do? It’s this way… my survival response is to shut down.

Freeze. Panic attacks.

I’ve had many theories about why this is.

A break through moment tells me it’s all about feeling safe.

Why don’t I feel safe? Honestly, aside from rooted in old memories, I have no idea.

I think it will take more than my lifetime to heal from this.

Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. At least I’m making progress.

Maybe can’t could even turn into can someday.

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One thing I know for sure, I’m not alone on this journey. Many others walk a similar path.

Sharing our stories is an effective way to add support to our fellow travelers.

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I will admit this started with a light heart but didn’t end that way. That’s not a bad thing. Honesty is the good thing.

Thoughts running through my mind.

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There is one thought running through my mind at this moment. It’s not new, I’ve been visiting variations of this thought off and on for awhile now. This morning it took a different turn and I feel like I need to explore it.

I’ve been judiciously watching many news type podcasts lately. Judiciously, because my mental and emotional health is in trouble if I don’t.

With limited exposure I can’t be quoted on who thinks what or what they plan to do about it if they think it. I am no expert on any of it.

I hear snippets. That’s kind of what started my thinking this morning. Putting two and two together, forming an idea. My idea.

The world is a complicated place, always has been. We think a certain action will gain a certain result but it never holds true with humans. For every expected reaction it is possible there will be an unexpected reaction. Maybe not in equal number as, hopefully, good reactions will outweigh the not-so-good ones. Besides, in the course of your lifetime have you ever seen unanimous agreement happen more than once or twice? Never is more likely.

I’m saying all this to acknowledge the exceptions. What makes one person strong destroys another and it hurts when things go badly.

So, getting back to my original train of thought.

The last few days I’ve heard news people using the term Reset. A Global Reset. I didn’t stick around long enough to hear much but I can imagine what they were thinking and planning. My whole life, I have been hearing about one world government and it is a scary thought. It always sounded like the forces wanting to form this government did not have our best interests at heart. It was all about need for power.

At the beginning of the covid pandemic, watching the way life was changing for all of us, I was thinking reset too. I wasn’t alone with this observation, I’ve heard many others express the same idea.

As a society, life has been easy for us in so many ways and we have become used to taking it for granted, that’s one part.

The other part is disconnectedness. Electronic devices, and all facets of them, have consumed us and our time. We have become isolated from one another in real time. We share physical spaces, yet we are like ships passing in the night. Each living a life in solitary.

Covid has changed all of this. Isolation of a different sort has forced us together for prolonged periods of time. We are discovering in-person relationships, some for the first time. Most, but not all, are thriving and life is enriched with good experiences, making new memories and connections to last a lifetime.

Then there is the hardship of restrictions and the downturn on the economic side. We’ve lost many of the things we took for granted. It’s been a year and life does not look like it will be going back to normal anytime soon. In fact whatever it goes back to is guaranteed to look quite different after all this time. Necessity with all it’s changes will have made going back impossible.

Considering all of this, I view reset as involving our priorities, values, and connections. And it would be a good thing. I think we will be a stronger people for having survived this storm. We will develop a protective awareness we didn’t have before. We were caught by surprise with covid but we won’t be as unaware as we would have been, if it happened again.

If it turns out the World Reset attempt is a reality we will be better equipped to survive, having lived through the personal reset. And if the World Reset never comes, we will still be in a better position to thrive and survive life in general.

In the end, I think the most important reset will be personal. There is no denying … we are already a much stronger people because of it. It’s not over yet, just think of where we will be, strength-wise, a year from now.

This is what I’m thinking today.

As I reach this point in the discussion I find this thought pattern gives me hope.

I’m also pretty sure this won’t be the last time I think about all this.

Story prompt – Compliment

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I must compliment you both. It’s inspiring the way you complement one another.

Compliments are amazing things, often underestimated, I think.

It seems, if some of the stories I’ve read are to be believed, there are segments of society reluctant to give compliments because they are thought to encourage pride. Then there are other segments who are just plain mean and abusive. Not only do they not give compliments, they pile on the insults.

I love stories where a kind heart recognizes worth and goes to great lengths to promote healthy self-esteem in the down trodden.

There is a popular old story I’ve never forgotten. A young farmer was looking for a wife. He picked a young woman, shy and insecure, with literally no marriage prospects. The village people could not understand his choice, in their estimation she had nothing to offer as a farmer’s wife.

The going bride price was two cows. He chose to pay double that. Four cows was unheard of, never mind for a wife with so few talents to recommend her.

He took her home, treated her like a precious treasure and over time she blossomed to became all he knew she could be.

Compliments are powerful and for us to blossom we need them as much as we need food and water. At least that’s what I think.

Then there is complement. (to make complete)

How many stories have I read lately where the author pairs characters because they complement each other. The restaurant owner who is an awesome chef and a hopeless bookkeeper. The female ranch owner struggling with endless heavy chores requiring a man’s strength. Or even the one tasked with jobs requiring two or more people to meet deadlines. How many of us would kill ourselves trying before we would ever reach out.

It’s not easy admitting we need help. I know I struggle with that. Last summer I chose to fight to prune small trees myself rather than ask. My neighbor who is taller, heavier, stronger, (never mind younger) would have gladly helped.

In stories there is often a stubborn character who will not ask or even allow someone to help. Of course, one of the requirements of a good novel is tension and stubborn provides that in spades. By the end, though, they are working together and life is rosy.

It happens that way in real life too if we let it. We’re better together. Especially when our talents complement one another.

I like these two words.

The same only different.

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Story Prompt is hosted by Sunday Scribblings

What to say…

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I’m at a loss for words. After missing several days in my daily blog I need to find something to say. I’m feeling emotionally wrung out, maybe that’s why my mind is empty. I’ll just have to start and see what happens. It will surprise me as much as it will you, guaranteed. It’s funny how one thing leads to another and rabbit holes appear out of nowhere…

Today was the day for our monthly writers group Zoom call. Since I’m part of the executive there is always a feeling of self inflicted pressure to be a good participant not just a passive observer. As an introvert, fly-on-the-wall is where I would rather be. I was trying to be rested and relaxed ready for the camera but it wasn’t working out all that well for me. I started out stressed, like it or not.

Going into the week, I didn’t have an active part in the meeting. That all changed when the agenda came out and I found I was down for a book review. In the end we had more than enough readers (to share stories that would be critiqued) and there was no time for the my contribution. It didn’t get used but it was good writing practice, working on the review was not a total waste.

It’s funny how things happen sometimes. I had been thinking several days ago about my style of writing and the type of critique I would like to have. The thing is, I’m often not sure if what I have to say makes sense. Feedback would be helpful. I think I assume people know certain things already and tend to write in note form with little detail. My first clue I do this is when, days later, I read what I’ve written. Sometimes I have no idea what exactly I was getting at. So, going back to the most recent review I’d posted I found myself with a chance to work on making sense.

The review definitely needed to be reworked and expanded. It was a good exercise in figuring out how much extra detail needed to be included. I’ll try to do better the next time I write something like a review or thoughts (like now maybe.)

So, getting back to today’s Zoom meeting. It did the heart good to see everyone again even though we couldn’t be in the same room together. Five members read their stories, each one personal and unique.

They were all good but the one I appreciated most tore us all apart. It was a very raw and real sharing of a lengthy journey with parkinsons. What she has been through, and will continue to go through, is heartbreaking. Yet she has such a positive outlook on life. We could see it cost her dearly to be honest with us. We felt honored to be trusted enough for the privilege of hearing her story.

Today was a day we will not soon forget.

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I’m going to pick up a fast food hamburger and then the mail (it’s been several weeks and I need to get out.) When I come back I’ll see if this still makes sense to me.

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Well, I’ve made changes. I’m not sure it’s enough but time’s getting away on me. At least I’ve finished supper, washed the pile of dishes waiting for me and played a few games on the computer while I was thinking.

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Tomorrow is story prompt day. The word is Resolution. Guess I’m not done thinking for the night quite yet.

A favorite episode from a favorite podcaster

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I just have to share this podcast episode. I love it, it makes so much sense.

Patrick Lencioni on How to Discover Your Working Genius

There are two reasons:

Carey Nieuwhof has a gift for asking insightful questions and then listening intently with great follow-up questions. It seems every interview ends with him saying this has been so good. And it has been, every time.

Today’s topic is about giftings in relation to work life. This is one of my favorite topics in the world and it has been for decades. Not just for work but life in general. The more I understand about myself and others the better life goes for me. Today focuses on work life and it makes so much sense.

If you want to know more, Patrick Lencioni has a website with testing material available and he is even offering a discounted price on orders resulting from this podcast. I’ll let him give you the details at the end of the podcast.

So here it is: I hope you find it as helpful and I did.

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Story Prompt – Houseplants

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Houseplants

Many of my best memories are attached to houseplants. I can’t say that I am a plant lover but I loved the ones I had because of where they came from.

Growing up we had outside plants. Flower beds and vegetable gardens. We probably would have had houseplants if there was a place to put them. I was ok with no houseplants. We had cats and dogs, that was enough.

Living on my own with my first job, I didn’t have plants or animals. I was ok with it.

Things changed with the addition of a father-in-law.

Most of Dad’s life his family was in the nursery business, he loved plants. The climate was mild where they lived and they were able to grow things in their greenhouses year round. Eventually they became florists as well. They had the flowers so why not. By the time I met him he had scaled back on greenhouses and was buying plants for the flower shop from other growers.

He had this idea that everyone needed plants and he took pleasure in providing them. Whenever he came our way on a buying trip, well, we became the proud owners of new plants. There was no question in his mind that we needed and wanted them, which was pretty funny really, and very sweet.

He would even bring cut flowers occasionally, freesias were my favorite.

We moved many times over the course of the years and the plants always went with us. That is, if they were still alive and able to be moved. Our Fiscus fig tree eventually became too big and needed a new home. We had mixed emotions because Dad had given us the tree as a small plant and it had a lot of miles on it.

Looking at the plants spread through the house was always a reminder of the giver and the time and place. I think that was my favorite part about having plants. The memories.

Over the years, other people would bless us with cuttings from plants we admired. It was nice to have reminders. It seemed we were forever leaving friends behind with our many moves.

Eventually life happened and the plants all went by the wayside, for one reason or another. And then there were none, I was ok with it for a lot of years.

As happens sometimes, all good things must come to an end.

My neighbor had two large plants needing to be farmed out while she had long term house guests. Long term seems to have turned into forever. (I have tried to give them back, numerous times, I can’t argue with the fact I have more room than she does.)

A couple of summers ago I was on a long road trip where I visited with family friends. They have a menagerie of African violets and Spider plants and decided I needed to have some too. I wasn’t sure they would survive the long trip home but they did.

Since then I’ve gained several more plants from local family members.

Things have come full circle and once again I have a house full of reminders of folks who love to give me houseplants.

I love the reminders.

Story prompt was courtesy of Sunday Scribbling hosted by Peckapaloosa: The Confusing Middle

Boys turn into men

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It’s a sad/happy day for Grandma when her little boys grow up. Today was proof. The river of life moves on and things change. I can’t help feeling some sadness but thankfully that’s not all I feel. My daughter’s eldest passed his drivers test today and is now the proud owner of a new licence. I’m proud of him too.

Along with this news I heard a rumor, something about him taking over taxi duties for his younger brothers. His mother seems rather happy about this.

Of course, there have been signs long before now. Voices dropping to the lower ranges, Faces losing the boyish look. Taller, much taller. Then there’s the day of the last sleep over. You pop your head in to say good night and see him lounging on the bed. It’s a blow to the heart. This is a young man, he’s not a little boy any more.

There is something special about a relationship with a child. They are excited to stay at Grandma’s house. We play games, watch movies, have sleepovers lasting several days. Plan on hot dogs with macaroni and cheese. Sure… we can have pie for breakfast. Precious memories.

It’s funny how the view changes from mom to grandma. I didn’t lose much sleep when my own three were old enough to have drivers licences. I was counting my blessings having someone take over taxi duty.

I’m delighted to see my grandsons grow into awesome young men. There will be more good times, the memories will just be different. In fact they may even be better. Games will take on a whole new look when they actually understand the rules for play. There’s a good chance I may never win again. Hmmm. Maybe not better.

Of course it’s better.

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Connection – what is it?

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Two things are on my mind today.

It’s story prompt day and the word is Time. My last post talked about a New Years resolution which basically acknowledged it was Time for change. The definition for connection (in relation to my friendship resolution) has been on my mind recently so I’m going to combine the two thoughts. To quote a blogger friend ” it’s my blog and I can do what I like” so I guess he won’t complain about my unusual treatment of his prompt.

The whole concept of connection has been percolating in my mind and heart for decades. Through the years many marriage related books found their way into our home but the first solid memory of a discussion centered on connection was a radio program called Love, Sex, and Relationships, with pastors John and Helen Burns. They had many good, practical things to say but one phrase standing out above all the rest was into-me-see. Connection requires intimacy and intimacy in practical terms is defined as into-me-see. Eyes without shutters are crucial.

Our first thought of intimacy is physical in relation to a significant other. In reality it is not physical and applies to every type of relationship. If we’ve built walls of protection, generally speaking, they will apply to all of our relationships to one degree or another.

By John and Helen Burns (and many other’s) definition into-me-see only happens through the eyes, the windows of our souls, the keeper of our secrets. Without the eyes there is no connection. I do know this. I wish I didn’t. (with a good relationship I would also have known this and been glad I did.) Physical intimacy becomes intimate on a whole new level when the eyes meet and hold.

The good news is that varying degrees of connection can be found in varying types of relationships. This is encouraging since we are made for connection. We shrivel without having it on some level and since many of us remain single it’s nice to know friends and acquaintances can fill the void. That will be the challenge.

Friends is where we most often encounter walls still firmly in place. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately in my quest to leave my hermitage behind. Connection is difficult to find. Friendships on a superficial level are easy. I have a number of friends who are willing and even eager to hear the details of my broken life but, it’s a one way street with little-to-no reciprocation. There is a lack of satisfaction in these friendships and I’ve been mediating on why that is. I recognize deep hurts they aren’t willing to share. Is it the not sharing that bothers me most?

No. It seems I’m good with people not telling me their story. It’s the walls that are the problem. Up or down, there is a different vibe. Walls-down there is a softness with approachability, walls-up there is a harshness with keep out signs. It’s harshness I find myself most often responding to.

I can remember how hard it was to let people in. I can also remember what a freeing experience it was and continues to be. I’ve learned that lowering my walls doesn’t mean I have to tell all to everyone. I can use discretion. The important thing is, it may only be one person I tell but I’ve stopped keeping secrets.

I don’t think I’m all that different from anyone else. We all need connection. Many of us have walls we struggle to bring down. It is not easy to find a good friend.

My New Years resolution: it’s time to be proactive with maintaining neglected friendships and make myself available for new ones. It’s time to stop hiding. Covid and it’s restrictions have caused a deeper need for connection. It takes more work under these conditions to find it.

Only time will tell how well I do with my resolution and whether or not I’m successful at finding connection.