Holding out Hope

There comes a point in life where you realize that if you are unhappy, then sitting around and talking about it isn't going to get you anywhere. This place is becoming more dangerous all the time due to our proximity to the border, and I no longer feel it is a safe place to raise our children. I once thought I could get through anything with a local support system in place but as my physical progression continued it apparently was too much to handle because our church family slowly but surely disappeared. It angers me all the more since those with leadership positions who teach various classes related to Christianity and becoming a contagious Christian seem to be exempt from following what is taught. So now they are gone, I can't work so that connection is gone, and DH no longer works for the state. The lawsuit will continue no matter where we are.

At this point I think we would take a job nearly anywhere. I love our house here, the big foreclosure we got for a steal 2 1/2 years ago. But I'd give it up in a heartbeat to get out of this place, to go somewhere where we don't have to go through painful feelings just because of living in such a small neighborhood and everywhere you pass by makes you think of those people and what has been done.

Sticking my neck out

I've been hearing from people about my post below. I know it's bad that people who know nothing about spinal cords are asking what's going to be gone because surely it can't be left like that, right? Well folks I wish I had an answer. We know it's dangerous. Vertebrae shouldn't develop a sharp point, and that point shouldn't shove into the esophagus. We know now it's why I'm always a bit hoarse and have to clear my throat a lot, and why my voice breaks when I talk. As if being in a car isn't fearful enough, now we add this. A fender bender to most people is little more than an annoyance, when they come right down to it; to me it can easily be fatal because of the Ehlers-Danlos. Now did someone, the Devil, I don't know, add just one more thing to threaten life, seeing if I can be pushed right on over the edge? I'm getting darn close. No one wants to go fix anything because I'm such a liability. I'm a very scary person, you know. I ruin surgical statistics with the bat of an eye!

Anyway, I'm having a small procedure in a couple weeks, on the 28th. Thankfully it's at 10 a.m. so I won't have a tremendous time to go without eating or drinking, as I can't have either in the 4 hours prior. Ugh. Nerves alread. I am grateful to Jackie as she's coming along. It's 3:30 a.m., time to get my 1-2 hours.

Some birthday gift. Yep, it's being done on my birthday. But hey if it turns out great, I don't care WHAT day it's done on!

My service dog

Shelby has taken to jumping onto my recliner and trying to get as much into my lap as possible, not easy for a 52 pound dog. She does this while being very clingy, as she can tell when things are going to be rough with the seizures. It's like she wants me to stay right there in the nice big padded recliner, and not try to go do something. So, she pins me to the chair.

And with this great big Shelby smile, how can I possibly mind? She is a darling girl, and so smart but that's a given for a service dog!



Here she is, posing real quick before settling into her seizure-precursor spot--on the recliner at my feet.



The disability VanTran service will pick me up, along with Shelby of course, and take us to and from our HandiDog training classes. How great is that? I have a feeling the wheelchair lift is going to scare her. But we'll take it all one step/wheel at a time and we will get there!