Monthly Archives: June 2013

Jun 26 2013
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Uncategorized

LOL Congress: Day 94

This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang, but with…Congress.

This partial T.S. Eliot excerpt (and fav Cards Against Humanity card) comes to mind after today’s email from my congressman’s assistant.

…it’s really tough to do legislation on this issue.  However, are you aware that there has been funding through SAMHSA for programming to try and reduce the stigma of mental health?  Perhaps you want to look into what that funding has been able to do and let me know whether you think that’s effective or whether possible changes might be made?

More importantly, are you aware of the initiative Makeitok.org? They are going to hold some pretty big events this fall-there are already ads up for them.

Best,
Liz

Here’s what I read:

It took me 94 days to make one phone call to NAMI and I only did that because you keep bugging me. Why don’t you do more research to keep yourself busy so I can avoid telling you ‘no’ since I want you to vote for my boss next time. 

For eff’ sake. I just want to replace the phrase MENTAL DEFECTIVES with a more humane word. I’m not trying to change what the law enacts. I just want to change a word. Why is this hard??

Well, since my very own congressman is a dead end, I’m really glad my friend’s mom works for Congressman C.  My friend’s sister has Bipolar Disorder and no doubt it raised her mom’s hackles at the idea of the federal law calling her kid mentally defective.

While, it may have been altruistic to assume that one of 18 my elected officials would have bitten at my shiny March 25 letter, I had to try.

Next time I’ll save myself the 94 days and postage.

Jun 17 2013
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renew

Bonjour Ben

A colleague lent to me her brother’s Fitbit.  For the first two weeks, it didn’t register the change from him to me. Every morning, upon it’s first movement of the day, it would greet me with Bonjour Ben.

This little jumpdrive shaped number tracks steps, miles, and stairs.

I walked over 16,000 steps on Saturday.  I only went for a walk in the evening to make sure I rolled over that 15,999.

I’m hooked.

I ran Sunday, in part mostly because I wanted to see if I could top 16,000 steps.  Sadly, Bonjour Ben is old and it’s display stops working without notice or obvious cause. Even though I’m sure I logged 6+ miles yesterday between my morning run and evening walk, I’ll have to wait until the new FitBit arrives and I can tackle that same route again.

Bonjour Ben was returned to its rightful owner and I bought the next generation of FitBit this morning with my Amazon Visa reward points. I’m a little nervous about this being a ‘shiny object’ so I was glad to use points to pay the $90.

Now I wonder what it would take to get to 20,000 steps…

Jun 14 2013
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cancer

Foreshadowing

In high school, I randomly went on a trip to Europe. I say randomly because I was 16 and didn’t have a sense of self much less a sense of adventure.  My dad was the son of a rear admiral whose career took his family all over the world. As an international commercial pilot himself, he taught me to imagine beyond the invisible boundaries of my young life.  He’d bring back coins stamped with strange people and symbols. I deposited the coins in a tiny clay pot I made in school, but not before I’d locate it’s point of origin in my Rand McNally Atlas.

I was ‘selected’ to go on this student ambassador trip to Europe. I’m pretty sure that ‘selection’ had something to do with research on my parents’ tax return, but it didn’t stop my dad from being excited about the opportunity for me to travel and he never really got excited over much.  I’m not sure why I decided to go, but it was probably more to make my dad happy than anything else.

Looking back, this trip was perfect for young deviants. We were left to our own devices with only Chuck, Carol, and Vern leading 30 some teenagers through Great Britain and Ireland.  Chuck was creepy, Carol could have cared less, and Vern…I don’t actually remember anything about Vern. Anyway, the sex, drugs and rock-and-roll that could have happened either didn’t or I was too naive to notice.

A few days in, Ali and I connected over our shared love of peaches. One late night talking on the ferry from London to Wales and we were inseparable for the rest of the trip. There were some cool people on that trip and looking back, I wish I would have taken the time to know. Like Leah.  Today, Leah and I are Facebook ‘friends’.  ‘Friends’ like we talked about commiserating over beer about her mom’s brain cancer and my mom’s mental illness and her brother-in-law’s terminal gastrointestinal cancer and my BFF’s melanoma, but we’ve never actually made it happen.

Last week, her brother-in-law died. He lived 2.5 years longer than the experts told him he would. And during that time, he shared with any group that asked a powerful message about living. He was scheduled to speak at a fundraising event for me in the fall – if he made it that long. As a result of that commitment-with-an-asterisk, I watched his CaringBridge page closely.

I slipped into a funk when I learned he entered hospice just days before the cancer overtook him and I cried the day he died. I knew I wasn’t crying about his death, but it took a moment to find the root of the upset.  The average life expectancy for someone withe metastatic melanoma is 16 months.  This felt like a foreshadow of what it will be like for S when the cancer overtakes her.

Jun 10 2013
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recycle

Alley Trollers

It took five hours, but our garage is cleared out.

This isn’t the two-car, well-lit, garage-door-opener garage of my childhood.  Nope. This is the 1939 version complete with a dirt floor, antique cobwebs, fauna, and a padlock.

In total, we had three sets of patio furniture.  The one we use, the one left with the house, and the set our neighbors were fortunate enough to offer to us the morning of my brother’s welcome home BBQ.

TB’s armoire had been holding the hand-me-down hammock while several old storm windows, 2×12’s, and drywall fought with the wheelbarrow and the lawnmower for space.

We called friends – particularly a friend building a cabin up north with remnants, offered up the unused goods to our neighbors, and then left the rest for the alley trollers.

In our fair metropolis, old beater pick up trucks wander up and down the city’s system of alleyways searching for the treasures of one man’s trash.  Within two days, 90% was taken. Within a week, everything down to the  ‘FREE’ sign had found a new home.

I’m proud that the guts of the garage will be recycled by some crafty alley trollers.  It was also a nice reminder to never leave the garage open and unattended.