My Confession

PicCollage-6Today, I mentally went to my “special” place (in my mind) when my son started talking about the new safe house that he built in Minecraft. For 45 minutes, I heard about zombies, secret passageways, storage chests and some poor cows that fell over and turned into leather. I tried to look interested, I really did and even interjected an “Oh, my goodness, really?” every couple of minutes. I truly thought this game would lose its appeal after a couple of weeks but…it seems to be hanging on…tight.
Dayum

Not Feelin’ These Buns :(

I have a lot of love for this particular baking company (cuz they make some very good cookies) BUT dayum, these onion hamburger buns that they make, well, look…gross.  I’m sure they taste good (and I do admit, they felt baby butt soft) but I just can’t get into any bun that looks like it got “smooshed” with some picnic ants.

bread

Jughead & I

PicCollage
I love comic books.   When I was a kid (a long time ago),  a great weekend meant…a quiet room, a bologna sandwich on white Wonder Bread and a comic book.   I’m going to admit a couple of things to you.   I had a crush on dopey black-haired Jughead, I wanted to be friends with Richie Rich, and I thought Lil Lulu was kinda cool…oh, and I definitely wanted powers like the Invisible Woman.  Unfortunately, Jughead never called, Richie played with his cousin Reggie and Lulu only wanted to hang out with Tubby.   However, and (oddly enough), I DID become the Invisible Woman!   Imagine that…out of all the characters that filled my weekends…I got to be the ONE with superpowers!   Wow, not too shabby, huh?   I mean the power of invisibility, come on, that’s pretty darn cool, right?  After all, with THAT power, I could sneak up on ANYBODY even the President of the United States, although I don’t know how much fun that would be, seriously.   But, don’t be jealous though, because I’m only invisible when it comes to my chronic illness.

I appear to be happy and healthy.
So no one sees me.
I don’t show any signs of illness unless you see the small bump that my medi-port makes under my skin.
I look too well.
Sometimes, I wish I could go back to the days when life was simple…and I was visible.
Digestive disorders are often undiagnosed and can’t be seen.
Trust me; we that have invisible illnesses don’t want to be super heroes.
Seriously, we don’t want to sneak up on people.
Or spy on the President
Or even save the world
Sometimes, we just want to be ourselves…
And just be seen
And, you know something?
The more I think about that…that’s pretty-

Darn powerful enough.

 

Two thoughts: Graham Crackers & Underoos

I love Graham Crackers with a big ole layer of “I can’t believe it’s not butter” spread on it-

Graham crackers are good
But always at the bottom
Of the cookie aisle

They get no respect unless they hang out with a marshmallow or chocolate


Underoos are dangerous.
I had a pair of Wonder Woman Underoos when I was younger and thought I was damn near invincible, I would jump off chairs, the bed, the tub.
Thank goodness, I had enough sense to keep the second story window closed.
I know Underoos are dangerous.
But, I really think I can handle them now.

I think.

 

Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

Hot Damn, it’s Friday
No clocks set for morning snooze
Drool on my pillow

Memories of my youth
The Love Boat and crispy chips
Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

Little girls shrieking
Talking about the cute boys
Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

Trembling hands on waist
Awkwardly moving to beats
Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

Lost in the book stacks
Forty percent of my grade
Damn it, it’s Friday!

My first interview
Did my resume impress?
Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

I have thirty kids
Tired from grading papers
Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

Got to pay my rent
Hope it’s Ladies night tonight
Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

Your life starts to grow
Days and nights merge together
Hot Damn, it’s Friday!

Now realizing that
Friday is what you make it
Hot Damn, it’s Friday.

May You Sleep Tonight….

*I wrote this last week…I am still trying to catch up with all my dreams… 🙂

;

It’s now 11:59 p.m. In one minute today will be finished. A new day will begin. I stare at the little body in the bed. After many tosses and turns, the lil one is finally still, yet I can feel the restlessness that is inside. I look at the clock. 12:03. This is going to be a long freakin day.

I haven’t slept yet. I look down at the clock on my phone. I have officially been up for 32 hours. Matt, the nurse, comes in to check the still one who is snoring softly. Pulse is good. Temperature is normal. You should try to get some sleep.
Thank you, I will try.

3:30a.m…that’s when they bring out the doughnuts…but you can’t buy em yet…I got my eye on that nice glazed one in the right corner

3:45a.m…walking the hallways until doughnut release time. its quiet, except for the heavy footsteps of the security guards and the occasional sound of opening elevator doors. Its kinda spooky, almost like a scene in a scary movie. I should be scared because I’m black and everyone knows that the black person is always the first to go in a scary movie. Hmmm, let me go back and check on that doughnut . Just in case.

My little glazed fellow is still chillin in the corner when I get back to the cafeteria. I pick him up and gently place him in a white parchment paper cocoon . Inhaling deeply, I can smell his sweet sugary goodness. The weird thing is that I don’t usually eat donuts because they aren’t worth me getting sick, but it looks nice in my hand. I take a bite. Soft. I take another bite. It aint no Krispy Kreme but not too shabby. I want to take another bite but I don’t. I need to be there for the lil one. I toss my half eaten fellow in the trash and head back to the room.

It’s quiet when I get back except for the clicking of the medical machines.

Up for 37 hours. Wow. I feel energized. I feel like I could run a mile or two. I am so tired, my eyes burn and feel heavy but the thoughts in my head keep my body up.

I curl up into a ball and wrap myself in the thin blanket that the nurse gave me. I want to sleep, I really do, but the steady sounds of the IV pump remind me of the heart beat that the hallucinating man heard in Edgar Poe’s poem, “The Tell-Tale Heart.” All I can hear is ticking and clicking. It fills my head. It’s all I hear. I wonder if Edgar wrote because he could not sleep. Maybe he couldn’t separate his dreams from his reality. I wonder.

Time passes. The sun breaks through the sky. Shifts end. New bright and alert faces exchange places with those with sleepy eyes who want to go home. Vitals are taken as new introductions are made. Time passes as we watch cartoons. A knock on the door. A tray of food arrives. Clear broth for the lil one. Nothing for me, the remnants of my doughnut still in my throat. My contacts are dry. I blink to refresh them. A knock on the door. The Doctor comes in to see their little patient. I heard you have been up for a while, hopefully you will be able to sleep tonight? She smiles sympathetically already knowing the answer. I nod confidently. I’m sure I will…

but I already know…until lil one is okay.

I won’t.