About Me~, Uncategorized, Writing

One for Our Column~

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Yesterday was such a lovely day . I woke early and the world woke  with me , with  all the hints  that everything good might happen. My body even tempted me with promises of less joint pain, and energy enough to take a small walk down our lane into the sun-tinged air. The wee red fox who calls our farm home greeted me shyly on my way back as if to say, “Happy to see you out today! ” The birds went about their daylight  business looking for their breakfasts and for one golden moment I had a dawn  that reminded me of what my life had been like so many years ago. I did laundry, straightened my kitchen, and walked barefoot through my tomato patch as I had  done so many times as a tomboyish 10 year old , and my Grandpa was one row over again urging me , “Make sure you get them tommytoes off the bottom vines  there, PeeWee!” . I wish I could have captured that moment in  a mason jar, as we used to do the fireflies , to open today , for sometime in the middle of the night ; the tordol, dexemethesone combo wore off, and the lupus pain came rushing back in , with all the fury of a caged beast  , seemingly  all the more angry for having been denied its one day. I want to say I’d never had that one moment , that one day, but if I did  I’d be lying. If we are all honest with ourselves, we would trade a hundred days , a thousand days , and we HAVE traded them, to get that ONE . That ONE magical day that brings back those gilt-lit days of joy, laughter, memories, barefoot -garden days, sun-warmed beach days, child-filled swing -in-the-park -days, those days where we shake our fists at lupus, at chemo, at whatever has stolen our glitter from our lives, and say , “YOU DIDN’T GET THIS ONE!! THIS ONE BELONGED TO ME!!”  , just so we can  put a chalk-mark in OUR column , no matter how small, and continue on.

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About Me~, Uncategorized, Writing

Wings~

 

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Happiest of Tuesdays to you EveryBUDDY! I hope today finds you doing the best you can with what you have. Sometimes that’s all we can do. The best that we can. Sometimes not even that. Sometimes we can’t even give it our all. There are days we can only give it our “some”. And the perfectionist in me is learning to be okay with that. I am very blessed in that I married a man who is perfectly okay if the house is not spotless every day. I do NOT have to look like a supermodel when I roll out of the bed in the mornings. ( Thank the Good Lord above. ) He met me when I was already very ill , and married me anyway. Needless to say it pretty much all went downhill from there. If angels walk among us, I’m pretty sure he hides his under his grease stained overalls. I read  very frequently a question that gets asked on my lupus page, from many of my followers, who are just beginning their journeys with this insidious disease, the question I most dread hearing. “Does it get better?” They can usually mean a few things by this. Sometimes they mean the treatment they receive from friends and family members. As in , “Does the treatment from them get better? Will they understand? Will they be more compassionate and helpful?” I wish I could say yes. But mostly , sadly, the answer is “No.” People , in large part, don’t “Get it” unless they GET IT , and that is something we don’t really wish on anyone. Sometimes they mean , “Will my illness get better?” And the answer to that is a resounding “No. ” as well. Oh how I wish I could say, “Oh yes! The doctors are so helpful. The treatments are wonderful. And the support is great. You’ll be back to yourself in no time. ” But it’s just not true. The best I can wish for them is a period of “remission” a short respite of ease . Now for those of you reading this thinking, “Well aren’t you being a Debbie Downer today??” I don’t mean it to be! I really mean it to be positive, so that when you see someone WITH a disease like we have , you will TRULY understand how HARD we fight to STAY positive. We must make up our own minds EVERY SINGLE DAY that we are going to live to see above the trees.  EVERY minute to smile through horrible pain. Our bodies literally hate us. And no amount of King’s Men can put our Humpty Dumpty’s back together again. So we must make the best go of it that we can, and oil our flying machines.  If we seem triumphant over some small thing, please remember that maybe even walking down the hall to our bedroom was like a 10K . Standing long enough to cook spaghetti was like a marathon. Taking one of our meds off our list , is relative to soaring over  Everest. These are the measures we count our lives by. So please. Don’t take offense if we don’t seem like “our old selves”. It’s been a long , long time since some of us even remember what that was like. Smile with us in the now. You don’t have to “HAVE IT ” to “GET IT”   🙂  Our bodies might seem to  be falling apart, but our spirits are still the same on the inside.  The wings might be bent, but not broken, at least, not for long. Come fly with us.

About Me~, Uncategorized, world affairs, Writing

Carry it with you when you go………

 

 

10392064_1026918694047470_4501905245649217180_n (1)Did you just ever have one of those months where it all seemed to pile up on you ? The news , the negativity , the gossip, the baleful oil of the sheer sliminess piling up in wave upon wave until it  just seems determined to pull you under the weight of it? That’s what it seemed like this last month. So much so that I turned off my FB , my Twitter, my blog, and all my communications. That’s not all that new of a step for me. I have been known to go off-grid for as long as two years without even a television. When my husband and I got married we owned no computer, no television, no telephone, no washer or dryer, and lived 10 miles from the largest chain store. Lest you think I was some sort of a hermit, I worked at a library, had lots of friends, enjoyed chatting  with certain people, and not just with “conspiracy nuts”. But anywho, I digress. It’s 2016 now, and apparently in this century it’s  considered en vogue to have  a certain number of such  kooky friends. There however seems to be a pallor hanging over the universe these days. If you so  much as even dare to breathe a smile in someone’s direction it is deemed a hostile action. I ventured forth into town to do my weekly shopping and it was as if I had forayed into a war zone. “How dare I smile in the general area of the shoppers in the aisle I was on?!?” It was as if I had thrown poison darts in the path of their cart! “What right had I to be happy?!? What reason had I to be so cheerful in the store for crying out loud?” HMMPPH! It was unseemingly.  I don’t know why it bothers me so badly . Why do I want so much for the world to be a positive place?  Sometimes I swear it is a losing battle, and I wonder if people have made it their own personal mission to dampen as many people’s moods as possible while out and about on their daily jaunt. Well, I hereby declare that I REFUSE TO LOSE! THAT’S RIGHT, YOU HEARD IT HERE  FIRST! I am making it my own personal mission to get a smile from each person I pass. You will not dampen my mood. You will not rain on my parade, and you will not squash my happiness. So, if you take offense at my smile, I feel genuinely sorry for you. I hate that you are having a bad day, and I hate that things are not working out well for you. But I am going to smile just the same. That is my philosophy for today, my philosophy for tomorrow and for all the tomorrows from now on! So hopefully I am leaving you with a little bit of my smile for today, and maybe you can carry it with you for the rest of today !

About Me~, Fae, Uncategorized, Writing

All The Best People Are ~

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I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to go mad. I was sure I was. Absolutely bonkers. So.  I walked out. It was SO beautiful outside today. I just couldn’t stay cooped up in this house one single minute more. I literally felt as though I had no air. I told my sons I am going to walk to Maw and Paw’s. If it kills me. I mean it very well could have I suppose . It’s only next door, not even a mile. But me and being upright, we don’t really gee-haw. The world quite fantastically becomes topsy-turvy , and not in the fun, Through-The-Looking-Glass -Sense, but in the I need the emergency care sense. But I just couldn’t take it anymore. I love being outdoors more than anything. Being basically sofa and bed bound is soul-crushing.  The same views. The windows. The monotonous television, computer, and even as much as I love them, yes, books.  I mean my husband has done amazing things for me outside my windows, so that I have my bird feeders. He keeps my plants , vintage lamps, and green glass insulators situated in the lights so that they are sparkling. Those are all wonderful things. But oh, today. I just missed it so much . Did you ever just long for the smell of the woods, and the feel of the wind, and the sound of the gravel crunching under your feet? Walking to my parents should have been a five minute walk. It took my son and me  nearly half an hour. I went very slow and very steady. The joy though! The deep green of the moss on the creek bank . The birds flying over from the oak where Grandpa used to sit in his old cast iron farm chair. I kicked the sand up with my bare feet even in the cold and even in my exhaustion it was the most glorious I had felt in what seemed like forever. I know when I appeared at their door, my parents thought I had indeed, “Gone round the bend.” so I assured that “Oh yes! I was. But then again . All the best people are.”   My sweet Daddy did do me the courtesy of a ride , so I didn’t have to walk back. But maybe we all need  a little bit of insanity sometimes ………..just to really feel sane.

About Me~, Poetry, Writing

MEPHITIC

~MEPHITIC~

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What malodorous substance do you use,

to cover the lies you tell?

Do you not even notice now, 

the way it  gives off a smell?

It corrupts  everything you touch,

it poisons  the very air.

Wilts away  all the  new life, 

til only  the   old is there.

Friends once caught in conversation,

 can now only hear burnt words.

 Only falsely spoken cries from

fallen dying birds.

I want so badly  to believe again,

 that the words you say are  true,

in this apocalyptic wasteland, though, 

the most distorted thing  is you.

Ruby Jeanette Woods

August 2015

About Me~, Writing

Beautiful~

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My husband took me out for a drive up around the lake that’s about 7 miles from where we live yesterday. They call Arkansas the Natural State for good reason. If you live here, there is pretty much a lake, stream , river, pond, or body of water of some sort near driving distance from where you live. People hunt here, they fish, there are more critters of the furry , scaled, flying, and feathered variety than you could shake a stick at. We have huge loblolly pines, cedars, oaks, practically any kind of tree you could imagine. I love it here.

During my childhood I spent more time outdoors than I EVER spent in. I was a wildling. I hated bathing, combing my hair only when made to, did not wear shoes, rode a horse everywhere , went without a shirt  , dressed as a boy; people thought my Dad had three daughters and ONE son, and he most of the time did not bother to correct them.  Two of my favorite things , other than riding, were to climb the tallest tree I could find, and the other, were to go up what we called ‘ the dirt road’  and lay in Mr. Plant’s pasture for hours and just watch the clouds go by overhead. There is something so amazing about just feeling the grass under your back, and smelling the trees, and not having to worry about a single thing.

Then I lost all that. Some crazy illness from the pit of wherever these things come from stole that from me. The very sunshine itself made me sick. I couldn’t even get out in it. It were as if I became a vampire. A pale shadow of myself. Smelling the grass made me break out into hives. Pine trees made me come down with infections so severe I ‘d need antibiotics.  Heck. I couldn’t even climb a tree without becoming so winded I ‘d feel like passing out. The fatigue was unbelievable.

Fast forward 15 plus years to yesterday and the ride round the lake I was telling you about. I have lupus and assorted other things . We know that now. I deal. The thing is,  I have bad spells . I get really sick, so I hadn’t been out , not really ,in so very long, because the problem I’ve been dealing with lately is what they call syncope. That’s a fancy word for passing out. Kissing the carpet.  Not fun. No drives. Heh. Shoot. No sitting up for very long without feeling light headed. But I’ve felt better the last couple of weeks so up to the lake we went.  It was spectacular. Everything was greener than I have ever seen it. Suddenly a tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. The minute it does my husband starts to pull the car over thinking I’m getting sick. ” What’s wrong? Are you okay?!?” he asked nervously.  “Yeah. Yes. Yes. It’s  just so beautiful.”

About Me~, Writing

The BITE~

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Okay,  I’ll just get right down to the brass tacks people.  At the beginning of this month , I had kind of made a goal with myself and my page here that I would write every day about lupus, because this is lupus awareness month.  But , let’s be perfectly honest here, I suck at daily goals.  In large part , BECAUSE of lupus, and in large part because I JUST don’t WANT to write about lupus every day. I mean , seriously. LUPUS sucks huge quantities of big , hairy things. It bites. It blows. I want to write about fun things. Like roller coasters. Okay, so maybe not about roller coasters, I don’t particularly find those fun. But , KITTENS! Or orange sherbet , or ginormous glasses of ice cold coca cola consumed at mind blowing speed! YES! THOSE kinds of things! Not IV infusions , or toe -nail puking nausea, or rashes that make your skin fall off. Or being in the hospital for so long that you’ve moved your entire wardrobe there, and know ALL the nurses and doctors by name, and you’re only 22 years old. I want to write about traveling! To places with names like Zanzibar, and Montenegro, where they serve you things that you can’t pronounce, and maybe you don’t even want to.  I want to write about things like kissing my husband on top of a mountain so high you have to sleep on top of it for the night before you can climb back down again. I don’t want to have to write about things like telling my sons , “No . There will be no more babies in Mommy’s belly. The lupus took those parts away.” And I was only 24.  I don’t ever want to write again , ever again , about chemotherapy, to kill the lupus , which it does , VERY effectively , but also makes me so sick I wish I COULD die before it does.  I would only write about the good things! The things like , my husband holding my hand in the hospital , while I was breathing so few breaths the nurses thought that I was going to go, but I still knew my family was there. I would write that, in spite of all that I have seen , felt and done, every single day of my 36 years has been worth it, I would write that the love I feel for my children surpasses any pain I have ever known, and I would write to those of you in the midst of this fight , that yes, lupus sucks large quantities of big, hairy things.  It blows. It bites. But WE  bite harder. And I will find and write the GOOD much more than the bad.