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(august 08)

I just got a call from my daughter, she's still in Austin, and she announced to me that she is "going to start recycling." I said I knew it, I knew you'd go down there and come back a tree hugger. She's not referring to normal everyday recycling. When my kid says she's "about to start something" it never means it's going to be a passive endeavor. She says they went to Barton Springs today and there was an older lady sitting there topless, sunning herself, and I got the full description of her breasts. According to my daughter the woman had "nipples the size of Jupiter." She said there was a little boy playing nearby, and the dad was sort of bothered by the spectacle because the little boy kept staring, and the dad said, loud enough to where to woman could hear: "Son, not all of them look like that. Most of them are perky." Then another woman came and sat down by the first one and she also removed her top. The dad said, "That's it. I'm taking you to a PG movie." And they left. At least they were halfway covered. Not like the website my dad and his girlfriend were all hyped up about last time I was over there: Hippie Hollow. And guess what. They actually went there. To be voyeurs. I got the full description of the place and the types of folks that go there. I am uncomfortable with public nudity. I don't think it's a beautiful thing when it's out in the open. I don't think man parts should be swinging around for the world to see especially. Especially the men.

I just walked to the mailbox and with each step down the stairs I heard my conscience say, "I should not be pushing myself". With each step. I'm getting more and more dizzy. It's either fall or stand on the edge forever, what would you do? I might as well go ahead and fall and get it over with. As I was walking to the mailbox I had something new! Sharp jabs in my right hip. Little stabs. Like something was biting me. And my fingers and toes have sharp prickles in them. Even now as I type, it feels like I touched a cactus. I'm strangely calm this time around. Last time I panicked. I'm not going to freak out again. I'm going to just get fixed and keep it simple and just keep on. I got a letter from my grandmother. Here let me open it and I'll tell you what it says.

WOAH!!!! For starters, a $50 gift card to Whole Foods! No way! I can use that! Oh I am a happy camper!!! what she wrote in the card is boring so I'll spare you.

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Well here we go again. No silly not with a new blog. With the hospital. Guess what. I'm a dizzy mess. More so than usual. There's a strange feeling at the back of my neck, it feels like someone has their thumbs pressing on it. I already know what it is- it's my backup health problem. As if the west nile wasn't enough. No, my body needed a backup plan to use against me. It's my bone thing. The bones in my neck are slowly pushing on my spinal cord. It was found on an MRI but I didn't give it a second thought because of the whole west nile thing. I've had a lightheaded sensation for a few weeks now but now it's all the time. I'm dizzy. If I stand up to fast I feel like I'm going to drop. I had another meltdown today and my mom said it's hospital time again. I told her I can't deal with the people who answer the phones there. She said she'll call tomorrow and bully them real good till they can see me. If you're not dying, you have to wait. I didn't want to go back there because of this. I was waiting to get my own neurologist so I wouldn't have to wait so long when I needed to be seen, but looks like that's not happening just yet. The hospital is run by medical bullies and I have trouble standing my ground with them. But that's another topic.

At least I have a new blog. Each new page is like Christmas.

My neck feels like Darth Vader is holding onto it, gently. It doesn't hurt. My mom said if the bones aren't lifted off the spinal cord it could result in paralysis! For real! And it starts in your hands. That would explain why my hands have been funky lately. So I guess the dizzy thing is good, it's to get my attention to get back and get more treatment? My mom said my body is talking to me. I never wanted to have a conversation with my body.

I need a stiff drink. And the only place I can get that currently is at my sister's house. But I don't think I can drive over there right now. My head is not right. You're not right either. Nobody is.

But guess what. I decided to be happy. Apparently there is no escape to all this. So I've decided to make the most of it. More so than usual. I rearranged my bedroom today and it looks cute. I'm going to make sure I never run out of chocolate, and I have some new ideas for some drawings. Just stay with me. That's all I ask. I don't know why I fight this blogging thing. I would have lost my mind without it.

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Today I opened up the styrofoam ice chest that's been in the back of my closet since I moved here, it's part of what my kid refers to as my "armageddon stash". I do not stockpile. In fact I think it might backfire on us all. It occured to me that if and when something happens where people really do need to break into their stashes, that means their neighbors might be hungry, which means it wouldn't be right, and fights are going to break out and then the cops will have to get involved, then they'll probably crack down and make everybody turn their stuff in for the common good. And then you will hang your head and let out a long sigh as you realize all your time and effort was wasted. At least that's how I feel about it. I'd rather have my token 6 weeks worth of goods and then when I get low, expect a miracle. Or just go ahead and starve.

So about this ice chest. It has all my fire supplies in it. I laughed as I opened it up and examined the contents. It's all about fire. But the only problem is, I only seem to be focused on lighting it. It looks like I didn't think too far past that. I have several packs of dollar store lighters, dollar store matches, and even a thing of lighter fluid, which I don't even know how to use. And then there's my spiffy little .. what is it? All I know is, I ordered it off this survival website back in '05. That's when I got all this stuff. When I moved to that little house in Red Oak. I was terrified there. Absolutely terrified. That's when I started thinking about surviving, is when I lived there. I guess I had good reason to be thinking along those lines. I should have stocked up on bug spray though. But about my little oven thing. I don't know what it is. But it came with a long-burning candle that goes in it, and you can actually cook things on it. Like a little campstove. I think it's cute. You should have seen me each time there was a bad storm. I got my supplies out and set them on the counter, all ready. My daughter laughed at me. We also had a rat or two at that place. I had to learn to set a trap. That was horrible. I never caught any. I just gave up and started throwing things up into the attic to drive them away. Everything. Laundry soap, mothballs, pinecones, boric acid. Salt. Eucalyptus leaves. You name it. I threw it up there. It worked! The rats/mice left. I wonder what the landlord thought about it when he went up there and saw it all. I also left over a hundred gallons of water up there. Just in case. Because when the electricity went out there, the water went out too! I'm telling you, that place was scary! And did I ever mention that I found out that it used to be a crackhouse? That explains the strange people who would show up every now and then with a shifty feel to them, knocking on my door and asking if so and so was home. Why did I live there? How did this happen? Can I go back in time and not move there?

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I don't even know where to begin on this one.

My body is breaking down, however, I strongly suspect with a quick flip of a surgeon's knife I will be made well once more. I'm thinking all I need is a few of those little bones popped off and I'll be up and running again. I'm dizzy. And my palms are numb. And I didn't know it but, I can't walk that good at all. I didn't know cause all I do is schlep around the apartment with no physical challenges at all. But today my mom insisted we go to the ER to get checked out, and I couldn't hardly make it up the stairs in the parking garage. They just kept going. I didn't. I walk slower than your great-grandmaw. My mom says I "have worsened greatly." Yay! Yay worsening greatly!! But the wait was too long. We were there all day. Got there at 10 and finally gave up and left around 6. For one thing they had my name wrong, and I heard them calling over and over again, "AMY MCBRIDE! AMY MCBRIDE! LAST CALL FOR AMY MCBRIDE!!! ..and there was no Amy McBride. Several hours passed and some guy noticed we had been there forever, and he goes, you don't even have an arm band yet? You were supposed to get one at registration. So we checked it out and they thought I was Amy McBride. I said no, I have no idea how you got that name. So they had to start all over again with me. People kept coming in on ambulances and that bumps you further down the list. I gave up. I am not sleeping in the waiting room. One lady said she waited once for 3 days. So I am going to go back through the system and endure the waits between appointments, and in the meantime, hope and pray I don't up and pass out any time soon. My neck is holding on by a thread. That's what it seems like. The pressure is saying, "I am going to get you."

So I also met a cute guy but as I was reaching for my pen my mom cleared her throat real loud and said no under her breath. He cooks food for the homeless people downtown. I keep meeting cooks! Things are looking up! He said he noticed me when I first came in. That tells me right there he's not too selective. I was limping and holding my head. He messed up his leg and I told him I can't date because I'm too messed up and he laughed and said he was messed up too. This gives me hope. In fact I saw a whole lot of limping guys today and thought, maybe I really should stick with other messed up people. That way I won't feel so bad. Also there was a woman there who also got lost in the system and waited too long and just belted out, "I AM ABOUT TO GO POSTAL ON THIS MOTHER F*$^&NG PLACE!!" And she stormed out. Then a crazy woman came in and started doing air guitar with her cane. I am not kidding.

But out of all these noteworthy things, the very best one is my new coffee cup. It's styrofoam but it's hillarious. It all started when my mom saw people go up to this window in a remote corner of the waiting room. She said it looked like they were getting prescriptions. That is until we saw a hand come out with popcorn in it. It's a little food thing! Built into the wall. So my mom went over and got herself some popcorn and came back with some coffee for me. I had not cracked a smile all day until I read the cup. It says: "For a tasty treat that keeps you on your feet, visit Parkland Perk!" ..meaning, the little hole in the wall thing is calling itself Parkland Perk! Like Starbucks except it's in an emergency room! It's unmarked, no signs, no nothing. So I did visit Parkland Perk but it's not keeping me on my feet. And there's also a happy bright sunshine design on it. A stark contrast to the sounds of people vomiting in the bathrooms and the cussing old people.


I need my neck fixed. It's shutting down my central headquarters. I don't know what to do or how to do it. I have trouble taking charge of myself medically. I turned it all over to my mom. I'm not ashamed to say I need help right now. I need other brains involved and I need the moral support. My mom is a real friend right now. She keeps me fed and sane and I forgot to say, she said about my new friend (he sat on the floor next to me and kept me entertained) she said, Amy he is BAD NEWS. I didn't see that in him. I feel bad now. He even wrote me a little note. I tore it up when I got home to keep my from scanning it and posting it. My whole world is a show and tell session right now. I can't help it. It helps me cope.

You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to add my blog to directories all over the world, thereby extending my verbal shenanigans globally. I'm going to spank the entire world. You can call me The Punisher.

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Today in my prayer I told God to just deal with me, just hash me out, just do whatever He has to do to make sure there's NOTHING in between us, because when I get to heaven and stand before Him I don't want there to be any unresolved issues to deal with. I don't want to get there and He has to have a talk with me about anything or subtract any treasures or make me aware of some eternal consequences. I said, just get it over with, please deal with me completely while I'm here on the earth. Because I want to just run to You in complete joy when I see You. And also I want Jesus to be laughing when He sees me.
So after all this, when I was done praying, I was reminded of that verse in Colossians about building up in Christ. "As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude." (Col 2:6-7)
So what I'm thinking is I need to stop taking my relationship with Christ for granted "as is" and keep building, keep seeking, keep searching for a deeper knowing of Him and who He is, and spend more time with Him. I need to build some more.

So my chain reaction in my mind started thinking of a dream I had recently about Lincoln Logs. In the dream I was building, and I saw a square being constructed, one side at a time, layer after layer, slow and steady. Building up.

What are you working on? I'm working on staying alive with a smile and moving forward even though my body wants to fall backward. A little while ago I sat down and tried to draw the Lincoln Logs I dreamed of but it looked stupid. So I decided to go with the blocks and the stick people. You get the idea.

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Last night, or was it early this morning, I had a brief dream of a man sitting in a jail cell, and Jesus was walking right outside the cell, in full view of the man. I understood that the man was in "his own prison" and Jesus was waiting for the man to come on out of it, understanding being the key. Of what a relationship with Christ is about. Real understanding. The man sat there with his head down inside the cell and said something about how it's "only exciting when..." He was rationalizing Christianity in his mind and pondering the things about it that he liked, thinking of reasons to approve and disapprove of it. And all the while there was Jesus, pacing? Right outside the cell.

So of course this has been on my mind ever since I've woken up. I prayed about it and I don't know what else to say, other than simply tell you what I saw. Everyone has to work it out on their own and seek Him on their own.

I can say this however. The man in the cell said something about "excitement". Which made me think of how some people can get easily sidetracked with all the spiritual aspects of Christianity, especially the prophetic. How some people see it as some kind of holy magic show and can't wait for the next exciting revelation or dream or word of knowledge, and the excitement and rush when it comes to pass or when it lines up with your own world. I visited a prophetic website one time and sensed that it was being used like a tarot reading, even by Christians. Some people check in for the wrong reasons. We have to remember that the gifts of the Spirit are tools to help one another out, the purpose being to edify one another and encourage one another. The gifts are tools for His people. The gifts themselves are not to be glorified. Which brings to mind a vision I had a few years ago: I saw a gorgeous colorful arrow, I held it in my hands and admired it, turning it over and over and examining it and cherishing it. I knew in my spirit that this was a reminder, that we are not to admire the tools (weapons!)- just use them. I was convicted by this vision at the time, it was when my dreams and visions were first starting to happen on a more frequent basis and I admit I was caught up in the whole excitement of it all. This is another trick of the enemy so watch out. Everything has to be kept in it's proper place. Nothing should be more important to us than our everyday walk with Christ. It's that simple. Beware of things that tickle your spiritual fancy. How did I stray from the subject? I was trying to explain my man in the jail cell dream. Actually to be honest it wasn't a dream, it was a brief vision, and not only that but it was shown to me just like a cartoon. It looked like a New Yorker cartoon, black and white, single panel, drawn sketchy and what the man was saying was shown as a caption, in quotes, at the bottom. And ya'll wonder why I am so in love with God. He is hillarious with me and He gets His points across to me in the most funny ways. He shows me pictures most of the time instead of long drawn-out speeches. He babies me. I love Him.

wait

Did any of this make sense? I don't know what else to say about it.

My uncle is in the hospital on a ventilator and they are running tests on him today to determine whether or not they should go ahead and pull the plug. He overdosed last night on his medications on purpose. He's mentally ill and he's struggled for a long time. I might get to go see him this evening.

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To be honest I really don't have anything noteworthy to say but I wanted to write something anyway. So here we go. To begin with, I saw my uncle today, he's not in a regular hospital room. It looks like a fish tank room. Completely see-through. And then just him, in a bed, right there in the middle. On display. He's a big man. His feet were hanging off the bed. He's 6"3 or 4. I walked in and said, Uncle Andy it's Amy, and his left hand rose up for me to hold it, and I did, it was cold and clammy but I held it tight in both hands and told him I loved him. They have him restrained. And he didn't know it. Until I got there. As it turns out I was the first family member to talk to him, apparently he had just come to, right before I got there. He was asking where he was and how he got there and how long he'd been there. The nurse interrupted and he snapped t her and said I DON'T NEED YOU TO INTERPRET! and he made a hissing sound at her. She left the room and he settled back down. I soothed him and told him that he was in God's care. He mumbled things that I didn't understand but I nodded and acted like I was agreeing. There was blood on his chest, the nurse said when he woke up he ripped out his central line. I didn't know what to say to him so I told him that I read all the letters he sent to my mom over the years and how entertaining they were, and what an interesting life he's had. He liked that. I said, Andy do you remember you toured Europe on your bike? And do you know you've lived in some really interesting places? He really liked all this. Then I told him how much reading those letters blessed me. I said his wisdom and insight really taught me alot. He held on to my hand tighter as I talked with him. I told him I love him, and he told me he's been worried about me. I laughed and said, I know Andy! My body's messed up too! This morning when I was praying for him a Bible verse came to mind, so I looked it up, wrote it down, memorized it. And when I was standing there next to him I said, I know how much you love God and how much you love His Word, here's one for you- and I said to him, From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, the Lord's Name is to be praised. And as I was saying this, he rested his head on back, closed his eyes, and I could see his lips moving and he was saying it along with me.

Andy has paranoid schizophrenia. It hit in his mid 20's after experimenting with some hashish- the real thing- in Turkey. He was on leave, he was in the Marines and was taking a vacation. They said it triggered something in his brain, something about the chemicals. But that he could have gotten it regardless because it's also a genetic thing. But the trip to Turkey set him off and he's been in and out of the VA hospitals ever since. He's a wanderer. He went to my grandmother's house to end it all, but it looks like he didn't succeed. I don't know what's going to happen with him now. I guess if he comes all the way back they'll turn him over to the VA.

Tonight I took a long walk, a slow one. I can't walk fast anymore. I'm totally ok with it all now. It's peaceful. I had a new and different frame of mind this time. It was more of a stroll, in the moonlight, and I actually stopped to pet a toad. There's toads everywhere around here and usually I just say hello and walk on by, but tonight I decided to stop for a visit. He actually let me. He just sat there, didn't even blink. His skin was bumpy and he was fat and cute with beady black eyes. How long has it been since you've stopped to pet a toad? Next time you see one, why don't you. I think they like it.

I'm losing more weight and I'm not even remotely interested in food. I'm at 114. Which is fine but the only problem is I think it's melting away for no reason. Nothing tastes good. That's why these old people nutrition drinks are so appealing to me right now. They're easy. And also bananas. I'm going through bananas like a monkey. My right hand is getting weaker and it hurts sometimes. I have a few appointments lined up, back on the conveyer belt that runs through the hospital, back to the waiting and the testing and the uncertainties. Did I mention I can hardly go up stairs? I have to hold on to the rail and actually use it. It's my right leg.

What's really a trip is the peace I have. God is really doing a number on me.