The Joy of Roy

Sometimes when you are going through a rough patch, life introduces you to someone or something that brings a smile to your old curmudgeonly face... that for me has been Roy Boy.  I have never been around a Bassett Hound until I met Roy in June. My daughter married a wonderful young man this summer and I became an instant Grandma to Roy. Both of the kids work at LeConte Lodge in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. If you are unfamiliar, it is a remote mountain resort on the summit of the Smokies. Access is by several different  trails varying from approx. 5-8 miles. They stay on the mountain for about 3 weeks at a time and come down for a week or so. Roy stays with me and my dogs.                                      I can stand in my yard and look up at the mountain and sometimes, on a clear day, see the outline of the roof of some of the cabins.

Reservations are made about a year in advance. The season is from mid March to mid November. A good link is www.highonleconte.com if you would like to read or learn more about the lodge. Alyson and Chris Virden are the lodge caretakers. Alyson writes a great daily blog complete with her fantastic photographs.

At the beginning of the season, all the large items such as propane tanks, pallets of canned food and other large items are dropped by air left via a helicopter. During the season, a team of llamas make the trek twice a week to the lodge to bring supplies and to take down laundry and other items.  Many people day hike and visit the lodge area, rest for a while and then head back down. I have done that a couple times in my life before the old devil Fibromyalgia took up residence in my body. I would usually go in Boulevard trail , about 8 miles and then down Alum a 5 mile jaunt. You certainly knew you
had been on a hike the next day, but it was sure worth it. Below is a picture of me and my mom taken in 1984. We did the round trip 13 mile journey that day.

I had my daughter pose in the same area and recreate the shot earlier this year. I would give anything to be beside her, but I am not physically able to go in person, but oh how I go in my mind from time to time. I can smell the pine forest and the distinct odors that the higher elevations produce. I sure do miss the little things of life.

 Note she took my walking stick I have in the picture from 1984. My dad gave it to me in the 1970's. His uncle had made it from a grape vine and it was probably 50 years old at that time.

Today my daughter posted this on her Facebook page:

 

Yep, what ever mother wants to see... the fruit of your womb out dangling on a ledge. She definitely is her mothers child. But if I were on Leconte I would be admiring the sunset from the ledge too.
 I have totally digressed from Roy Boy.  He just makes me smile on bad days, which have been too many lately. The rain and weather in the south has been hell on us folks with muscle/joint issues this summer.              
 My other doggies, which are smaller and much shorter, dance in little circles while I am making their meals. Roy has been observing this and decided to try it. But considering he is so long, he had to make a large loop to get that body to make a completed, albeit very slow circle. He looked like the slinky dog from Toy Story.
Apparently, from what I can read, Bassett's are the comedians of the dog kingdom. His short little legs and those huge Bassett ears are in themselves enough to bring a smile, not to mention that face.  Today he decided to have a running frenzy in the yard and all I could think of was Dumbo. I expected him to go airborne at any minute and circle over my head. Yes, Roy was a much needed diversion this summer.

Below are a few more Mt. LeConte photographs.

LeConte Lodge 

Courtney and Beau taking a sunshine break earlier this month...lucky ducks!

interior of cabins

Back To Square One ~No Sleeve For Me

I thought I was so sure.... I made all my plans for the surgery, my daughter is coming to help me for a week and then POW!  It all started Wednesday when I attended a four hour mandatory class prior to the Gastric Sleeve procedure that was scheduled for August 5th. The nurse went into detail on the surgery , aftercare and the possible complications. Of course any surgery carries the possibility of complications that can lead to serious illness or death. We all know that. I managed pretty well for the first hour or so. The chatter was light and I was in a room full of all women, mostly middle aged,excited about starting a new chapter in their life. I was the only one who had already had a previous bariatric procedure so I wasn't quite as giddy as they were. I knew all too well the reality of vomiting and terrible nutrition absorption following my lap-band in 2004. I am very versed in the fact that a quick fix carries dire consequences sometimes. I have had a failed piece of silcon/plastic in my stomach since January 2012. I have lived with pain, nausea,vomiting, severe acid reflux and the re-gaining of approx 40 pounds that I had finally shed.  Soon the discussion of the surgery procedure was explained. The surgeon would cut away approx. 70-80% of your stomach, leaving you a small banana shaped new stomach. Your new and permanent stomach will hold less than what your mouth will hold...that is why you must chew your food till it is mush and not over eat.

  The liver must be lifted out of the way for the surgery, so you will be on a liquid diet for up to two weeks before the surgery to reduce liver fat. I was still doing o.k. until the dietician took center stage to tell us how and what we should eat following the surgery and then after six months when you go to a "regular" diet. The thought of the reduced food volume didn't bother me at all, but when we discussed dehydration is when my antennae went up. She kept stressing  how important it was to keep your water intake high. This is not news to me since I battle dehydration everyday of my life as a sufferer of HPOTS. I am always in a level of mild dehydration even after drinking 60-70 oz's  a day.  And then she said the words that changed everything "the first few days after surgery, you can only drink 1oz of water every 15 minutes and you will break that into two small sips about 7 minutes apart, anymore and you will vomit". Oh Snap... that will not work for me. When I wake each morning I have a bottle of water ready to drink before I even get out of bed. One thing us Potsy folks know is that when you are feeling like you are about to drop over or faint, you have to guzzle water ASAP, lots of water,with a side of salt.   The extremely small sips is the first few days, but then she added " you will never guzzle big swallows of water again or you will be sick".  I knew at that moment I had a big problem that would probably keep me from having this procedure.

I went on to get my labs drawn and tried to keep a positive spin on the procedure. The other ladies were all very excited and I knew that first of all, none of them would have a clue what Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia was and I didn't have the energy or desire to try to explain it once again. I know that this surgery has been very successful for many people and I don't want to discourage anyone from considering it, but it is a huge life commitment. It is not reversible and if you continue to overeat you will stretch the small stomach to a larger one and you are right back to square one. You have to take Prilosec everyday of your life and if you smoke (i don't ) you run a risk of getting ulcers that will never heal. I really appreciated the honesty of the staff for telling us the bad along with the good. Another big "oh hell no" was when the nurse said some women who have stopped having periods will start them again after this procedure. She said women of child bearing years must use two forms of birth control for a year after the surgery. Not that that is an issue with me, since I am a born again Virgin. I was so bummed and confused on the long drive home. I cannot do anything to put myself in a state of dehydration.  On Thursday, I emailed the doctor at Vanderbilt to see if he had an opinion or any guidelines on the subject. Within an hour he had answered me and said he had little experience with POTS and gastric surgeries.Apparently most people who have POTS are not overweight.

He did say that anything that restricted my intake of water was not good, and that if it was a serious complication for me, they would have to put in a port and administer IV fluids to keep my body at a level to keep me from having runs of Tachycardia. Obviously, this is a no brainer. I have about 40 pounds to lose, I  will not take such a risk for minimal weight loss. I might feel different if I had 100+ pounds to shed. But I doubt it. One other thing that bothered me was that most of  the women in the class were much smaller than I expected. I would estimate that all but two were only 20-40 pounds over their goal weight. I just expected to see much heavier people. I started to wonder if this is yet another fad. But, to each his own and we all know our own bodies and I know I can't take the chance of being unable to guzzle my H20. I called the office and cancelled the revision today.I will just have the lap-band removed and come home the same day if all goes well.
I am both disappointed and relieved. I have been on the pre-op diet for a couple days and really feel good getting the high protein diet. I have not had any sugar or sweets of any type since last weekend and I sure can feel the difference in my energy level and in the clarity of my thoughts. Even if I had went through with the sleeve, I could still eat sugar filled ice cream,cookies, candies, etc...my demon is sweets and I know the answer is a change in my overall eating habits. I am going to have to break up once and for all with my evil lover. It is an abusive relationship, but yet I stay.  My brain knows how bad I feel after the sugar high fades, but this is an addiction like any other.  I hope to continue this pre-op diet even after Gary is removed. I was talking to my sister and If I could incorporate the low cal/high protein diet into my eating habits I think it would be helpful. Maybe two days a week and then the remaining days eat a healthy diet sans sugar/junk food.
I know I have made the right decision for me to cancel because of the possible POTS complications. Hopefully, If I can stay away from the sweets and try to find another way to self sooth I can someday feel better.
Life is all about our daily choices and what makes each of  us happy...well, I should say content or resigned to life  in my case.
 Happy was one of Snow Whites Dwarfs.....

A Change of Mind~ The Gastric Sleeve

 Oh how I love my weekends... I look forward to them like I once looked forward to my yearly vacation. Now I am too tired and too broke to take a yearly vacation. I usually take my vacation days one or two at a time throughout the year by adding a day here and there, and added to a  three day weekend to get that most cherished of all mini vacations : FOUR days off in a row!  You  folks who suffer from a chronic issue with either pain and/or fatigue understand how wonderful it is to know that you don't have to put on a bra and makeup for a few days!! Heaven Baby!  Point being, I love the weekend, but Sunday afternoon always rolls around and you start the dreaded prep work for the Grind. This week is going to be particularly busy for me for a number of reasons. We will be having training at work on new software for dispatching which I'm sure will be quiet stressful in its self. On top of that I have made a major change in my plans of the removal of my lap band. I initially planned to just have Gary removed on August 5th and opted not to have any further surgery, but I have had a change of mind. After much worrying and watching these pounds just continue to accumulate I have decided to have the gastric sleeve procedure. I fear that when the band is removed and I have absolutely no restriction on my food intake, I will go through another cycle of intense weight gain. I don't think my already fatigued body can carry anymore weight. I have gained about 40 pounds in 18 months. I cannot exercise much due to the POTS. I am trying to ride a recumbent bike 10 minutes a day to start my process of reconditioning. If you have the type of POTS I do (hyperandrenergic) , my heart rate goes from 60-70 bpm to  140+ bpm by simply standing. The doctor at Vanderbilt said absolutely no cardiac exercise to start with when you are in a "deconditioned" state. Love that description.You have to work slowly to increase your cardiac workout.  On Wednesday, I attend a half day class at the hospital about the procedure. Then the following week I go for all the consults with the NP, anesthesiologist and the nutritionist. So I am two weeks away from the surgery...conflicted still to some degree about the fact that I will lose a section of stomach and that it is not reversible. I have been online reading forum posts from patients who have had the sleeve. So many say "the best decision I have ever made" then you see the ones where everything that could go wrong has and the people are in a bad place. I know every surgery has risks and possible complications. I am trying to weigh the negatives of carrying these extra pounds and the health risks associated with them to the surgery/post surgery complications.  I know this for sure... I didn't think I could be more miserable than I was a couple years ago, but let me assure you I am 10X worse now than I was in January 2012 when this lap-band failed and the weight gain began. I am both physically and mentally flat-lined. I'm in a depressive funk that I battle each day to claw myself out of ...

So the decision has been made. I can't continue to endure the daily struggle to just walk across the parking lot or down the hall at work. I am responsible for my life, both the good and bad. I can't get to the point of deconditioning to where I can't take care of myself. It is my responsibility to make the mortgage, feed and cloth myself and take care of business daily. A gals got to do what she has to do, so in two weeks I once again take a radical step in this battle of the bulge. I have an excellent surgeon in Knoxville who has done over 700 gastric sleeve procedures. He is very highly recommended by other physicians and past patients so this relieves my anxieties to a certain degree. So I am trying to embrace this as another new beginning and get myself in the right frame of mind to relax and prepare for the big day.

This Solitary Life

When I was a little girl, I spent most of my time alone. My father was a veteran of WWII and was over fifty years old when I was born. He suffered terribly from the malaria he contracted in the Philippines and PTSD. Our home was a ticking time bomb... as long as it was silent, it was tolerable. I have very few memories of before my parents divorced and I have absolutely no memories of my mother and father ever speaking to each other. I have a sister seven years older than me that I pretty much pestered as little sisters have a tendency to do.  She and my favorite cousin Pat would shut me outdoors to entertain myself.   My  mom worked each day in near by Gatlinburg and my dad was permanently disabled and basically home bound ,not to mention pissed at the world. He would work the tobacco patch and garden early in the day and then return to the house around noon to rest and sleep. This was when the code of silence had to be strictly adhered to or hell would break loose.  I would stay outside most of the time, playing in the woods or in the creek.  I was fearless and  regularly ventured into the deep woods alone to eat tea berries, stomp on devils puffballs and play fairy houses with the lush moss as their carpet. I loved the songbirds and all the wildlife I would see occasionally and I did not fear them.  I wasn't much of a girly girl.  I wanted a holster and pistol for I longed to be a cowgirl, galloping across rolling fields and prairies. On my fifth birthday I got a stick horse and  it was possibly definitely  the best gift ever.  That same fall,  I realized there were other children  and a terrible place called "school" I must attend. We lived about a quarter mile from the small school house and my poor mom had to literally drag me screaming and fighting in the door each morning. My school chums would later tell me they would gather around the heater and watch out the window each morning to witness the tantrum I threw as she pulled me through the gravel. Sometimes I would be completely flat and limp.  I was boneless before it was cool.  I have a few memories of those mornings. After I got into the daily routine and made playmates I chilled out a little.  I suppose it was this early independence that has laid the groundwork for me to long for solitude in this stage of my life. I went through a period during my twenties/thirties and forties that the thought of being single and living alone terrified me. I stayed in a unhealthy marriage way too long because of fear of being alone. I had just been diagnosed with the Fibromyalgia and couldn't imagine facing the future without someone to support and help me. Even a toxic spouse was better than no spouse...at least that was my belief at that time.But life has a funny way of showing you who's boss. I had a very close relationship with my mother and the loss of her in 2006 to breast cancer was life altering. But the shaking had just begun....within one month I was diagnosed with a malignant melanoma cancerous mole on my face. Fortunately, it was found very early and my prognosis was good. The next month my marriage of twenty five years imploded and became dust. I was paralyzed with fear and anxiety. I was sick, divorcing and terrified. I was thankful for the support system I had in my daughter, sister, and my lifelong girlfriends who fifty years earlier watched me come into their lives kicking and screaming.  They knew I was a fighter and I would be o.k., eventually.  A year or so later my daughter moved to Colorado. I wanted to scream "don't go!", but I knew she needed to take flight and find her own path. I didn't want her to feel the responsibility for my life and happiness that I had always felt for my mother. That is not fair to a child. I was becoming more comfortable in my own skin and somewhere that little person who traversed the hills and woods alone, playing with imaginary friends was wakening. I have talked before about how I actually don't live alone, I have my inner child to nurture daily. I love the solitude of my life.

Outside of work, I don't socialize at all except with immediate family and best friends.  My medical problems dictate much of my life. I only have so much to give and I will never again give any of my energy to undeserving/selfish humans. If I can take care of myself, so can everyone else.  I have a family of furry friends  who need and rely on me and that is where I am centering my limited energies. I won't say that I don't miss the human touch, I do. Sometimes I dream of intimacy, not sex, intimacy. Big difference. It would be nice to trust and love again but I don't think it will happen. My wall is pretty much impenetrable at this point. On the other hand, not being responsible for anyone except yourself is quite intoxicating.  I am too tired and ill to put any effort into a relationship, and as we all know they require a lot of time and attention, not to mention shaving your legs on a regular basis. So I have embraced this solitary life and I'm trying to redefine who I am daily. If I could have one wish it would be to be energized and healthy for a season so I could spread my wings and do a little flying of my own.

A MID SUMMERS NIGHT DREAM

A Mid Summers Night Dream 1935~ James Cagney as Bottom and Anita Louise as  Titania

Aw.. To sleep perchance to dream....yes I know that is Hamlet but at least it is from Shakespeare.Of course my favorite Shakespeare play of all time is A Mid Summers Night Dream. My love of magical woodlands filled with faeries has no bounds. The film I love the best is the old black and white 1935 version. Actually it is amazing what they accomplished with the limited special effects of that era.  The summer solstice( today) has always been a special day for me. I suppose it brings out the long smothered pagan roots of my Irish/Celtic ancestors. Even as I child I wanted to dance under the moonlight with the fireflies and the little people who lived in the ferns.  I remember my Granny Parton telling me that she had seen cats dance one time in the moonlight through her bedroom window. I was enthralled with the story and would climb in bed with her and have her to tell me about it every time I visited her. She would tell me how one night when she couldn't sleep and was restless that she heard some strange music in the woods.

source Jamie Shelman

The moon was big and full and it was a warm  windy Autumn night and the clouds were rolling fast across the face of  the moon.The music got a little louder and she could see something moving near the pine trees. When the clouds passed the moon and its beams shone down into the clearing, she saw the cats- two of them, standing on their hind legs dancing. Granny had much clout with me after this tale. I waited on her hand and foot.  This is the same Granny for whom I named this blog. She was bedridden most of her life and for as long as I could remember she never left the bed. Hanging above her bed was what I refer to as the framed holy trinity collection : Jesus, John F. Kennedy (she was the only Democrat in the family at that time) and Dolly. Yes that Dolly.  Her bed was a like an oasis of treasures... she kept all her favorite things in a box beside her and if you were lucky and she wasn't in a foul mood, she might let you dig through her box. I remember she always had a box of Corn Flakes with the big red rooster on the front, Juicy Fruit gum, hard candies, a guitar pick, brush and mirror, a yucky saccharin sweetener (she was diabetic), a bible, old photos, a lock of her dead daughters hair  and a jar of Ponds cold cream. Granny had the most beautiful skin I had ever seen. She did not have a wrinkle on her face. Her needle kit, on the other hand, scared me to death. She reused the same needle (long before the days of  disposables) and it seemed to be as big as a pencil. She had a whet stone on which she sharpened the end of the needle. I couldn't look when she would give her self the shot. I still cant stand to see a needle enter the skin... I have had my hands in dead bodies, yet a needle brings me to an immediate cold sweat. Granny was prone to  severe mood swings and you did not want to be in the path of one of her raging fits, she was a "thrower". If she got too mad you might just get that jar of cold cream up the side of  your head, or worse a jar of something else...I will let you think on that one. Bed pans grew wings sometimes if the argument was heated enough.  She had 12 children and dozens of grandchildren. I would climb into her bed and read her favorite bible verses. Occasionally she would share some tidbit from the box, but not often. She protected her stuff like a pit bull, but I guess she had to. Her life was a series of tragedies that I hope I can write more about some day, but not tonight.  For tonight is dedicated to past memories of warm summer nights spent with old friends and loved ones before Fibro, hPOTS, CFS and all the other robbers of my soul and energy invaded my life. I long to sit by the pond beneath the moonlight and listen to the frogs, crickets and Nightingales in the hollow again.  But my Granny bed calls... and I saw some fresh bear scat (poop) in the hollow yesterday so I think I will just pop in my 1935 copy of A Mid Summers Night Dream and slap some Ponds on my face and call it the longest day of the year.

Great Smoky Mountains Synchronized Fireflies are here!

Time lapsed photo of Elkmont Fireflies

Once a year a spectacular sight occurs in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Beginning in early June and continuing for approximately two weeks the Synchronous Fireflies begin their annual mating ritual. Only discovered in the past fifteen years or so, these fireflies are like no other. The above photograph gives you an idea of the magnitude of the beauty of the light show.  There are many species of fireflies in our area and around the world. These particular ones, Photinus Carolinus, are only found in this area of the Smokies and in Southeast Asia. That in itself is quite miraculous.  As a child in the east Tennessee hills, one of our rights of passage was to get a JFG Mayonnaise jar washed and prepped with a few holes in the lid and wait on nightfall.
Soon the twinkle of one lone Lightning Bug (some people call them fireflies, I call them lightning bugs..) would signal the hunt. We collected them in the stinky jar ( the jars always stunk, no matter how well you washed them) with a few blades of grass, only to find them dead as a door nail the next morning. This always saddened me and maybe this is the root of my lifelong guilt- Judy:  Lightning Bug killer....snuffer of life. But I would try again and again to domesticate the little boogers with no success.
 But back to the Elkmont Synchronized Fireflies.  As i said earlier, they first appear early June and are active for about two weeks. This time frame depends on the weather. Last year they peaked their activity in late May and were completely through the cycle by June, which lead to thousands of disappointed people with tickets to see the show. Yes, I said tickets. The event has become so popular and out of control that the National Park Service had to implement a Firefly viewing program. The only area they appear in is near the Elkmont Campground in the Smokies. You have to walk into the forest located off of of a small road above the campground. When the news of the fireflies hit the presses, thousands of people began to pour into this tiny area. The end result was classically human : trash, noise, alcohol (what's a light show without a buzz), hundreds of cars emitting pollutants, fights, etc...etc.... and of course all these great nature explorers had flash lights, and worse- flash photography. Nothing is as stupid as thinking you can be in total darkness and take a picture of something this delicate and aloof, but by Gawd the tourists think they can. Why is this a problem? Because any light from other sources interfere with the flashing pattern of the firefly and send them into mass confusion. So finally the Park Service (thank God) said "enough". Two years ago, after seeing over seven thousand people try to converge into the small area in ten days, they started a ticket/reservation only process.  Trolleys from Gatlinburg take those with tickets to the area and drop them off. Each person is educated in proper "firefly viewing etiquette", You place red tinted plastic wrap over your flashlights.   You see all this flashing and beautiful activity is about sex. Isn't everything?  They have a two week period to mate and then the males die. I will try to describe it to you, as most will never experience this phenomenon. At about 9:30, you will see them start to move and flash just above the forest floor they increase quickly and at this point they look like every other lightning bug.. no big whoop. But within an hour or so, you realize they are hundreds, if not thousands of them all around you. Soon they start the dance. The males stay in the air, varying in height from a couple of feet to ten feet or so. The females are in the ground cover. Have you ever seen Close Encounters of the Third Kind? This is what it reminds me of, sans the music. They begin a pulsating light show. Kind of like synchronized Christmas Lights, but oh my so much more beautiful. Mother Nature at one of her finest hours, in my opinion.  One group(hundreds) will   flash for about six seconds and go totally black, then the group in another area will flash.

No words can describe it and no camera can capture it fully. Once I saw them cascade above a river in a waterfall pattern from the top of the trees to the bottom. They were reflecting in the water as well.  It was spectacular. I felt like I was in space and stars were flying by my head. Me and my old Park Service buddies try to get together every year or so to enjoy them.  There is another specie, Plausis Reticulata, the Blue Ghost Firefly. Now this is a creature of beauty beyond compare. Again, they are mating and searching for the female in the under growth. The first time I spotted one I was overwhelmed. They do not flash. They stay illuminated and hover over the ground , flying sometimes at head level. When they drop to the forest floor searching for the female, they appear to turn a luminous blue color. If you stand still in the darkness they will literally float above your feet and they appear to fluff out and they look like grapefruit size blue balls of cotton candy. Swear to God i was not on LSD.  The way the light reflects off the ground seems to enlarge their size and makes them hazy in appearance.  It is absolutely the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Many have tried and failed to photograph them , but some things cannot and should not be captured, even on film.  This weekend begins the annual event in the Smokies. If you have not already gotten your golden  ticket it is probably too late. If you are serious and would like to see them in the future, I would recommend you camp anytime the first two weeks of June in Elkmont.All roads to the campground are blocked every night and registered guests only are allowed to enter.  But you cant wait until early spring and think you will get a reservation, you must plan ahead. If you are already in the campground you can just walk to the viewing area and avoid the madness of the Trolley shuttles. 

Bet You Can't Eat Just One

Yep...that about says it all. I have been on an eat-a-thon of epic proportions. I feel like one of those weird creatures from Stephen Kings book "The Langoliers", nothing has escaped my ravenous hunger for about a week.  I continue to drag my exhausted body to work everyday and pray for strength to make it home.  I have so much going on that I cant even think about taking a few days off to try to rest and recharge. Unfortunately, I seem to turn to my old deadly friends carbs and sugars to give me a temporary boost to get me through the day. Today I found myself in a situation of being in a sitting position at our off site building that is under construction. I was alone and went to check the progress, I felt a POTSY moment and sit down on a milk crate for a few minutes. Then much to my distress, I couldn't get up...my legs were not strong enough to lift the load. After a few minutes of thrashing around  like Ralphies little brother in the snowsuit (A Christmas Story reference, I use them often) I finally manged to get up. Damn. Not only has my hair turned silver, now I'm going to have to get a "Ive fallen and I cant get up" necklace. It's days like these that I change my mind and say to hell with the side effects of surgery, I'm having the gastric sleeve....I refuse to buy another pair of even fatter pants. I eat when I feel stressed, lonely, sad, bored,angry, depressed, etc... so basically every emotion elicits the addiction for me to satiate my self with carbs and sugars.  I'm angry at myself for having so little control in that area of my life when in other area's I am a complete control freak.  I was, in my old life,  the one that would take care of everyone's problems... I made them go away. I was a one woman Mafia...no more. Even though I still gravitate toward a feeble attempt at my self appointed role of General Manager of the Universe, I simply don't have it in me any longer. Some folks In my life think that I have becoming too apathetic...and maybe I am to a certain degree. I just don't have the energy to feel much these days.  But  tomorrow is another day, so I will try to start the withdrawal process of sugar that usually takes me a couple to three days to complete.  For now I yearn for the comfort of the Granny Bed.

GIVING UP ON TODAY