Low-blood sugar is the worst feeling. And it's a weird thing. You're sweating profusely. You can't think straight. All your muscles get very weak. You can't make decisions. You have black spots in your vision. You can't remember the words you want to say. You're conscious but see pictures in your head instead of what's in front of you. And you get ravenous.
At its worst I hallucinate. One of the recent worst episodes I've had was when I awoke from a nap and realized I was really low. Made it down the stairs but by that time the hallucinations had kicked in. There were people in my living room at the bottom of the stairs guiding me into the kitchen because I couldn't remember what I was supposed to do. It took me a few seconds to know they were hallucinations, at least having enough conscious awareness left to figure it out after I tried to ask them who they were. They just told me "Go that way" and pointed to the kitchen. Then I told myself, "Oh yeah, I need to eat something. And they're not real." It's a little weird. My low-blood sugar hallucinations are always about people around me helping me, getting me up, getting me to eat something. Maybe they are real. Spirit helpers? Maybe. It's a nice thought.
Time gets really slowed down too. One time I "came to" while standing in the kitchen staring at a jar of peanut butter. I don't know how long I was standing there. I had forgotten that I had to actually open the jar first. Was just waiting for the peanut butter.
It can be funny when I wake up in the middle of the night with low blood sugar. I only have vague memories of being in the kitchen eating when this happens but the real evidence of what went on comes the next morning.
One morning I was doing my usual thing, getting ready for work, when I noticed my lunch bag was already packed. It had all kinds of stuff in it and I wondered how that happened. Then I remembered I had a low blood-sugar episode during the night. It explained what I'd found in my lunch bag!
Smarties, gummy bears, a cookie, caramel corn, marshmallows, Wheat Thins, Pop-Tarts, an orange, oatmeal, and a jar of peanut butter.
I don't remember doing that, but apparently while I was rummaging through the kitchen in one of my hallucinatory low blood-sugar ravenous states I must have thought it a good idea to pack my lunch for the next day. Gee, how thoughtful of me!
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
IF YOU DO THIS, TRY THIS
I accidentally tossed the lid to the margarine tub onto a still-hot burner on my glass top stove. Within seconds it started to melt. I pulled it off and what was left was warped. Boy, did I ever feel stupid! I’m constantly reminding my kids, “Don’t touch that, it’s still hot” and here I go and do something like this.
Not only did my 3 pound tub of margarine now no longer have a lid, but the ink from the label had transferred to the stove top!
I tried to gently scrape it off while it was still hot but it was definitely stuck on there. Even after it completely cooled, washing it didn’t work. I didn't know what to do. I was so embarrassed for having been so stupid.
Fortunately by pure accident I found an ingenious way to completely remove the impression! A couple weeks later I needed to use that same burner--the little one in the back that hardly ever gets used--and when I was finished I didn’t even notice the stain on the stove was gone. It wasn’t until I was loading up the dishwasher when I saw the back of the sauce pan I’d used. The entire impression was now permanently imprinted onto the bottom of the pot!
Not only did my 3 pound tub of margarine now no longer have a lid, but the ink from the label had transferred to the stove top!
I tried to gently scrape it off while it was still hot but it was definitely stuck on there. Even after it completely cooled, washing it didn’t work. I didn't know what to do. I was so embarrassed for having been so stupid.
Fortunately by pure accident I found an ingenious way to completely remove the impression! A couple weeks later I needed to use that same burner--the little one in the back that hardly ever gets used--and when I was finished I didn’t even notice the stain on the stove was gone. It wasn’t until I was loading up the dishwasher when I saw the back of the sauce pan I’d used. The entire impression was now permanently imprinted onto the bottom of the pot!
Thursday, May 1, 2014
WHAT NOT TO BRING
Sorry I haven't posted for a while. Although my psychic project and book are still coming along nicely I haven't been keeping up with blogging, and I'm sorry about that. But I have some normal life stuff to share, funny stuff. Gotta have a sense of humor to keep you going in life, right?
Ok, so last month I had to make a stop at the courthouse to pick up a form. My ex surprised me with an official court petition to modify our child support, so I had to go get a form and file my response. Anyway, I totally spaced it that there are security scanners at the courthouse. Oops.
I had the kids with me. Thought it'd be fun to take the long way there, highway 93, and let the kids each drive one way. They loved it. We had a blast. Anyway, back to the security scanner.
If I had remembered the security screening I would have cleaned out my purse. I can't even remember the last time I cleaned out my purse. So of course, of all the people in line they pick me to pull aside to do an extra search. Why? That's just my luck. And oh yeah, it was my purse.
So the guy stops me and asks if he can look through my purse, after it had already gone through the x-ray machine. Of course I tell him yes. I mean, do I really have a choice at this point? My kids are standing behind me, Abby asking me under her breath why they want to look through my purse. And of course I have no idea why.
He says to me hesitantly as if he's trying to figure out just the right wording to ask his question, "Do you have, like, a bunch of...change or something?" And I'm thinking of course I have change, who doesn't?
So I say, "Why? Did you see a bunch of tiny little faces?"
Ok, I didn't really say that but I thought it and that would have been totally funny except the look on his face told me it wasn't the best time to be cracking jokes.
I simply said "Yeah I do." I had to bite my lip not to laugh because I imagined saying the joke and it had me laughing on the inside.
So he was even hesitant to do the looking, made me open my purse and unzip another smaller purse where I have, yes, a bunch of change. He then carefully looked inside, carefully combed his hand through it with his head tilted a little back as if he was expecting something to jump out at him. It was then that it dawned on me that maybe certain devices hidden in change are undetectable on an x-ray machine???
He felt satisfied that I had no weapons or bomb-making materials or whatever he thought I might have hidden in all that change. I have to admit, it was an awkward amount of change. I really should clean out my purse more often.
He then proceeded to do a search of the rest of my purse, as if the I-have-enough-change-to-spend-hours-up-in-Black Hawk scene wasn't embarrassing enough. So at this point Abby's leaning in my ear again, this time saying, "This is so embarrassing! Even the sketchy-looking guy in handcuffs didn't get searched as much as we are!" I said, "There's a guy in handcuffs?" a little too loudly. Oops.
So back to my purse. Let's see. Besides all the usual stuff like eyeglass lens wipes, ChapStick, empty gum wrappers, and old sticky notes...I had 9 blue ink pens. (Wow, no wonder I can never find a pen at home.) Two used injection needles. (Niiice! That looks great while getting singled out for a search.) About 50 paper clips. (I have no idea). A light bulb. (Really? Who carries a light bulb around in their purse?) Oh yeah, and a bag of gummy bears (emergency low-blood sugar snack. Two carbs per bear--easy to count the carbs that way) even though the signs clearly state "no food or drink beyond this point".
If all those things are suspicious for being dangerous for some reason, well I'm not smart enough to know how.
He pulled out the bag of gummy bears, held it up to the light inspecting it and said, "Don't eat those in there, you'll get in trouble," and he let me go. It definitely was a little embarrassing. But I'm glad he didn't make me throw away my gummy bears. Love those things!
Yep, I cleaned out my purse when I got home.
Ok, so last month I had to make a stop at the courthouse to pick up a form. My ex surprised me with an official court petition to modify our child support, so I had to go get a form and file my response. Anyway, I totally spaced it that there are security scanners at the courthouse. Oops.
I had the kids with me. Thought it'd be fun to take the long way there, highway 93, and let the kids each drive one way. They loved it. We had a blast. Anyway, back to the security scanner.
If I had remembered the security screening I would have cleaned out my purse. I can't even remember the last time I cleaned out my purse. So of course, of all the people in line they pick me to pull aside to do an extra search. Why? That's just my luck. And oh yeah, it was my purse.
So the guy stops me and asks if he can look through my purse, after it had already gone through the x-ray machine. Of course I tell him yes. I mean, do I really have a choice at this point? My kids are standing behind me, Abby asking me under her breath why they want to look through my purse. And of course I have no idea why.
He says to me hesitantly as if he's trying to figure out just the right wording to ask his question, "Do you have, like, a bunch of...change or something?" And I'm thinking of course I have change, who doesn't?
So I say, "Why? Did you see a bunch of tiny little faces?"
Ok, I didn't really say that but I thought it and that would have been totally funny except the look on his face told me it wasn't the best time to be cracking jokes.
I simply said "Yeah I do." I had to bite my lip not to laugh because I imagined saying the joke and it had me laughing on the inside.
So he was even hesitant to do the looking, made me open my purse and unzip another smaller purse where I have, yes, a bunch of change. He then carefully looked inside, carefully combed his hand through it with his head tilted a little back as if he was expecting something to jump out at him. It was then that it dawned on me that maybe certain devices hidden in change are undetectable on an x-ray machine???
He felt satisfied that I had no weapons or bomb-making materials or whatever he thought I might have hidden in all that change. I have to admit, it was an awkward amount of change. I really should clean out my purse more often.
He then proceeded to do a search of the rest of my purse, as if the I-have-enough-change-to-spend-hours-up-in-Black Hawk scene wasn't embarrassing enough. So at this point Abby's leaning in my ear again, this time saying, "This is so embarrassing! Even the sketchy-looking guy in handcuffs didn't get searched as much as we are!" I said, "There's a guy in handcuffs?" a little too loudly. Oops.
So back to my purse. Let's see. Besides all the usual stuff like eyeglass lens wipes, ChapStick, empty gum wrappers, and old sticky notes...I had 9 blue ink pens. (Wow, no wonder I can never find a pen at home.) Two used injection needles. (Niiice! That looks great while getting singled out for a search.) About 50 paper clips. (I have no idea). A light bulb. (Really? Who carries a light bulb around in their purse?) Oh yeah, and a bag of gummy bears (emergency low-blood sugar snack. Two carbs per bear--easy to count the carbs that way) even though the signs clearly state "no food or drink beyond this point".
If all those things are suspicious for being dangerous for some reason, well I'm not smart enough to know how.
He pulled out the bag of gummy bears, held it up to the light inspecting it and said, "Don't eat those in there, you'll get in trouble," and he let me go. It definitely was a little embarrassing. But I'm glad he didn't make me throw away my gummy bears. Love those things!
Yep, I cleaned out my purse when I got home.
Friday, September 13, 2013
ALL OF THE ABOVE
Second-hand re-telling of a traumatic event? Priceless snapshot into the private lives of one family? A memorable moment in time in the middle of an otherwise typical day? I don't embellish my stories. This one is all of the above. Whatever you want to call it, I think you won't find this story anywhere else.
My daughter and I ended up in a new hair salon--unsure if we really should wait the 20 minutes for the 60s-aged man ahead of us to finish getting what little hair he had left permed. I had a feeling, though, that we should stay. We were the next customers in a family-run salon. While we waited Abby flipped through hair-photo books. Finally it was her turn. The woman washed Abby's hair and seated her in a chair. A maybe-20-something young woman walked in and began tidying up. And a few minutes after that a high-school-aged boy came bursting in announcing "I have to tell someone what happened to me!" At first I didn't connect that they all were family, and in fact thought the boy was just some obnoxious teenager wanting attention. But it was apparent as he walked over to the young woman, who seemed to pay him no attention as she went about her work, that these people were all related. Not wanting to appear nosy, I watched Abby as the hairdresser and her discussed Abby's wishes to turn the long hair which framed her face into bangs.
All this talk about hair--which I had trouble following because I couldn't understand Abby's description of how she wanted her hair cut but I was thankful the hairdresser did--made me think the word "bangs" was funny and wondered how they came up with that word. And how in Britain it's called a "fringe" and how the Brits must think the word "bangs" is funny. Then I thought "fringe" sounded funny too. Which made me wonder what I would call them if I had to choose. I couldn't come up with my own new word and decided that "fringe" made the most sense. I heard the high-school boy repeat that he needed to tell everyone something, but no one said anything to him.
After the ten seconds or so of my realizing I'd be a terrible hair dresser and of my word fantasizing, the teenaged boy had whirled around the two rows of chairs in the middle of the room without pausing and had made his way straight toward me as if I had been his intended target from the moment he walked through the door.
His mother, I assumed, didn't give him one moment of her time, not even to say hello. I got the impression he visited often enough and that business is business which had to be done. Still, he was a nice-looking, thin, and outgoing bundle of energy, and obviously old enough to drive on his own, who desperately wanted someone to listen. I wondered what nationality this family was when suddenly the boy held out his hand and introduced himself. His name didn't help answer my question, and I couldn't even begin to pronounce it, let alone spell it.
Wow! A teenage boy being so polite, mature, and direct. I loved it! I returned his warm smile and handshake, introduced myself and said, "So what happened to you? I can't wait to hear it!" The boy sat down and dove into a long, detailed account of the past couple days of events that had obviously had a very big impact on him---and I tell you, all teenagers are alike. If you aren't paying close attention and listening fast, you're going to miss half of what they're saying! I think I caught most of it, the gist of it anyway. I'll paraphrase as best I can....
"Ok, last night I was up late finishing my video game and, well the night before I was driving home and I saw a bad accident. I know this is foreshadowing because it was just too coincidental. I didn't stop at the accident because well for one thing, there were other people there to help, but I also knew myself that I wasn't ready to handle something like that. I was just like, telling myself "I can't do this, I don't want this kind of experience yet" so I just kept going. I felt bad about that, but I didn't know this would be foreshadowing what was going to happen next. Ok, so I was finishing my video game last night and about to put it away, and my window was open because I had opened it earlier. I normally don't open the left side of my window but it was open tonight for some reason, so after I stopped my game I heard a weird sound like something wasn't right. And I told myself, "Ok, that didn't sound normal." I looked out the window and saw this car had just crashed right outside my window like right in front of our house! I didn't even think, I just ran out, and I had to run like this to get out (and he's showing me with his finger the layout of his house and how he ran through the house and out the door), and the next thing I know I'm standing in front of this car that's upside down like hanging from a tree.
I told the girl, I was like, "Ok, I have a phone, it's ok" And I called 911 because I was the first person there! So I was doing what I was supposed to do and then I realized this is just like what happened last night except that I chose not to get involved because I wasn't ready for it, you know? But here I was all by myself because no one else had shown up and I was the only person there to help, so after I got off the phone a man showed up and I guess he was an undercover cop or something who just happened to be in the area. He told me it was ok and I could calm down because he was there and he would handle everything, and I was like "I called 911. I did the right thing." I was so nervous and shaking and couldn't believe that I was standing there because like, I didn't plan on doing that, I just did it.
So the cop kind of got mad at me when I took a couple pictures with my phone, but I was like, "Hey, I'm a teenager! I didn't mean to be rude, I didn't think about it, but you don't see something like this all the time so I just took a picture." And he was like, telling me I shouldn't do that. So while we were waiting for the ambulance to get there the girl in the car, she's hanging upside down strapped in her seat belt and she's confused and everything, and I mean it was really bad. She must have lost control of the car because she went through my neighbor's back yard and just tore up the whole back yard. And they weren't even home because they're still on vacation so they have no idea that their whole back yard is all messed up, and like she went through the fence and through the lawn and somehow ended up hitting a tree and flipping the car over. So she's just hanging there and the cop was like trying to see what he could do and then she just unlatches her seat belt without even thinking, I mean no one wanted her to do that. And then she just falls, right onto her head and neck."
By this time the sister had stopped what she was doing and was sitting next to him, completely engaged in the story, obviously hearing it for the first time. I myself was thoroughly enjoying it! His mom, still concentrating on my daughter's hair, occasionally glanced at him and obviously as intrigued as we were.
"And I knew it was bad because I could hear it when she fell and it made this awful noise, and I was like, "Oh man, oh man, this is so bad." And I was just so glad that that cop was there because I could feel myself panicking and not knowing what to do. And so when the ambulance and emergency medical people came, and they were helping her, she had lost all feeling from her neck down. She was paralyzed and couldn't feel anything and I knew it had been so bad that she let herself out of her seat belt. I mean, she shouldn't have done that and now here she was saying she had no feeling in her whole body. And the helicopter had to take her away, and I was like losing it. I mean I lost it. I was crying and crying and not knowing what to do. So I decided to call my mom, because I was like, I need my mom!, I don't know what to do. So I called my mom and I was crying and saying, 'Mom, Mom, oh my God, I don't know what to do, I need you.' And I was just crying and crying."
His mother turned around and said in disbelief, "That was you?? I had no idea that was you! All I know is, I'm just minding my own business when I get a phone call from some hysterical girl who's crying into the phone and I can't even understand a word she's saying. So I was like, oh it's probably one of (the son's name that I can't pronounce nor spell) friends, what's he done now? He's made some girl very upset about something and now she's calling and crying to me about it! So I just hung up, because I was like, I don't have time for this. I don't want all this drama."
Abby was pinching her lips together to try not to laugh, and I was already snickering, but no one else was laughing. The thought ran though my mind that perhaps we were being set up on some hidden camera show because this was all just too hilarious. The boy continued.....
"Yeah, so apparently I was the hysterical girl crying into the phone and now my Mom just hung up on me so now I don't know what to do because I really needed my mom and she just hangs up on me when I need her the most. So here I am standing there just crying and crying and just wanting my mom."
And at this point in the boy's non-pause story the mother broke in again and said, "Well I didn't know it was you! I just didn't want any part of whatever drama was going on this time."
And that's when I couldn't help myself. I lost it. Here was this family not trying to be funny and I completely lose it. But it was just too funny. I realized the story of the car crash was as new to them as it was to me, but Abby and I were right in the middle of this family drama by happenstance, so we were more entertained by the family dynamics than intrigued by the story of the car accident. An obviously very close and loving family, but I think it's safe to say these two women were probably used to hearing their fair share of drama from this boy!
I thanked him for engaging me, for sharing his experience and showing me the photos he managed to take before the cop reamed him about it. It really did look like a very bad accident. I hope the young woman in the car will be all right.
My daughter and I ended up in a new hair salon--unsure if we really should wait the 20 minutes for the 60s-aged man ahead of us to finish getting what little hair he had left permed. I had a feeling, though, that we should stay. We were the next customers in a family-run salon. While we waited Abby flipped through hair-photo books. Finally it was her turn. The woman washed Abby's hair and seated her in a chair. A maybe-20-something young woman walked in and began tidying up. And a few minutes after that a high-school-aged boy came bursting in announcing "I have to tell someone what happened to me!" At first I didn't connect that they all were family, and in fact thought the boy was just some obnoxious teenager wanting attention. But it was apparent as he walked over to the young woman, who seemed to pay him no attention as she went about her work, that these people were all related. Not wanting to appear nosy, I watched Abby as the hairdresser and her discussed Abby's wishes to turn the long hair which framed her face into bangs.
All this talk about hair--which I had trouble following because I couldn't understand Abby's description of how she wanted her hair cut but I was thankful the hairdresser did--made me think the word "bangs" was funny and wondered how they came up with that word. And how in Britain it's called a "fringe" and how the Brits must think the word "bangs" is funny. Then I thought "fringe" sounded funny too. Which made me wonder what I would call them if I had to choose. I couldn't come up with my own new word and decided that "fringe" made the most sense. I heard the high-school boy repeat that he needed to tell everyone something, but no one said anything to him.
After the ten seconds or so of my realizing I'd be a terrible hair dresser and of my word fantasizing, the teenaged boy had whirled around the two rows of chairs in the middle of the room without pausing and had made his way straight toward me as if I had been his intended target from the moment he walked through the door.
His mother, I assumed, didn't give him one moment of her time, not even to say hello. I got the impression he visited often enough and that business is business which had to be done. Still, he was a nice-looking, thin, and outgoing bundle of energy, and obviously old enough to drive on his own, who desperately wanted someone to listen. I wondered what nationality this family was when suddenly the boy held out his hand and introduced himself. His name didn't help answer my question, and I couldn't even begin to pronounce it, let alone spell it.
Wow! A teenage boy being so polite, mature, and direct. I loved it! I returned his warm smile and handshake, introduced myself and said, "So what happened to you? I can't wait to hear it!" The boy sat down and dove into a long, detailed account of the past couple days of events that had obviously had a very big impact on him---and I tell you, all teenagers are alike. If you aren't paying close attention and listening fast, you're going to miss half of what they're saying! I think I caught most of it, the gist of it anyway. I'll paraphrase as best I can....
"Ok, last night I was up late finishing my video game and, well the night before I was driving home and I saw a bad accident. I know this is foreshadowing because it was just too coincidental. I didn't stop at the accident because well for one thing, there were other people there to help, but I also knew myself that I wasn't ready to handle something like that. I was just like, telling myself "I can't do this, I don't want this kind of experience yet" so I just kept going. I felt bad about that, but I didn't know this would be foreshadowing what was going to happen next. Ok, so I was finishing my video game last night and about to put it away, and my window was open because I had opened it earlier. I normally don't open the left side of my window but it was open tonight for some reason, so after I stopped my game I heard a weird sound like something wasn't right. And I told myself, "Ok, that didn't sound normal." I looked out the window and saw this car had just crashed right outside my window like right in front of our house! I didn't even think, I just ran out, and I had to run like this to get out (and he's showing me with his finger the layout of his house and how he ran through the house and out the door), and the next thing I know I'm standing in front of this car that's upside down like hanging from a tree.
I told the girl, I was like, "Ok, I have a phone, it's ok" And I called 911 because I was the first person there! So I was doing what I was supposed to do and then I realized this is just like what happened last night except that I chose not to get involved because I wasn't ready for it, you know? But here I was all by myself because no one else had shown up and I was the only person there to help, so after I got off the phone a man showed up and I guess he was an undercover cop or something who just happened to be in the area. He told me it was ok and I could calm down because he was there and he would handle everything, and I was like "I called 911. I did the right thing." I was so nervous and shaking and couldn't believe that I was standing there because like, I didn't plan on doing that, I just did it.
So the cop kind of got mad at me when I took a couple pictures with my phone, but I was like, "Hey, I'm a teenager! I didn't mean to be rude, I didn't think about it, but you don't see something like this all the time so I just took a picture." And he was like, telling me I shouldn't do that. So while we were waiting for the ambulance to get there the girl in the car, she's hanging upside down strapped in her seat belt and she's confused and everything, and I mean it was really bad. She must have lost control of the car because she went through my neighbor's back yard and just tore up the whole back yard. And they weren't even home because they're still on vacation so they have no idea that their whole back yard is all messed up, and like she went through the fence and through the lawn and somehow ended up hitting a tree and flipping the car over. So she's just hanging there and the cop was like trying to see what he could do and then she just unlatches her seat belt without even thinking, I mean no one wanted her to do that. And then she just falls, right onto her head and neck."
By this time the sister had stopped what she was doing and was sitting next to him, completely engaged in the story, obviously hearing it for the first time. I myself was thoroughly enjoying it! His mom, still concentrating on my daughter's hair, occasionally glanced at him and obviously as intrigued as we were.
"And I knew it was bad because I could hear it when she fell and it made this awful noise, and I was like, "Oh man, oh man, this is so bad." And I was just so glad that that cop was there because I could feel myself panicking and not knowing what to do. And so when the ambulance and emergency medical people came, and they were helping her, she had lost all feeling from her neck down. She was paralyzed and couldn't feel anything and I knew it had been so bad that she let herself out of her seat belt. I mean, she shouldn't have done that and now here she was saying she had no feeling in her whole body. And the helicopter had to take her away, and I was like losing it. I mean I lost it. I was crying and crying and not knowing what to do. So I decided to call my mom, because I was like, I need my mom!, I don't know what to do. So I called my mom and I was crying and saying, 'Mom, Mom, oh my God, I don't know what to do, I need you.' And I was just crying and crying."
His mother turned around and said in disbelief, "That was you?? I had no idea that was you! All I know is, I'm just minding my own business when I get a phone call from some hysterical girl who's crying into the phone and I can't even understand a word she's saying. So I was like, oh it's probably one of (the son's name that I can't pronounce nor spell) friends, what's he done now? He's made some girl very upset about something and now she's calling and crying to me about it! So I just hung up, because I was like, I don't have time for this. I don't want all this drama."
Abby was pinching her lips together to try not to laugh, and I was already snickering, but no one else was laughing. The thought ran though my mind that perhaps we were being set up on some hidden camera show because this was all just too hilarious. The boy continued.....
"Yeah, so apparently I was the hysterical girl crying into the phone and now my Mom just hung up on me so now I don't know what to do because I really needed my mom and she just hangs up on me when I need her the most. So here I am standing there just crying and crying and just wanting my mom."
And at this point in the boy's non-pause story the mother broke in again and said, "Well I didn't know it was you! I just didn't want any part of whatever drama was going on this time."
And that's when I couldn't help myself. I lost it. Here was this family not trying to be funny and I completely lose it. But it was just too funny. I realized the story of the car crash was as new to them as it was to me, but Abby and I were right in the middle of this family drama by happenstance, so we were more entertained by the family dynamics than intrigued by the story of the car accident. An obviously very close and loving family, but I think it's safe to say these two women were probably used to hearing their fair share of drama from this boy!
I thanked him for engaging me, for sharing his experience and showing me the photos he managed to take before the cop reamed him about it. It really did look like a very bad accident. I hope the young woman in the car will be all right.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
MEDICAL INTUITION
I wonder why I get psychic information about some things, but not others. Even when it comes to bad things---things I don't want to happen but are going to happen anyway, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it--if I receive information psychically about it, there's usually a feeling of "but everything's going to be ok". It's weird. It's frustrating to be told about something in advance that you won't have any control over, but there's something very exciting about receiving the feeling of comfort, of knowing there's a reason and knowing everything really is going to be ok.
Prior to each unexpected surgery I've had, I was aware of it psychically days or weeks in advance. A couple days before my son was born, I knew something was wrong with him--- that I'd need a c-section and that he'd have a birth defect---even though everyone including my doctor assured me that every expectant mother has these fears. I told them this was different than worry or fear, that I could actually feel something was wrong. Two days later during routine labor, I was rushed into an emergency c-section. My baby was in cardiac distress, and after he was born he was found to have a malformed trachea and esophagus, requiring surgery.
Less than a year later, I was told psychically each day for two months that I had a tumor in my lungs! One night I awoke coughing up blood and rushed to the ER. They found a tumor growing inside my left lower lung, which had to be removed in order to get rid of the entire mass which had broken blood vessels, filling my lungs with blood.
Six weeks ago---to the exact day of the lung resection seventeen years ago---I had an acute appendicitis. For several weeks prior, I had a foreboding feeling that an appendicitis was coming, although I had no symptoms or pain to indicate it. It was purely by intuition. I felt a lack of energy and a general sense of malaise, but no pain. Each time I wondered what could be wrong with me appendicitis popped into my head. But I had absolutely no pain!
I tried to tune into this idea, psychically, to try and validate or verify somehow that my thoughts of an appendicitis were not just an irrational fear or worry, and what I got was the distinct feeling that my body was in some process of change that would culminate into something medical requiring surgery. Appendicitis came into my mind again and again. I finally just accepted that if the appendicitis was coming, there was nothing I could do to prevent it. With no pain or fever, I doubt any tests would have shown an appendicitis yet. I felt that doing nothing was my best choice. Why try to stave off a possible inflamed appendix with antibiotics? Would my doctor have even suggested it? It seems better to just let the process happen, get the surgery, and have it be over with!
So, when the acute appendicitis finally started happening I wasn't surprised. I was just mad that I'd have to have another surgery!
After the surgery, I did some research on the Internet to find out if it was possible to feel the onset of an appendicitis with no symptoms other than general fatigue and malaise, and so far the only precursors I've seen mentioned involve severe pain. I had no pain in the weeks before the appendicitis. These stories on the Internet were of people being rushed to the ER in severe pain only to be told everything was fine, and not end up actually having the appendicitis until weeks or months later!
That's what prevented me from rushing to the ER that night. When the pain started, I thought, Ok here it is. This is it. It's real. Now what do I do? I was afraid of going to the hospital and being told they couldn't find anything wrong with me yet. So I waited as long as I could, six hours, until I just couldn't take the pain any longer.
The pain had started suddenly at midnight, and by just past 6:00 a.m. I phoned my mom to come and take me to the ER. By then I had most of the classic symptoms--severe pain, bloating, bowel movements, vomiting, and fever--and was not only certain it was my appendix, but was also certain the ER docs would be able to identify it quickly. And with lab tests and a CAT scan, they did. All in all, everything went well. No rupture, and I was released home the next day. Afterwards, I asked how long in advance do you feel symptoms of an appendicitis and was told that it is possible to have "chronic appendicitis" with severe pain, but that in the case of an acute appendicitis you're not going to feel it until it's happening. So, it seems that my foreboding feeling of an upcoming appendicitis---with absolutely no pain---was indeed a psychic feeling.
If I had gone to the ER or even to see my family doc a few weeks earlier, and told them I think I'm going to be having an appendicitis, I wonder what they would have said! Ha ha! It would have been great to have that documented, but then again, why waste a copay?
Hopefully this is the last surgery I'll ever have, but I'm fairly confident that if it isn't, I'll know about it before it happens. What good will it do me? I don't know. But I like to believe that there's a reason for everything. When I psychically receive information about something that I can't do anything about, there must be a reason for it. Usually there's a feeling of comfort that comes along with it. Such as to say, "This is what's coming. It'll be scary, but don't worry. Everything's going to be ok." And I like that. That's good enough for me.
Prior to each unexpected surgery I've had, I was aware of it psychically days or weeks in advance. A couple days before my son was born, I knew something was wrong with him--- that I'd need a c-section and that he'd have a birth defect---even though everyone including my doctor assured me that every expectant mother has these fears. I told them this was different than worry or fear, that I could actually feel something was wrong. Two days later during routine labor, I was rushed into an emergency c-section. My baby was in cardiac distress, and after he was born he was found to have a malformed trachea and esophagus, requiring surgery.
Less than a year later, I was told psychically each day for two months that I had a tumor in my lungs! One night I awoke coughing up blood and rushed to the ER. They found a tumor growing inside my left lower lung, which had to be removed in order to get rid of the entire mass which had broken blood vessels, filling my lungs with blood.
Six weeks ago---to the exact day of the lung resection seventeen years ago---I had an acute appendicitis. For several weeks prior, I had a foreboding feeling that an appendicitis was coming, although I had no symptoms or pain to indicate it. It was purely by intuition. I felt a lack of energy and a general sense of malaise, but no pain. Each time I wondered what could be wrong with me appendicitis popped into my head. But I had absolutely no pain!
I tried to tune into this idea, psychically, to try and validate or verify somehow that my thoughts of an appendicitis were not just an irrational fear or worry, and what I got was the distinct feeling that my body was in some process of change that would culminate into something medical requiring surgery. Appendicitis came into my mind again and again. I finally just accepted that if the appendicitis was coming, there was nothing I could do to prevent it. With no pain or fever, I doubt any tests would have shown an appendicitis yet. I felt that doing nothing was my best choice. Why try to stave off a possible inflamed appendix with antibiotics? Would my doctor have even suggested it? It seems better to just let the process happen, get the surgery, and have it be over with!
So, when the acute appendicitis finally started happening I wasn't surprised. I was just mad that I'd have to have another surgery!
After the surgery, I did some research on the Internet to find out if it was possible to feel the onset of an appendicitis with no symptoms other than general fatigue and malaise, and so far the only precursors I've seen mentioned involve severe pain. I had no pain in the weeks before the appendicitis. These stories on the Internet were of people being rushed to the ER in severe pain only to be told everything was fine, and not end up actually having the appendicitis until weeks or months later!
That's what prevented me from rushing to the ER that night. When the pain started, I thought, Ok here it is. This is it. It's real. Now what do I do? I was afraid of going to the hospital and being told they couldn't find anything wrong with me yet. So I waited as long as I could, six hours, until I just couldn't take the pain any longer.
The pain had started suddenly at midnight, and by just past 6:00 a.m. I phoned my mom to come and take me to the ER. By then I had most of the classic symptoms--severe pain, bloating, bowel movements, vomiting, and fever--and was not only certain it was my appendix, but was also certain the ER docs would be able to identify it quickly. And with lab tests and a CAT scan, they did. All in all, everything went well. No rupture, and I was released home the next day. Afterwards, I asked how long in advance do you feel symptoms of an appendicitis and was told that it is possible to have "chronic appendicitis" with severe pain, but that in the case of an acute appendicitis you're not going to feel it until it's happening. So, it seems that my foreboding feeling of an upcoming appendicitis---with absolutely no pain---was indeed a psychic feeling.
If I had gone to the ER or even to see my family doc a few weeks earlier, and told them I think I'm going to be having an appendicitis, I wonder what they would have said! Ha ha! It would have been great to have that documented, but then again, why waste a copay?
Hopefully this is the last surgery I'll ever have, but I'm fairly confident that if it isn't, I'll know about it before it happens. What good will it do me? I don't know. But I like to believe that there's a reason for everything. When I psychically receive information about something that I can't do anything about, there must be a reason for it. Usually there's a feeling of comfort that comes along with it. Such as to say, "This is what's coming. It'll be scary, but don't worry. Everything's going to be ok." And I like that. That's good enough for me.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
BLACK SHADOW
One evening I went to bed early--early for me, 10 p.m. I hadn't been feeling well for quite a while, just a generalized malaise and tiredness. The moment my head hit the pillow an enormous pain engulfed my head. It felt as if I'd been whacked on the back of the head. I hoped to fall asleep quickly and sleep off the strange headache.
I awoke some time later, standing in the dark at the top of the stairs. I was looking downstairs at a soft light which illuminated the darkness when I realized I was thinking to myself, What is that light? The question repeated itself while I became aware I was thinking it, then became aware I was awakening, and then aware that I must have been sleepwalking. And there was a light; it wasn't just a dream. And now I consciously asked the same question, "What is that light?"
I followed the light, and now standing at the top of the basement stairs I could see that the light was coming from my son David's bedroom. He wasn't in bed. I wondered what day it was, what time it was, and whether my kids were here or at their dad's house. I had no memory of any of it.
I walked down the stairs and saw that the bathroom door was shut. David must be using the toilet, I thought. By now my full memory had returned. It was Monday night, my kids were at my house, I wasn't sure what time it was, but the massive headache had returned and felt ten times worse. Without saying a word to my son, I went back up the stairs. The headache was too painful to engage in any conversation. I used the toilet and quickly went back to bed. It was midnight.
I wanted sleep to come as quickly as possible, but just as I felt I could drift off again I felt a feeling of a presence in my room, as if someone were trying to get my attention. I opened my eyes. There wasn't anything there. I closed my eyes again and suddenly, nonphysically, could see my room in full clarity. A black mass was hovering in the far corner of the room. It swooped down toward me and swept over the bed and out the door. I quickly opened my eyes in shock. There wasn't anything there. I must have dreamed that, I thought.
The moment my eyes closed again, the presence was there, as if shaking me awake. I quickly opened my eyes, as if to catch a glimpse of whatever it was, but there was nothing there. I closed my eyes again and instantly was able to see my bedroom as clearly as if my eyes were open. I know my eyes are closed, and I'm awake, I thought. The black shadow thing was in the corner of the room again, high at the ceiling as if waiting for me to give it my attention. I watched it swoop down over my bed and out the door. I had the distinct feeling that whatever this thing was, it wanted me to go back down into David's room. I was just down there, I thought. David's fine. I need to get back to sleep. This headache is so bad. If David needed me, he'd come get me.
Some time later I felt the awakening nudge of the shadow presence again. I also felt my pounding headache, now worse than before. I opened my eyes but there was nothing there. I closed my eyes and just like before, I instantly had full vision of my bedroom as if my eyes were still open, and the black shadow once again hovered in the corner of my room. I watched it swoop down toward me, over the bed, and out the door. And just like before, I quickly opened my eyes, in disbelief that what I was seeing with my eyes closed while wide awake could possibly be real. I didn't see anything.
This continued for what seemed like a long time. I suppose I drifted off to sleep in between, but the feeling of the presence awakening me returned again and again, along with the shadow's strange behavior as if to get me out of my room and back downstairs. This must be a weird dream. Maybe I'm in a weird light sleep state and don't even know it. I know my eyes are closed, but I'm awake. Every time I open my eyes, I don't see anything there. I don't see the shadow until my eyes are closed. Ow my head is killing me. My headache was now, remarkably, even much worse than before. I finally couldn't take it anymore; the repetitive feeling of a presence awakening me, the repetitive shadow movements, the repetitive impression that it wanted me to get out of bed and go downstairs. Each time I was awakened it made my headache that much worse, so I got out of bed. It was 2:30 a.m.
I went downstairs. David's light was off. He must be in bed sleeping. I got something to drink, and then I took a Vicodin. I went back to bed and slept deeply the rest of the night. By morning the headache was gone.
I couldn't wait to tell David about my weird experience from the night before, but I didn't get a chance to talk to him until after work. David and I were on our way to pick up some Little Caesar's pizza when I remembered to tell him what happened. We had just pulled into a parking space when David turned to me and said, "Well, now I have something to tell you about last night. We had nearly the same experience." I had just turned off the engine, stopping the air conditioner, and we were sitting there in that hot car in the middle of July with the windows up, goosebumps chilling my skin as I listened to David tell me what had happened to him that night as well.
He'd had trouble falling asleep and for a while lied there with his eyes open looking around his room. He saw something move past the spray of light of his night light, a black shadow. He wasn't scared; David's used to paranormal activity--aware that there are things we don't understand--and he just tells himself if he doesn't give it his attention it will go away. But after the shadow crossed through the light a few times David got out of bed. That's when he went into the bathroom and shut the door. He said he eventually heard me walking around upstairs and then use the toilet. After that he was able to fall asleep but later awoke to the sound of someone coming down into his room. He felt a presence standing next to his bed as if watching him, but he remained still, eyes closed, giving it no attention. When the feeling passed he opened his eyes. It was 5:00 a.m.
To my own satisfaction--that what I experienced was real and not just a dream--David's experience had verified mine. We don't know what the black shadow was or what it wanted, but we both saw it on the same night. How strange, that neither of us was scared of it. And what a strange night for me--the sudden massive headache and the sleepwalking. I wonder what caused me to sleepwalk in the first place.
I awoke some time later, standing in the dark at the top of the stairs. I was looking downstairs at a soft light which illuminated the darkness when I realized I was thinking to myself, What is that light? The question repeated itself while I became aware I was thinking it, then became aware I was awakening, and then aware that I must have been sleepwalking. And there was a light; it wasn't just a dream. And now I consciously asked the same question, "What is that light?"
I followed the light, and now standing at the top of the basement stairs I could see that the light was coming from my son David's bedroom. He wasn't in bed. I wondered what day it was, what time it was, and whether my kids were here or at their dad's house. I had no memory of any of it.
I walked down the stairs and saw that the bathroom door was shut. David must be using the toilet, I thought. By now my full memory had returned. It was Monday night, my kids were at my house, I wasn't sure what time it was, but the massive headache had returned and felt ten times worse. Without saying a word to my son, I went back up the stairs. The headache was too painful to engage in any conversation. I used the toilet and quickly went back to bed. It was midnight.
I wanted sleep to come as quickly as possible, but just as I felt I could drift off again I felt a feeling of a presence in my room, as if someone were trying to get my attention. I opened my eyes. There wasn't anything there. I closed my eyes again and suddenly, nonphysically, could see my room in full clarity. A black mass was hovering in the far corner of the room. It swooped down toward me and swept over the bed and out the door. I quickly opened my eyes in shock. There wasn't anything there. I must have dreamed that, I thought.
The moment my eyes closed again, the presence was there, as if shaking me awake. I quickly opened my eyes, as if to catch a glimpse of whatever it was, but there was nothing there. I closed my eyes again and instantly was able to see my bedroom as clearly as if my eyes were open. I know my eyes are closed, and I'm awake, I thought. The black shadow thing was in the corner of the room again, high at the ceiling as if waiting for me to give it my attention. I watched it swoop down over my bed and out the door. I had the distinct feeling that whatever this thing was, it wanted me to go back down into David's room. I was just down there, I thought. David's fine. I need to get back to sleep. This headache is so bad. If David needed me, he'd come get me.
Some time later I felt the awakening nudge of the shadow presence again. I also felt my pounding headache, now worse than before. I opened my eyes but there was nothing there. I closed my eyes and just like before, I instantly had full vision of my bedroom as if my eyes were still open, and the black shadow once again hovered in the corner of my room. I watched it swoop down toward me, over the bed, and out the door. And just like before, I quickly opened my eyes, in disbelief that what I was seeing with my eyes closed while wide awake could possibly be real. I didn't see anything.
This continued for what seemed like a long time. I suppose I drifted off to sleep in between, but the feeling of the presence awakening me returned again and again, along with the shadow's strange behavior as if to get me out of my room and back downstairs. This must be a weird dream. Maybe I'm in a weird light sleep state and don't even know it. I know my eyes are closed, but I'm awake. Every time I open my eyes, I don't see anything there. I don't see the shadow until my eyes are closed. Ow my head is killing me. My headache was now, remarkably, even much worse than before. I finally couldn't take it anymore; the repetitive feeling of a presence awakening me, the repetitive shadow movements, the repetitive impression that it wanted me to get out of bed and go downstairs. Each time I was awakened it made my headache that much worse, so I got out of bed. It was 2:30 a.m.
I went downstairs. David's light was off. He must be in bed sleeping. I got something to drink, and then I took a Vicodin. I went back to bed and slept deeply the rest of the night. By morning the headache was gone.
I couldn't wait to tell David about my weird experience from the night before, but I didn't get a chance to talk to him until after work. David and I were on our way to pick up some Little Caesar's pizza when I remembered to tell him what happened. We had just pulled into a parking space when David turned to me and said, "Well, now I have something to tell you about last night. We had nearly the same experience." I had just turned off the engine, stopping the air conditioner, and we were sitting there in that hot car in the middle of July with the windows up, goosebumps chilling my skin as I listened to David tell me what had happened to him that night as well.
He'd had trouble falling asleep and for a while lied there with his eyes open looking around his room. He saw something move past the spray of light of his night light, a black shadow. He wasn't scared; David's used to paranormal activity--aware that there are things we don't understand--and he just tells himself if he doesn't give it his attention it will go away. But after the shadow crossed through the light a few times David got out of bed. That's when he went into the bathroom and shut the door. He said he eventually heard me walking around upstairs and then use the toilet. After that he was able to fall asleep but later awoke to the sound of someone coming down into his room. He felt a presence standing next to his bed as if watching him, but he remained still, eyes closed, giving it no attention. When the feeling passed he opened his eyes. It was 5:00 a.m.
To my own satisfaction--that what I experienced was real and not just a dream--David's experience had verified mine. We don't know what the black shadow was or what it wanted, but we both saw it on the same night. How strange, that neither of us was scared of it. And what a strange night for me--the sudden massive headache and the sleepwalking. I wonder what caused me to sleepwalk in the first place.
Monday, June 17, 2013
SHIFTING FROM LOGIC TO INTUITION
I thought I'd share something about what I've learned about shifting awareness between Logic and Intuition. Many of you have probably seen me mention my project of developing psychic ability, or intuition. I've studied it for years, diligently, and have adhered to all the rules and tricks and tips I've learned along the way. It's why I got attracted to Bruce Moen's work and what he teaches, because his tools and techniques for nonphysical exploration are the same thing as using intuition.
My kids and I started doing geocaching. It's something to get you outside walking, with the fun of exploring for hidden treasure. People anywhere in the world can hide a cache and then post its whereabouts on line. You log on and it finds your location, and it gives you coordinates for nearby caches, and the GPS guides you there with a little map showing where you are in relation to the hidden cache. The GPS tells you how many miles and then feet you are away, the closer you get. It's never precise and can only come just so close, so once you get in the general vicinity you just have to look around. Some caches are "microscopic" which is smaller than the size of a tiny tube of pencil lead, or they can be the size of a lunchbox, small ammo box, or much bigger. So you just look under rocks, between rocks, logs, bushes, trees, anywhere. Inside the cache, if it's big enough, is paper to sign and date and sometimes little "treasures", toys or souvenirs...take one, leave one.
So the very first one my daughter Abby and I tried, well we had no idea what we were looking for. We didn't know how big it would be or how obvious it would stand out. We were led to a creek filled with water, mud, cattails, and rocks. Trees and grass and rocks surrounding the area. A tunnel where the creek went under the road. The GPS had us pointed right into the creek. Abby said, "Well I'm not adventurous enough to get down there and look through all that." And I wasn't either!
We knew the GPS had us in the general area but one step one direction and you were suddenly several feet away from the supposed spot. It was a little confusing to know exactly where we were supposed to be looking! The how-to video on the Geocaching site tells you that if you get within 20 feet or so, just start looking all around you in any direction since the GPS can never be exact. Well, we realized this could be harder than we thought. We walked and looked around all the trees, looking for disturbed earth. Looking for tracks or obvious spots where something was out of place. Looking for anything odd or an obvious hiding spot. Nothing. Got back down toward the creek again and cringed at the thought of looking in it.
As I walked along the creek, I remember thinking that I didn't want to just give up. This was adventurous, and I didn't want to disappoint my daughter, and I am not a person who gives up easily. When I want something, I do everything I can to get it. So then I told myself, "Vicky! Duh! You're looking logically. You need to focus intuitively and just feel for it. This is a perfect opportunity."
I used a little mental trick...I envisioned a gauge stick shifting from the left side of my brain to the right, kind of like watching the speedometer when you step on the gas. Once it shifted over I stopping thinking and turned my attention on what I felt. I felt like turning my head to my left, so I did. My eyes fell on one rock near the creek bed at the head of the tunnel around 15 to 20 feet away from me. I walked straight toward that rock knowing that my intuition had pointed me there.
I said to Abby, "It's right here. It has to be right here." And she saw me reach down and pick up that rock. Underneath it was a tiny cache the size of a pill bottle covered in camouflage tape and nestled in a little nook in the dirt. I remember Abby saying, "Oh my gosh how did you know it was there? How did you do that?" But she knows. I told her my intuition told me and she wasn't surprised. My kids are used to it.
Switching from logic to intuition was like going from trying to look, to deciding to just stop looking. All that was left was what I felt. It happens in a flash of an instant, so you have to pay attention to whatever you feel, no matter what it is. And it really doesn't matter what it is, just as long as you notice a feeling. When you do, follow through. Following through means having no doubt about the process. Don't question it, analyze it, or work out in your mind if it makes sense or not. Just allow your conscious awareness to move with it. In this case, it meant turning my head toward where I got pulled, and walking over to where my eyes were looking.
My kids and I started doing geocaching. It's something to get you outside walking, with the fun of exploring for hidden treasure. People anywhere in the world can hide a cache and then post its whereabouts on line. You log on and it finds your location, and it gives you coordinates for nearby caches, and the GPS guides you there with a little map showing where you are in relation to the hidden cache. The GPS tells you how many miles and then feet you are away, the closer you get. It's never precise and can only come just so close, so once you get in the general vicinity you just have to look around. Some caches are "microscopic" which is smaller than the size of a tiny tube of pencil lead, or they can be the size of a lunchbox, small ammo box, or much bigger. So you just look under rocks, between rocks, logs, bushes, trees, anywhere. Inside the cache, if it's big enough, is paper to sign and date and sometimes little "treasures", toys or souvenirs...take one, leave one.
So the very first one my daughter Abby and I tried, well we had no idea what we were looking for. We didn't know how big it would be or how obvious it would stand out. We were led to a creek filled with water, mud, cattails, and rocks. Trees and grass and rocks surrounding the area. A tunnel where the creek went under the road. The GPS had us pointed right into the creek. Abby said, "Well I'm not adventurous enough to get down there and look through all that." And I wasn't either!
We knew the GPS had us in the general area but one step one direction and you were suddenly several feet away from the supposed spot. It was a little confusing to know exactly where we were supposed to be looking! The how-to video on the Geocaching site tells you that if you get within 20 feet or so, just start looking all around you in any direction since the GPS can never be exact. Well, we realized this could be harder than we thought. We walked and looked around all the trees, looking for disturbed earth. Looking for tracks or obvious spots where something was out of place. Looking for anything odd or an obvious hiding spot. Nothing. Got back down toward the creek again and cringed at the thought of looking in it.
As I walked along the creek, I remember thinking that I didn't want to just give up. This was adventurous, and I didn't want to disappoint my daughter, and I am not a person who gives up easily. When I want something, I do everything I can to get it. So then I told myself, "Vicky! Duh! You're looking logically. You need to focus intuitively and just feel for it. This is a perfect opportunity."
I used a little mental trick...I envisioned a gauge stick shifting from the left side of my brain to the right, kind of like watching the speedometer when you step on the gas. Once it shifted over I stopping thinking and turned my attention on what I felt. I felt like turning my head to my left, so I did. My eyes fell on one rock near the creek bed at the head of the tunnel around 15 to 20 feet away from me. I walked straight toward that rock knowing that my intuition had pointed me there.
I said to Abby, "It's right here. It has to be right here." And she saw me reach down and pick up that rock. Underneath it was a tiny cache the size of a pill bottle covered in camouflage tape and nestled in a little nook in the dirt. I remember Abby saying, "Oh my gosh how did you know it was there? How did you do that?" But she knows. I told her my intuition told me and she wasn't surprised. My kids are used to it.
Switching from logic to intuition was like going from trying to look, to deciding to just stop looking. All that was left was what I felt. It happens in a flash of an instant, so you have to pay attention to whatever you feel, no matter what it is. And it really doesn't matter what it is, just as long as you notice a feeling. When you do, follow through. Following through means having no doubt about the process. Don't question it, analyze it, or work out in your mind if it makes sense or not. Just allow your conscious awareness to move with it. In this case, it meant turning my head toward where I got pulled, and walking over to where my eyes were looking.
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