So, this morning, I was gifted a wonderful dream. Instead of describing it, I'm going to just relay its effect on me. I woke up twice during the dream and was determined to go back to sleep to it, and both times I was successful. I can remember almost all of it, and I keep bringing it back to the front of my mind, trying to concrete it in long-term memory. The gist is that I am loved and taken care of in a way infinitely more than my human words can convey, and by someone who is the best parts of me, only x 1000. At a distance it can be seen as me being controlled by this someone, but it isn't control as much as it is that my situation is literally ideal for me. Built and functioning for me. Populated for me. Made for me. A dream that left me with a knowing of God. A knowing that my faith in Him is what He wants it to be.
I now face this day with such a feeling of being loved that I want to just hug about 100 people. Well, I have access to no people here and now. I suppose I could go next door but, I'm not going to. I have hugged my dog, and I had to give the cat her morning injection so, she's still a bit peeved at me. I have never been surfing, never ridden a real tangible wave like that. This feels like I imagine that would feel. I don't have extra energy, in fact, if I walk the dog at all, it will be a short one. But I do have extra spirit. I feel full. The tank is full.
The true beauty of this is that my day to day life is wrought with constant changes that are sometimes hard to adjust to and can be super frustrating. With a tank so full, I have fuel to help me endure. It won't put out fires, but it will aid me in getting to the other side of them. I will still live with whatever my body throws at me, and the neurons will fire when the neurotransmitters emit, and it will hurt but, in the scope of my life, it is small. I have a spirit-filled tank today. And I am so, so grateful.
Praying everyone I love can have at least one similar morning. And not only have it, but take time to recognize and appreciate it.
Have happy, happy days!
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Today's Conudrum
So, yesterday, I didn't get a migraine at all. Didn't have to medicate for one all day and fell asleep fine. One of just two headache free days in a long slew of them. And this morning I notice that, huh, I didn't take any of my regular maintenance medications or vitamins yesterday morning. Connection? Very probably. Today I took them, and I'm going now to medicate for a migraine that started about oh, 3 minutes ago and find the darkest deepest hole into which to climb. Super fun Thursday!!
Grateful it's just my head aching. I am walking and talking fine. Nice to have some things feeling normalish (I don't think normalish is a real word but, since this isn't being graded I figure its ok to use Marievish. Have happy happy days. JUST DECIDE TO DO IT. BE HAPPY.
Grateful it's just my head aching. I am walking and talking fine. Nice to have some things feeling normalish (I don't think normalish is a real word but, since this isn't being graded I figure its ok to use Marievish. Have happy happy days. JUST DECIDE TO DO IT. BE HAPPY.
Friday, December 4, 2015
Oh Headache Tree, Oh Headache Tree
So, I've been in a long-term goal to lose XYZ pounds. And, triumphantly, have lost X and Y. Now, having to abandon the altered nutrition. I am getting at least one migraine a day again. Unfortunately, there's no way to tell yet what has brought them back. In my hope that it was simple hunger, I am eating solid food and meat, etc again. I am making sure that my environment is humidified well. I am making sure proper naps are had. Going to bed on time and doing more pilates than was usual for me. I can't get my hands to grip around an answer. My medicine is working when I take it. The onset is so rapid that I don't have any time to drink my pink saltwater remedy. The issue: I am prescribed enough medicine to get through 9 headaches a month. Nine. I am simply not permitted to have more than that. lol. The insurance company thinks that if that dosage doesn't work, then it is the wrong medicine for me at this time. (And I would not argue that fact.) The prospect of me having to change migraine medicine is, let's call it, horrendous. Not sure if that word really covers it. Will have to keep thinking about proper adjectives for it.
Grateful that the medicine I currently have is nipping them for now and that they are not lowering my quality of life dramatically. Praying, and asking you to pray, that whatever is causing them comes to a close.
Monday, November 30, 2015
Nov 30 Catch-Up
It has been a long time since I have felt clear-headed enough when the computer was also free for me to write. (There's some kind of war going on lately whereby my husbands goblin gang roam around looking for treasure, slaying all those in the way....and I guess battles need to be tended to rather immediately...)
Much has happened to me, emotionally at least, in the last several weeks. I have had some eureka moments which I hope stay with me, even when my fog is very dense. First, I really do think I am gluten intolerant. Also, intolerant of additives and preservatives. I have been on a juice diet for about 3 weeks, beginning the 4th now. It has helped me lose some more of the pounds I want to whittle away. I plan to stay on it until the New Year. I am eating some small solid foods, but trying to really just give my body nutrients it can use more immediately. I am down 20 pounds with only 10 to go by May of next year. That's within reach. I am not letting myself get too hungry, that's a sure fire migraine trigger. So, I'm enjoying that small accomplishment. It is especially successful since I have accomplished nearly all of it with nutrition change. I do some pilates a few days a week, but not enough to burn any significant calories. I'm not in the vigorous exercise category, but the sedentary one, unfortunately.
Second, my symptoms are still moderate, have not gotten severe again for more than a couple days at a time, even though the weather has been cold and wet for about a week. I don't know if the nutrition change has helped to keep things more balanced so pain isn't triggered, I have no idea why this spell of cold wet weather is treating me ok when some in the past haven't. I do know one thing, I have only left my home once in the past 4 days and stayed indoors only. Blessed with warmth and shelter.
A friend suggested a book to me which was fantastic. I listened to it but, I now want to read it also. It's called The Shack by William P. Young. It has given me a new and different perspective about my spiritual relationships and what I want my goals to be. It has pointed out to me once and for all that our human striving for independence (the thing that was stripped from me by this illness) is nearly on the same level as idol worship. It is not of God. In fact, the more we try to control whatever in our lives, the more we prove to Him that we don't trust and love Him in the way He wants. Independence from Him is wrong. We need to need Him in order for our hearts to open enough to let Him in. So, I now see that before I got sick, I did seek independence fiercely. I had been somewhat controlled by others for some years and I was then beginning to do MY thing. I had MY goals, MY plan and path. He simply wanted me on His path, to know His plan, in His time. So, for me to get there, it took stripping me of my independence LITERALLY. Now, I frequently need help. Physical, emotional, psychological, logistical, mental, all kinds possible. And I ask for it when I do. Or I try to, and I usually accomplish it. I am deep in the category of needy now. I need Him. I need others. This creates one other beauty, a grateful heart. When a heart is grateful, it cannot carry anger, resentment, bigotry, whatever is dark. Grateful hearts know God's love. They are filled with it and those around them are touched by it. This is my prayer for my life. That others know I have a grateful heart and that I want to share God's love with my brothers and sisters. He loves us all, all of His children. He loves killers, rapists, bombers, Grannys, girls, boys, teachers, stockbrokers, all of His children. None He created are unloved. I'm going to stop now because I'm both unsure if I'm making sense and I don't want to misrepresent or spoil the book if any of you'd like to read it. It is just a stunning piece of work.
Last Wednesday would have been Monica's 42 birthday. I was okay most of the day until I saw a beautiful, breathtaking piece of art created of her by our brother. The water works opened again.
I made and ate a pumpkin cheesecake because I'm told that is what she'd have liked for her b-day. The real interesting thing is that on the next day, Thanksgiving Day, I felt fine. I had spoken to everyone I loved and left many messages for others. So, while war was waging in here on the keyboard, I decided I'd watch Dances with Wolves, having never seen it. It's an old movie so, I'm not afraid of spoiling... when they murder Two Socks, I lost it. I cried so hard that it was painful. I could not stop. I think I wept for 30 minutes. Tim came and found me part way into the mess and held me. I just could not handle the meanness to the innocent. It crushed me. I know some of that sadness was leftover from the previous day. I also know that some of it is the fact that I am drawn to be near my loved ones during the holidays, and I am far away. I also know that no matter how much I understand why I am now needy, I will still grieve my loss of independence. And I do. I surely do.
I must go do something else now, as I can no longer feel my hands or feet from the cold. Circulation in them is poor, at best. Also, its lunchtime. Yay, more juice!!
Grateful for those who love me, really love ME, who I am, who I've been, who I will become. Grateful for the abundance of the situation in which I live. Food, shelter, water, heat, all of it. Truly grateful. Praying for lots more clear headed days so I can write in full sentences which complete my thoughts, instead of half-thoughts. I do enjoy this so.
Have lovely days! Decide to be happy.
Much has happened to me, emotionally at least, in the last several weeks. I have had some eureka moments which I hope stay with me, even when my fog is very dense. First, I really do think I am gluten intolerant. Also, intolerant of additives and preservatives. I have been on a juice diet for about 3 weeks, beginning the 4th now. It has helped me lose some more of the pounds I want to whittle away. I plan to stay on it until the New Year. I am eating some small solid foods, but trying to really just give my body nutrients it can use more immediately. I am down 20 pounds with only 10 to go by May of next year. That's within reach. I am not letting myself get too hungry, that's a sure fire migraine trigger. So, I'm enjoying that small accomplishment. It is especially successful since I have accomplished nearly all of it with nutrition change. I do some pilates a few days a week, but not enough to burn any significant calories. I'm not in the vigorous exercise category, but the sedentary one, unfortunately.
Second, my symptoms are still moderate, have not gotten severe again for more than a couple days at a time, even though the weather has been cold and wet for about a week. I don't know if the nutrition change has helped to keep things more balanced so pain isn't triggered, I have no idea why this spell of cold wet weather is treating me ok when some in the past haven't. I do know one thing, I have only left my home once in the past 4 days and stayed indoors only. Blessed with warmth and shelter.
A friend suggested a book to me which was fantastic. I listened to it but, I now want to read it also. It's called The Shack by William P. Young. It has given me a new and different perspective about my spiritual relationships and what I want my goals to be. It has pointed out to me once and for all that our human striving for independence (the thing that was stripped from me by this illness) is nearly on the same level as idol worship. It is not of God. In fact, the more we try to control whatever in our lives, the more we prove to Him that we don't trust and love Him in the way He wants. Independence from Him is wrong. We need to need Him in order for our hearts to open enough to let Him in. So, I now see that before I got sick, I did seek independence fiercely. I had been somewhat controlled by others for some years and I was then beginning to do MY thing. I had MY goals, MY plan and path. He simply wanted me on His path, to know His plan, in His time. So, for me to get there, it took stripping me of my independence LITERALLY. Now, I frequently need help. Physical, emotional, psychological, logistical, mental, all kinds possible. And I ask for it when I do. Or I try to, and I usually accomplish it. I am deep in the category of needy now. I need Him. I need others. This creates one other beauty, a grateful heart. When a heart is grateful, it cannot carry anger, resentment, bigotry, whatever is dark. Grateful hearts know God's love. They are filled with it and those around them are touched by it. This is my prayer for my life. That others know I have a grateful heart and that I want to share God's love with my brothers and sisters. He loves us all, all of His children. He loves killers, rapists, bombers, Grannys, girls, boys, teachers, stockbrokers, all of His children. None He created are unloved. I'm going to stop now because I'm both unsure if I'm making sense and I don't want to misrepresent or spoil the book if any of you'd like to read it. It is just a stunning piece of work.
Last Wednesday would have been Monica's 42 birthday. I was okay most of the day until I saw a beautiful, breathtaking piece of art created of her by our brother. The water works opened again.
I made and ate a pumpkin cheesecake because I'm told that is what she'd have liked for her b-day. The real interesting thing is that on the next day, Thanksgiving Day, I felt fine. I had spoken to everyone I loved and left many messages for others. So, while war was waging in here on the keyboard, I decided I'd watch Dances with Wolves, having never seen it. It's an old movie so, I'm not afraid of spoiling... when they murder Two Socks, I lost it. I cried so hard that it was painful. I could not stop. I think I wept for 30 minutes. Tim came and found me part way into the mess and held me. I just could not handle the meanness to the innocent. It crushed me. I know some of that sadness was leftover from the previous day. I also know that some of it is the fact that I am drawn to be near my loved ones during the holidays, and I am far away. I also know that no matter how much I understand why I am now needy, I will still grieve my loss of independence. And I do. I surely do.
I must go do something else now, as I can no longer feel my hands or feet from the cold. Circulation in them is poor, at best. Also, its lunchtime. Yay, more juice!!
Grateful for those who love me, really love ME, who I am, who I've been, who I will become. Grateful for the abundance of the situation in which I live. Food, shelter, water, heat, all of it. Truly grateful. Praying for lots more clear headed days so I can write in full sentences which complete my thoughts, instead of half-thoughts. I do enjoy this so.
Have lovely days! Decide to be happy.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Surprisingly Moderate
The weather has been rough here for a few days. In fact last night there was a tornado warning at 3 am for about 30 min or so. Weather like that usually creates a combo of symptoms that have me feeling, let's see how to put this, like I've dropped into a conscious coma and been set on fire. Yes, I think that does it. So, imagine my surprise and delight at my ability to walk around a bit and do a few chores in a row. I love moderation.
Bittersweet that the fall used to be my favorite season but now, it really is my most painful one. I haven't been out to pilates for 2 weeks. I hope to go tomorrow. We'll just see how today and tomorrow morning go.
I am still keeping my waking hours as full of pleasant things as I can, although, sometimes pleasant things have a third or fourth row seat to the show that is ME. And a few days ago I began selling some of my little creations on Etsy which does connect me to the world at large again. I so miss that connection. Last week one day I had to reach for my narcotic pain med 3 times, which I've never done in 10 years. I was actually only out of bed that day for about 30 minutes, in spurts. This week is better so far. I try hard not to need to reach for the hydrocodone and I usually succeed. I can go for many, many months and handle my pain in a way other than pharmaceutical. I used to see relying on the pain meds as a weakness, or a surrender if you will. Not anymore. Not at all for me to judge. If a person in pain cannot handle it, whether they have tried something else or not, let them have medicine. The time to talk and think about how to handle pain is not when you're IN the pain. It has to be when you're in a valley, not a peak. I have to plan to be in pain. I have to know what to do, how to think, how to treat myself, how to speak to people so they can understand me. It's a whole different version of me. But by the time I get to the peak of the mountain it's too late to expect me to be able to do anything except survive it and follow a rudimentary plan of action. Some folks might not know how to make a plan. Some may not realize that a strategy is even necessary or helpful. And I think they are the ones who do rely so heavily on narcotics. Further, I feel for them now. I feel a compassion that was not in me before. I used to think they took the easy way out. Really, they are taking the only way out. The only other way out is a permanent one that we need not address here, in this "joyful and thankful" post. lol.
My little support group of ladies is made up of 6 of us who all have my illness. All of us have some extra different disease dangling from the bracelet, if you will. One has rheumatoid arthritis, one has bipolar, it goes on and on. Anyway, we haven't been well enough to all meet for a month now and I miss them so. We meet on Mondays and the texts keep saying "can't get out of bed" or "have a migraine" or "unsafe to make the drive". A motley crew we are. But I told them yesterday that at least we now have each other to share those things with. Before them, I had few people I could just pick up my phone and talk to who would TRULY know what I was going through. Now, even though we aren't getting together, at least the Lord has put us all on a cross-path and we were able to meet.
Today I am thankful for the fact that I am ambulatory despite the crap weather and that my home did not become damaged in the tornado last night. Also, I've lost 19 out of the 30 pound goal I'm working on, so, thankful my efforts are paying off. Yay me!!
Bittersweet that the fall used to be my favorite season but now, it really is my most painful one. I haven't been out to pilates for 2 weeks. I hope to go tomorrow. We'll just see how today and tomorrow morning go.
I am still keeping my waking hours as full of pleasant things as I can, although, sometimes pleasant things have a third or fourth row seat to the show that is ME. And a few days ago I began selling some of my little creations on Etsy which does connect me to the world at large again. I so miss that connection. Last week one day I had to reach for my narcotic pain med 3 times, which I've never done in 10 years. I was actually only out of bed that day for about 30 minutes, in spurts. This week is better so far. I try hard not to need to reach for the hydrocodone and I usually succeed. I can go for many, many months and handle my pain in a way other than pharmaceutical. I used to see relying on the pain meds as a weakness, or a surrender if you will. Not anymore. Not at all for me to judge. If a person in pain cannot handle it, whether they have tried something else or not, let them have medicine. The time to talk and think about how to handle pain is not when you're IN the pain. It has to be when you're in a valley, not a peak. I have to plan to be in pain. I have to know what to do, how to think, how to treat myself, how to speak to people so they can understand me. It's a whole different version of me. But by the time I get to the peak of the mountain it's too late to expect me to be able to do anything except survive it and follow a rudimentary plan of action. Some folks might not know how to make a plan. Some may not realize that a strategy is even necessary or helpful. And I think they are the ones who do rely so heavily on narcotics. Further, I feel for them now. I feel a compassion that was not in me before. I used to think they took the easy way out. Really, they are taking the only way out. The only other way out is a permanent one that we need not address here, in this "joyful and thankful" post. lol.
My little support group of ladies is made up of 6 of us who all have my illness. All of us have some extra different disease dangling from the bracelet, if you will. One has rheumatoid arthritis, one has bipolar, it goes on and on. Anyway, we haven't been well enough to all meet for a month now and I miss them so. We meet on Mondays and the texts keep saying "can't get out of bed" or "have a migraine" or "unsafe to make the drive". A motley crew we are. But I told them yesterday that at least we now have each other to share those things with. Before them, I had few people I could just pick up my phone and talk to who would TRULY know what I was going through. Now, even though we aren't getting together, at least the Lord has put us all on a cross-path and we were able to meet.
Today I am thankful for the fact that I am ambulatory despite the crap weather and that my home did not become damaged in the tornado last night. Also, I've lost 19 out of the 30 pound goal I'm working on, so, thankful my efforts are paying off. Yay me!!
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
National Black Cat Day
I hope I write sometimes when I feel really fantastic. I don't go backwards and read my previous posts. I'm sure I don't blog like some others do where they're promoting something or telling a story. I just write how I feel or what new thing helped or hurt, etc. and maybe to me it seems like it's mostly on the negative feeling days that I am compelled to write. I guess that's the cathartic part, the therapeutic part of it for me. I need to go out and get some sunshine. And it is a beautiful day here. There's not any reason for me not to be happy. But, I feel empty. Not unhappy, just empty. I shouldn't but, I do so I will accept it. I am cooking something I really love, a squash pie. And I'm finishing my laundry without undue pain. Also going to work on my little crafty creations later, which feels sometimes like such a waste of time and money. Who cares about those little pendants or the crocheted muffs? What does it matter if I make them or not? Yes, my house will feel more appealing if there's not clean laundry strewn across my living room but, so what? What am I left with? Squash pie. And in the midst of all this "who cares?" feeling is the "holy cow you ungrateful *****" that I'm not thankful enough for it all. How can I possibly have a day like this in all the blessings on my list? But I am, and I do. So there it is.
Oscar is trying his very best to lure me outside to play. So, I will now be thankful for him and take him up on it. Having faith that at least it might help.
Grateful for the fundamentals. My shelter, my abundant food, clean water, indoor plumbing, electricity, peaceful and happy marriage.
Someone have a happy day. Mine is at risk.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Oh, How I Hate That Dream
I had it again. The dream, or nightmare rather, that I loathe. Writing it here again, hoping to chase it out of my subconscious. I know why I had it. Yesterday morning was easy. Walked the dog, did laundry, other chores, played with my clay, listened to music, all until the driver picked me up at noon to go for my brain MRI. That ruined me. Not the MRI. The drive down. He took the roads in such a way that my body was literally shaken badly enough that by the time we got there, I could barely stand, and I didn't have my chair, only my cane. Just the manner in which he drove brought every symptom on and turned them to MAX.
As before in the dream, the person after me is someone I've loved all my life. Someone I still love now, someone in my family of origin. I'll use the pronoun he for the sake of writing but, I never want to disclose who it is for fear of hurting this beloved person.
He controls me. He makes sure I go nowhere without him. He has told everyone, everywhere we go that he plans to kill me in a very surprising and painful way. We went to a club type event and they all knew what he was planning and no one would help me or hide me or defend me. They all just left me to be terrified of what would come. I was trying to convince them that I'd done nothing wrong to him, I didn't deserve it, but he had their ear. I pleaded with everyone to help to no avail. I tried to hide and was found again and again. He laughed in my face at my figuring out I was in his grasp. He put me in a car and told me to leave knowing I didn't know where I was so, I'd inevitably end up returning to the spot He was in waiting for me. There was no escaping him and he enjoyed every second of it.
He represents my illness, according to my therapist. That rings true for me. When symptoms are at MAX like they were yesterday, it does control me. A better way to say it is that it limits me but, really limiting is controlling, one just sounds a bit lest negative than the other. It is always waiting for me, no matter where I go, it is with me, taunting, telling me there is no escaping it. Just when I am enjoying some freedom from it, like yesterday morning, it comes in and warns me of my painful imminent death at its hands. Reminds me that I am the prey and it is the predator and it will never stop until it succeeds. I understand that my illness is not known to be terminal or even degenerative. I do. I also understand that my quality of life in general now is far higher than when I first got sick 10 years ago. I try hard to mitigate what I live with and how I live. But, quite a lot of how I feel is outside of my control. For instance, the driver yesterday, unbeknownst to him, brought on every symptom I can have. From severe pain to migraine to fatigue to depression, All in one 20 minute ride. And after, I could hardly even stand up. I had to be helped to walk to the MRI appointment.
Further, this morning I had to get straight out of bed and into my wheelchair. Something I've not had to do for quite a few months. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm sad.
I'm going to dress and eat and go to my pilates class at 9:30 when another driver will come to fetch me. Despite wanting very much not to leave the comfort of my home, I'm going. It has helped before, helped very much. So, I am just going to hope for the best and trust that Christ is with me. Frankly it couldn't be worse than yesterday's spectacle unless I lose consciousness.
This morning, I have gratitude for this computer and the fact that I can type these thoughts. You see, it isn't very hard at all for me to tell the story on the keyboard. But, if I tried to tell the story verbally, you'd hear a quite different description. My brain blocks so much of my vocabulary from my mouth that I end up sounding like I never went to school in my life, let alone college. But, somehow, I can make sense of my thoughts still, and am able to use this cathartic way to get them out of my head. So, today, if you can have an easy conversation with someone, be thankful for it. Some of us can't.
As before in the dream, the person after me is someone I've loved all my life. Someone I still love now, someone in my family of origin. I'll use the pronoun he for the sake of writing but, I never want to disclose who it is for fear of hurting this beloved person.
He controls me. He makes sure I go nowhere without him. He has told everyone, everywhere we go that he plans to kill me in a very surprising and painful way. We went to a club type event and they all knew what he was planning and no one would help me or hide me or defend me. They all just left me to be terrified of what would come. I was trying to convince them that I'd done nothing wrong to him, I didn't deserve it, but he had their ear. I pleaded with everyone to help to no avail. I tried to hide and was found again and again. He laughed in my face at my figuring out I was in his grasp. He put me in a car and told me to leave knowing I didn't know where I was so, I'd inevitably end up returning to the spot He was in waiting for me. There was no escaping him and he enjoyed every second of it.
He represents my illness, according to my therapist. That rings true for me. When symptoms are at MAX like they were yesterday, it does control me. A better way to say it is that it limits me but, really limiting is controlling, one just sounds a bit lest negative than the other. It is always waiting for me, no matter where I go, it is with me, taunting, telling me there is no escaping it. Just when I am enjoying some freedom from it, like yesterday morning, it comes in and warns me of my painful imminent death at its hands. Reminds me that I am the prey and it is the predator and it will never stop until it succeeds. I understand that my illness is not known to be terminal or even degenerative. I do. I also understand that my quality of life in general now is far higher than when I first got sick 10 years ago. I try hard to mitigate what I live with and how I live. But, quite a lot of how I feel is outside of my control. For instance, the driver yesterday, unbeknownst to him, brought on every symptom I can have. From severe pain to migraine to fatigue to depression, All in one 20 minute ride. And after, I could hardly even stand up. I had to be helped to walk to the MRI appointment.
Further, this morning I had to get straight out of bed and into my wheelchair. Something I've not had to do for quite a few months. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm sad.
I'm going to dress and eat and go to my pilates class at 9:30 when another driver will come to fetch me. Despite wanting very much not to leave the comfort of my home, I'm going. It has helped before, helped very much. So, I am just going to hope for the best and trust that Christ is with me. Frankly it couldn't be worse than yesterday's spectacle unless I lose consciousness.
This morning, I have gratitude for this computer and the fact that I can type these thoughts. You see, it isn't very hard at all for me to tell the story on the keyboard. But, if I tried to tell the story verbally, you'd hear a quite different description. My brain blocks so much of my vocabulary from my mouth that I end up sounding like I never went to school in my life, let alone college. But, somehow, I can make sense of my thoughts still, and am able to use this cathartic way to get them out of my head. So, today, if you can have an easy conversation with someone, be thankful for it. Some of us can't.
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