Reality bites . . . .

OK, so, it's no big secret that I have been slacking on the ol' blogger postings as of late. Lots of reasons for that, none of them good, but because I intended for this blog to be a historical record, I will put fingers to keys and document the latest . . .

Faithful readers may remember all of the craziness from last December involving my dad, a car wreck, heart surgery, blood clots, and a host of other complications that plagued him. As of today, he is in a nursing home, receiving therapy and determined to come home as soon as possible. My mother has stayed by his bedside throughout the entire drama, wearing herself to an absolute frazzle. I have begged her to stop holding a bedside vigil and get some rest, but she is resolute. The social worker at the facility is organizing a family meeting for tomorrow; seems that she has noticed some "deficits" in my mother's cognition (read: she thinks my mother is a nut), and is concerned that neither of them is capable of independent living at this point. That's news to them, though; they both think that he can come on home to her new apartment, even though he is bedridden, incontinent, and can't do a thing but feed himself. He ran through all of the benefits he had with his HMO, and now he is on Medicaid, which is a godsend, since his care would be about $4K a month otherwise.

Lessee . . . what else? Started a new job a couple of months ago. Easiest just to break it down into Perceived Good and Reality:

Perceived Good: Flexible hours and ability to work from my home office.
Reality: Frantic calls come in constantly with emergencies that cause me to run around like a cat on fire, followed by deadly silences. Oh, and the hiring manager doesn't like to pay for the deadly silences.

Perceived Good: Solid contract with a reputable contracting firm; great benefits.
Reality: It was only AFTER I had accepted the position that the reputable firm recanted the offer of benefits since the flexible position would dip below 40 hours a week.

Perceived Good: The position was created for a self-motivated, self-managed person.
Reality: The hiring manager expects me to be The Amazing Kreskin.

Perceived Good: Money is coming in, and I no longer have to hide my Honda in my garage to dodge the repo man.
Reality: Yeah, that really is a good thing.

Now don't feel slighted when I tell you this one: I have been blogging, just not here. I found a new site to help me in my constant quest to tame my battles with the scale and food: MyFoodDiary.com I have been busy logging my meals, snacks, exercise and measurements. It all seems very vain and self-centered, but then again, putting myself last has kind of gotten me where I am today, so I am thankful to have found it.

Going to see a cardiologist in the next couple of weeks. Have to have lots of dental work done, and since I contracted a heart infection when I had my wisdom teeth out a couple of years ago, I need a clearance letter before my very nice, new dentist will begin the work that I desperately need (2 root canals, 3 crowns, gum treatments).

Yeah, so, I have been all Lords of Discipline lately. Not much fun, but then again, after seeing what my dad ended up with after ignoring and abusing his body for 4 or 5 decades, I have decided that perhaps a little discipline is in order.

At least Weenie the Wonder Dog and the kids are enjoying our evening walks. They aren't too crazy about all the new vegetables, though.

Celebrations all around . . .

Lots to celebrate this past week.

Hub and I celebrated 10 years of matrimony on the 23rd, and this little ol' blog turned 1 this past weekend.

My, how time flies.

Coolest thing since sliced bread

Skype

Happy Easter

There is quite a bit to be sedate about today.

The pope wasn't able to deliver Easter services, or do little more than wave.

Prince Ranier, the second-longest reigning monarch, is slipping away.

Terry Schiavo's parents have lost their fight, and now await the inevitable.

Much, much TOO much going on to extract much joy from the day.

But, what the hell . . . . Happy Easter anyway, ya'll.




Yes, and No. Yes, they are cute. No, they aren't mine.

Weighing in on the Terry Schindler Schiavo case

This Terry Schiavo thing has really gotten to me.

More than I thought it would.

I didn't really know the whole back story. I knew that she couldn't care for herself, and I knew that she wasn't exactly comatose, either. From the coverage, it seemed pretty clear that her parents and family are devoted to her, but that the husband has moved on, had children with another woman, and seems hell-bent on unplugging her ASAP.

Something about the whole case didn't sit right with me. Aside from the husband's willingness to starve her to death despite her family's wishes, I mean. Something about the whole thing seemed to be more sinister, hidden . . .

Even when I read a breakdown of the complaint filed by the Florida Department of Children and Families (DCF) against Hubby, I still felt that there was more to the story. They are charging him with, among a few other things:

Failure to exercise Terri's arms, resulting in "severe contractures,"
Failure to provide appropriate medical therapy,
Failure to investigate the rehabilitation value of newly available technologies,
Interference in communication with and visitation by Terri's family members and friends,
Denial of access to independent legal counsel,
Failure to file guardianship reports as required by law,
Failure to provide required legal notices to Terri, and
Performing experimental procedures without following proper medical and legal procedures.

It finally became as clear as crystal when I kept reading, kept poking around. I finally realized why the case bothered me so damn much.

But for the grace of God go I.

According to this article, Before fight over death, Terri Schiavo had a life , Terry and I are kindred sisters:

We are the same age.

Like me, she was painfully shy around men.

She was a heavy child and a heavy preteen.

She managed to lose a large amount of weight in her teen years.

When she was still too young to know better, she became smitten with a handsome man that told her that she was beautiful. "It was the first guy who ever, ever paid any attention to her," her mother said.

Within a year of her marriage, her Prince Charming saw her high school graduation picture and warned her "if she ever got fat like that again he'd divorce her."

Her husband was controlling. "When she would go visit her parents or a friend from work, Mrs. Schindler says, Schiavo would check the mileage on her car. She could go to those places (but if she went any) other place, he gave her crap."

Coworkers remember that Michael Schiavo would frequently call his wife at work and leave her in tears.

According to the article, Bobby Schindler says his sister began talking about leaving Schiavo in 1989. "She said she wished she had the strength or the energy or the know-how to get a divorce," he says.

By this time, Terri's weight had dropped below 120 and Mrs. Schindler says she confronted her daughter about how thin she was getting.

Terri most likely collapsed from anorexia. I don't think that alot was known about anorexia back then, but most of the articles that I have read state that she collapsed from potassium disorders and heart failure. Combined with her dramatic weight losses, and pressure from her husband to stay thin, I think it is pretty safe to say that Terri had a serious eating disorder.

To be more blunt, she was constantly ridiculed and threatened by her husband about her weight, she starved herself thin, and she collapsed and lost her life because of her husband Michael Schiavo.

I think she stayed because she truly thought it was all her fault, that she wasn't good enough to leave, that her body was imperfect, and that her husband was the only man that ever WOULD pay any attention to her.

God, I remember feeling that. I fought it. I'm still not sure why I did. What if I had been just a little weaker? What if I had stayed?

We were the same, she and I.

Is anyone else marvelling at the macabre coincidence that starvation got her where she is, and her husband, the one for whom she was willing to starve herself to be allowed to stay, is now demanding that she be starved until she is forced to go?