Dona Nobis Pacem

Today, bloggers across the world are blogging for peace.  Though we may be different, we all have a common, universal hope that peace will come to our planet.  This bold movement starts with us.  Together, we can change the world!

To spread your message of peace, click here.

#blog4peace  #blogblast4peace  #peace

Selfish Sister

My husband gave me the shocking news yesterday:  His sister will be back in the states for a visit in January 2015.  I immediately began having flashbacks of previous visits.  None were pleasant.

The problem?  *Jamie cannot seem to think about anyone but herself.  As soon as the plane lands, you know that the “queen” has arrived. 

Our phones immediately begin to ring.  She wants to know what the plans are for that evening.  Plans?  We do not have time for plans.  We are busy with this little thing called life.

My husband works at a job that deals with route work.  Essentially, his departure time depends upon what time all of the routes return.  Sometimes he is home at 7:00 p.m., other times it may be 8:30 p.m. or later.  It varies from day to day. 

I am also blessed with a full time job.  This means that I work from 8:00 a.m.-4:00 p.m. Monday through Friday.  What she fails to realize is that my “job” does not stop when I leave the office.  Since Matt does not return home until late in the evening, it is my responsibility to let our fur babies outside to potty.  I also carve in time to exercise so that I can maintain my health.  Then, I have a house to take care of.  Usually, there is no down time until it is time to go to bed.

But, trying to explain all of this to her is useless. Jamie cannot seem to comprehend just how busy our lives are because hers is so much different.  Her day typically ends around 3:30 p.m. (Korea time).  That is when she heads back to her apartment where she promptly parks herself on the couch and watches TV (or surfs the web) until bed time.  Her responsibilities are very minimal.

Nonetheless, she practically demands that we put our lives on hold while she is here.  If we turn down too many invitations, she literally tells her mother.  Then we begin getting angry calls from the MIL stating that we do not care about “our sister.”  This is when our weekends get taken away from us, which is really about the only time together that Matt and I have.

Did I mention that when we do finally get together we have to do only what SHE wants to do?  And Jamie has a major addiction:  shopping!  She can easily blow through about $80 a day.  When she sees that Matt and I are not following suit, we appear to be ruining her fun.

This brings me back to that little thing called life.  Like everyone else, we have bills.  There’s the mortgage, utilities, Internet, credit cards, etc.  Not to mention the yearly check-ups for the fur babies.  And do not get me started on groceries!  Have you seen the price of toilet paper lately?

Jamie has a very interesting job situation.  She teaches English as a second language at a Korean school.  As part of the program, she is given a furnished apartment.  Her rent and utilities are paid for.  Plus, she uses the public bus system to get around.  Translation?  She has no car that can spontaneously break down and need emergency repairs.  This is why Jamie appears to have money to burn.

We have tried on numerous occasions to explain that she should be saving her money.  One day she will want to return home for good.  When she does, where will she live?  How will she support herself and her two cats?  No, living with us is NOT an option.

Aside from her constant spending, I noticed another disturbing trend.  Jamie only contacts me when she is “stressed.”  We used to chat on Skype once every month.  She would ask how we were doing, want to see the fur babies and engage us in meaningful conversation.

When I hear the consecutive “dings!” from my Facebook messenger app, I know it’s her.  Her opening remarks?  “OMG!  I am so stressed!”  At first, I would put a lot of thought into my responses and try to help her as best I could.  As these types of conversations became more frequent, I noticed that she never asked how we were.  I began to scale back and simply reply with one word answers.  Jamie would then ask if I was okay because I was not sending her Dr. Phil like advice.

One such session really put me over the edge.  Matt and I were faced with an unexpected expenditure, my Grandma was dying, one of our dogs sprained its’ leg and drama was occurring at both of our jobs.  The fact that Jamie just launched into another tirade about all of the things that were bothering her really upset me.

I decided to give her a dose of her own medicine.  I replied that I knew all about stress and listed all of the items above.  This was met with an “I’m sorry,” and then more about…herself.  What else?

Matt and Jamie were both homeschooled.  While I have nothing against this practice, I do think that it has made Jamie ill-equipped to deal with life’s many ups and downs.  She has led a pretty sheltered life.  I told Matt that she is truly blessed to just now be experiencing stress at age 31.

For me, there was high school, boyfriends, jobs, friend fights, homework, tests, interviews, car and health issues, etc.  I am certainly no stranger to the “s” word.  But, in experiencing these things, I have learned how to cope and move on.  Jamie, on the other hand, literally melts down at the slightest hint of discord.

There will always be a part of me that loves her.  Still, I do not have the time (or the sanity) to devote to coaching her through life.  I want her to find success and happiness, but, she will need to get out of her own way to do so. 

In a world that is becoming ever more narcissistic, we need to be able to see beyond the mirror.  Focusing on others says a lot about who we are.     

 

*name has been changed

Suffocating Sympathy

Three and a half years ago, my Grandma was diagnosed with Mantel Cell Lymphoma.  This is one of the rarest forms of non-Hodgkin’s lymphomas.  There are only about 15,000 people in the United States afflicted with this disease.

I remember getting called out into the hospital hallway with my mother.  The doctor was very blunt:  she had 4-6 months left to live.  Grandma then began to see an oncologist regularly and made the bold decision to have chemotherapy.

We were all expecting the worst.  From what we had heard from the media, chemotherapy was a horrible, almost unbearable treatment that would transform my Grandma into a frail, bald woman. We stayed with her during her very first treatment.  She received the chemotherapy through an i.v.

Where was the radiation chamber that was always shown on the cancer treatment center commercials?  Where was the doctor and team of nurses that should be huddled around her?  Grandma’s chemotherapy was nothing like what we had expected.  She handled her first treatment like a champ.  Her only complaint was that she felt cold, which is very common for the type of treatment she received.

Much to our surprise, Grandma still looked like Grandma.  All of her beautiful gray hair remained firmly on her head.  And her strong spirit was very much evident.  A fighter through and through.

At 91 years old, Grandma was still living at home by herself.  She had a visiting nurse that would come to her house three times a week.  The woman would cook, clean, go shopping, whatever Grandma needed.  But in July of this year, Grandma fell in her bathroom a week after receiving her sixth chemo treatment.  Luckily, she hadn’t hit her head or broken any bones.

She was taken to the hospital where it was discovered that she had renal failure.  Her heart condition was also flaring up AND she developed tumor lysis syndrome.  The oncologist stated that attempting to do any more treatments would be dangerous given her multiple health issues.

Without the chemo, Grandma quickly came out of remission.  The cancer was back and more aggressive than ever.  My mother called me on October 8^th to tell me that Grandma was being placed in Hospice care at the nursing home she had been staying at.

On our way to meet with the Hospice nurse, my mom received another call.  All of Grandma’s doctors decided that she would remain at the hospital for in-patient Hospice.  We had no idea what that meant at the time, but we knew it couldn’t be good.  That is when we learned that instead of having 4-6 months left, she only had 3-5 days.

Grandma continued to fight and made it up to day five.  I personally think that she hung on just to spite the one particularly nasty Hospice nurse who said she would not be around by day 3.  Grandma never was one to be told what to do.

On October 13^th, Grandma went to be with Grandpa in heaven.  I know that God has deemed her His spunkiest angel.

My family and I received a huge outpouring of sympathy and support.  Facebook exploded after I posted that Grandma had passed.  Our neighbor even baked us cinnamon rolls and a loaf of bread!

But, I have learned that there are certain “expectations” that come along with the grieving process.  Specifically the “meltdown.”  Everyone continues to ask me and my mother how we are.  Mom’s response has been “fine” and mine is “okay.”  While I certainly understand the intent of the question, it tends to get a bit ridiculous after a while.

What I would really like to say is:  “I am horrible.  I still cannot believe that my Grandma is no longer going to be a part of my life.  Some days, it even hurts to breath.  I really would like to just stay at home with my fur babies and ignore the world entirely.”

What I cannot understand is why a majority of people are still watching me and my mom to see if we are going to “blow.”  And how they are acting like it is totally strange that we haven’t yet.  My mom and I are very similar in how we grieve.  We are not going to be giving anyone a public “show.” 

There will be no crying jags or shouting outbursts.  Nor will we become quiet and withdrawn.  We both know that we have jobs that we need to do.  Responsibilities to uphold.  Grandma would want us to carry on because she knows that no one will ever forget her.  We just take it one day at a time.

This does not mean that we are not constantly hurting.  Or that we do not care.  Our silence is not an indication that we are gold diggers nor secret serial killers.  No amount of waterworks or screaming will bring Grandma back to us.  Hating the world and everyone in it will not change the fact that she is gone.

One of the attributes that Grandma always loved about me is my positive attitude.  To become a hermit or a hater would only disappoint her.  Instead, I choose to honor her memory by remaining a ray of light in a darkened room.

When we lose someone we love, we should not stop loving.  Everyone, animals included, needs love.  It is the most powerful force in this world.

While love can help to heal a broken heart, one cannot tell a heart when it has been mended.  Grieving is a natural process that is different for each individual.  We should respect each other’s process and cast off our preconceived notions about what is “normal.”

Challenging Changes

Silence filled the conference room.  My co-workers nervously fidgeted in their seats.  I proceeded to doodle on my notepad as we waited for the meeting to begin.

“Guys, we’re moving,” said our boss.

Stunned looks rapidly appeared on everyone’s faces.  This was not the type of news they were wanting to hear.  I could tell that they were tuning out the rest of conversation.

Once the meeting concluded, the grumbling began.  They already had their minds made up that the move was not going to work.  While some of their concerns were valid points, many were simply complaints about being forced to change.

To me, moving was not a big deal.  At one of my former jobs, we had to move our desks at least once a month to “shake things up.”  I have become quite the pro and packing and unpacking my desk space.

This news really got me thinking about change.  Why are such a great number of people adverse to change?  Let me be the first to admit that I am not a fan of having to switch up my daily routine.  One reason is that I feel comfortable and confident in the way that  I currently run my processes.  I love coming in, sitting down and getting right to work.  Knowing exactly how my day will go is not boring, but comforting.

I also find that I tend to second guess myself frequently whenever the administration decides to run/process things differently.  Typically, we run into issues and for some reason, I tend to get blamed if things to not turn out as they had planned.  There also seems to be a greater chance for errors, leading to more belittling by the staff causing my self-esteem to plummet.

But, I have learned that change is not always the scary monster that it appears to be.  Case in point, at one of my previous jobs, I ended up making a wonderful new friend after being forced to move desks with another co-worker.  If I would not have moved, I never would have connected with this person or developed such a strong friendship with him/her.

My 91 year old grandmother recently moved into a nursing home.  At first, she was terrified.  She worried that no one would like her and she would be all alone.  But, she is surrounded by people her own age, offered daily activities to participate in and raves about how delicious the food is.  Grandma is now quite content with her new home.

Two years ago, my dad was diagnosed with Type II Diabetes.  He was completely devastated.  Giving up cookies and cakes seemed like a horrible punishment.  However, he has since gotten his numbers under control and is now healthier than ever due to his new life style.  And he has even developed a taste for some of the gluten free foods.

Perhaps the biggest change that I have ever undergone was getting married.  I have never had a fear of commitment, so marrying my best friend was very exciting.  But, once we returned from our honeymoon, the fairytale sparkle of our new marriage began to fade a bit.  Life began to throw more challenges at us.  Suddenly, that carefree life that we lived for a week in Disney World turned into worrying about money and bills.  We began to argue, which I foolishly thought people in love didn’t do.  But over time, we began to learn what was really worth fighting about and how to deal with life’s ups and downs.  Five years later, our love is stronger than ever…because we learned to accept change.

Some of the best moments of your life can come out of change.  We recently adopted a double dapple Dachshund who was born without eyes and is completely deaf.  This new addition truly shook things up in our house!  Learning how to live with a differently abled animal was very tough at first.  And Hope had to learn the layout of a completely new house, which she managed to do in a matter of days.  This amazing little dog has changed our lives for the better.  She has made us more compassionate and continues to inspire us every day with her determination and feisty spirit.

So in the end, it doesn't really matter who gets the window seat.  You can have the best view wherever you are if you choose to embrace change.

 

Grass Gripe

I received a very shocking phone call today from my husband.  One of the our city’s administrators called and informed him that he needs to mow the grass in our backyard.  How did this administrator know that we needed to mow?  A lady called in to complain!

 

Needless to say, I was speechless.  My first thought is, how did this “lady” see our BACK YARD?  We live along a street with our front house literally on the city sidewalk.  There is no front lawn, only the backyard, which cannot be seen from the front of the house.  In fact, the only way to see the backyard is walk around the side of our house or drive down the alley behind our house.

 

How can our grass offend someone?  It is OUR grass in OUR yard.  Unless this person would like to contribute to our monthly mortgage payment or property tax, I think she should mind her own business.  And who has time to go around inspecting people’s yards, anyway?

 

RETIRED PEOPLE!  Yes, we are surrounded by retired people.  While I have nothing against those who have put in their time as a productive member of society, I find that once these people retire, they become bored.  Suddenly, they have nothing better to do than pick on their fellow neighbors.  I can think of tons of things that I would do if I could retire right now:  travel, write, read, play video games, snuggle with my fur babies, etc.  I would NOT go around town trying to make trouble.

 

My husband and I have nothing against cutting our grass.  However, we do have a problem with someone else TELLING us when we need to mow our grass.  Matt and I both work full time.  He typically does not get home until 8:30 or 9:00 p.m.  I really doubt that this lady would want him to fire up the lawn mower at that time of night. 

 

Secondly, I was raised that women do not mow.  My mom was always told that she would probably chop her foot off, so I was never taught how to mow.  And Matt so graciously agrees with this upbringing.  I take care of the inside of the house and he takes care of the outside.  

 

Thirdly, it has been ridiculously hot outside.  The temperature has been in the upper 90’s all week.  According to my car’s temperature sensor, it felt like 108 degrees yesterday.  How does this lady expect us to mow in this extreme heat?

 

Finally, Matt has asthma.  The biggest thing that affects him?  Temperature.  If he gets too cold or too hot, he has to take his inhaler, often multiple times.  If that is not successful, he has to use his portable nebulizer.  And if that doesn’t do the trick, we have to head to the ER.  There is no way that I am going to jeopardize his health over something as silly as grass.

 

I really wish that people would just mind their own business.  Case in point, we have a woman that lives down the street from us.  She owns the yappiest dog in the world.  Seriously, you can hear this dog barking at all hours of the day.  But, I would never dream of calling the police for a "noise disturbance."  All dogs are different and bark for varying reasons.  And I know how difficult it can be to quiet a dog that is already riled up.

What upsets me the most is that this person didn't even try to politely ask us to mow our grass.  Instead, she went behind our backs and called a town administrator, making us sound like we are a pair of ruthless criminals.

I hope that this person realizes how lucky she is to have us as neighbors.  Matt and I don't drink or smoke.  We never have any wild and crazy parties.  We don't have any "domestic disturbances."  In fact, we pretty much keep to ourselves.

Why our grass offended this woman, I do not know.  I am even more surprised that our house didn't upset her.  It's pink.

Drama Divas

I am about to share a very personal story with you. This is something that I rarely talk about due to its upsetting nature. However, after what transpired yesterday, I feel compelled to blog about my experience.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of one of my friends. We will call him *Jimmy. In 1999, Jimmy took his own life because he was being bullied at school. No one knew that he was being stuffed into lockers daily. He was such a quiet person that he rarely shared his feelings with anyone.

As I was scrolling through my Facebook feed last night, I saw a very interesting post from one of my “friends.” *Jessica had posted a picture of Jimmy on her wall along with the following:

“I love you, Jimmy and you will be in my heart always.”

I was enraged upon reading this post. Allow me to explain why. Jimmy and I became boyfriend/girlfriend at the end of our 8^th grade year. We “dated” that summer (although we never actually went to each other’s house). We would talk on the phone for hours, say “I love you” and hang up. Hey, we were new to the dating scene.

Before beginning our freshman year at high school, we “broke up” via e-mail. We still remained close friends and even had a class together. I then began dating my first “real” boyfriend, *Mike.

I found out about Jimmy’s death at school that day. It was like everything was moving in slow motion. I kept thinking it was some horrible nightmare that I would eventually awaken from. But, it was very real.

My fellow students kept coming up and asking me if I was okay since they knew we had “dated.” To be honest, I just felt numb. I wanted to go home and cry and throw things around.

I spoke very briefly with the school counselor. I was raised to be a strong person, so I mumbled that I was fine because I really didn’t know how I felt (or what I was feeling, for that matter). The topic of suicide never came up at home or in any discussions with my friends. It was only discussed briefly in health class along with the lesson on depression.

Getting back to Jessica’s post, when Mike and I left school early the following day to attend Jimmy’s funeral, she was nowhere to be found. When I attended the wake and was sobbing uncontrollably after Jimmy’s cousin (who was also in the same year in school) told me how much Jimmy cared about me and that I had made him happy, Jessica was not there.

Jessica and I had been best friends in grade school, but when I began to gain more friends (and the attention of boys) in high school, things began to fizzle. She became a major drama queen and even threatened to kill herself because I ended up dating a boy that she had been obsessed with. My mom had to call her and tell her to quit with the nonsense because I came home from school in hysterics fearing that I would see the death of another person I cared about.

Jimmy’s passing has left numerous scars on my heart and mind. I still suffer from flashbacks, nightmares and anxiety attacks when someone even mentions the word “suicide.” But, Jessica, who barely even knew him, feigns as if she lost her BFF.

So, now here she is, 15 years later acting as if she and Jimmy were inseparable. They only hung out once: at my birthday party. She never talked to him at school, but yet, he “will always be in her heart.” And she is claiming to be a supporter of suicide prevention, but she would ALWAYS threaten to do herself in if she didn’t get her way. Talk about a hypocrite!

I truly cannot understand people who join in on a tragedy simply to get attention. I find that most of these people tend to be girls, so I call them Drama Divas. They are addicted to anything dramatic and love to start rallies, post, tweet and be at the forefront so that they will be noticed. Personally, I think that this behavior is shameful. Why pretend that someone’s death affects you when it does not?

Case in point, there was a girl, *Emily, that I went to school with. We were even in the same Girl Scout troop. She was killed in a car accident in 2004. I did not attend the wake nor was I present at the funeral. When people post touching memorials on Facebook on the anniversary of her death, I do not enter a tearful tribute. Why? Because Emily and I were not friends. In fact, she tormented me at every single Girl Scout meeting. I certainly did not wish Emily any ill will, however, since she had never been a part of my world, why would I pretend that her death greatly affected me and my life?

Please understand that I was upset to learn of her passing. I want everyone to be able to live a long and happy life, no matter what path they choose. But to act as if I thought about Emily every day thereafter or that her departure from this world changed my life would be a cruel lie. And to try to seek attention from her death would be absolutely despicable.

I believe that there is a fine line between showing your support for someone and attempting to steal the spotlight, so to speak. I also find it exceedingly disrespectful to the family of the deceased loved one. There is nothing worse than having to deal with a fake person while you are in the midst of a personal tragedy.

While I have not un-friended Jessica, I find that I am greatly disappointed in her. It appears that she is still up to her old tricks and tactics to get people to notice her. In the end, I simply feel sorry for her that she feels she must use the tragedies of others to make herself feel happy.

*Names have been changed

Heartless Heathens

When Adriel passed the test to become a certified therapy dog with Therapy Dogs International, Matt and I were thrilled. We could not wait to share our little treasure with those who are really in need of a smile.

In the past three years, we have gone to so many different places and have met many wonderful people. My personal favorites are the local Kids’ Club and a center for Autistic boys. Their faces lit up when Adriel pranced into the room.

Unfortunately, while visiting a care center, I contracted C. Diff. This is probably the nastiest bug that I have EVER contracted. The C. Diff virus messes up the natural balance of bacteria in your colon. For me, this meant many frequent trips to the restroom coupled with extreme gas. Not the kind that you can smell, but the kind that you can hear rumbling around in your belly from across the room.

The first week that I was on medication to clear up the C. Diff was great. I was finally starting to feel like myself again. But the second week, I just wanted to die. Literally. I had to miss an entire week of work because not only was I running to the restroom, I also felt like I was going to throw up 24/7.

I spent the entire week sleeping and trying to eat. I would definitely say that this was the worst week of my entire life. Once the medication was done and over with, things seemed to go back to normal.

However, as my life became more stressful, the issue cropped back up. I was terrified that the C. Diff had returned. I deposited several stool samples at my doctor’s office to be tested. Each one came back negative. Whew!

So, if I didn’t have C. Diff again, what was the problem? My doctor did his best to cure me. He prescribed this disgusting orange powder to drink. It didn’t help. Finally, after dealing with this issue for 6 months, I was sent to a G.I. specialist.

A colonoscopy was soon scheduled. I must say, the prep work was the worst part. The actual procedure itself was a piece of cake. The doctor and his staff were fantastic. I waited patiently for the results. Then I got the call: normal!

To be completely sure, I had to have a second procedure done. This one involved swallowing a camera and being hooked up to a monitor that recorded the pictures that the camera took. Not painful at all. A bit weird, but no pain.

Yesterday, I received the call: normal again! While I am relieved to know that there is nothing serious going on, I am still having colon issues. So, the nurse scheduled me for another consultation next Friday, August 29^th. 

This is the busiest time of year at my job. So busy that we are not allowed to take time off during the entire month of August. I never thought of this as a big deal since I hardly ever take time off to do something fun. It is almost always a doctor’s appointment or a car repair.

I have always prided myself on making my appointments for the absolute latest time during the day. This way, I can save what little sick/vacation/personal time that I have. I also feel that this is the most respectful thing to do in regards to my employer.

The time off request slip was placed in my inbox. While the time was approved, the following note was written on the bottom of the slip:

“Lauren, please try not to schedule appointments for the month of August as we are not to approve any time off requests.”

I was shocked. Stunned. Livid! I was not asking to take the whole day off. I was asking for one measly hour. My appointment is at 3:30 p.m. I wanted to leave at 3:00 p.m. (and I work from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.). I could not believe that I was being chastised for trying to take care of my health.

Not to mention that next Friday is August 29^th, the LAST DAY of August. Our crazy-busy time has already come and gone, and they know that. What was I supposed to tell the doctor and nurses who are trying to make me feel better? “I’m sorry. While I am still having horrible colon issues, I regret to inform you that my bosses do not care about my health and I will have to reschedule my appointment for some time in September.”

Needless to say, my work moral is officially shot. While I will continue to work with the same professional attitude and efficiency I always have, in my mind, I will simply be coming for the paycheck. I have lost all respect for my bosses. Knowing that they simply do not care about my health and well-being is crippling and I will never view them the same way again.

I do not understand why many jobs are treating their employees this way. My husband’s job expects the employees to be superhuman and to never get sick. While they accrue sick time, they are often penalized by their supervisor for using it. How can you perform at your best when you are not in good health? Not to mention that I have personally experienced getting sick from fellow co-workers who knew that they were too sick to come to work, but literally had no choice. Do the bosses not understand that allowing one sick employee to come to work has the potential to make ALL of their employees sick?

Additionally, more and more jobs seem to seek total control of their employee’s lives They do not care that their employees have lives outside of work. These people have families, pets, and hobbies. How can there be a balance between work and home when jobs are becoming so demanding?

Case in point, we were all required to work two 12 hour shifts and one weekend shift for the past two weeks. I worked my weekend shift and turned right around and worked my second 12 hour shift that following Monday. I did not really get a weekend. I had no time to catch up on sleep or relax. And I have felt exhausted for the remainder of the week.

Why does it have to be this way?  Instead of being rewarded for our hard work and dedication, we are punished for being human and getting sick or for wanting to spend time with our spouses/family/friends.  I truly wish that there was something that could be done, however, at this point, we all feel stuck.  While we are somewhat lucky to have the jobs that we do, it is hard to work for an employer that you know does not care about you and does not view you as a fellow human being.