CELEBRATING A MILESTONE

Five years ago, today, on July 7, 2012,, I wrote my first Confessions of a Disabled Diva blog post. I didn't remember the date until it showed up in my news feed on Facebook.  Five years, 190 posts. This blog began as an experiment. I wanted to see if I could write something other than children's stories. I wanted to see if I could write a blog that adults would want to read.

My first post was about Lucie. I knew writing about her would be easy for me. Everyone knew how much she meant to me. She meant even more after my mom passed away. I wanted people to know just how special Lucie was.  I rolled up to my desk and began typing. When the post was finished, I'd written a post titled "For the Love of Lucie." https://confessionsofadisableddiva.blogspot.com/2012/07/for-love-of-lucie.html The post described in detail what a doggie diva Lucie was. Lucie and I went through some tough times together. her companionship was invaluable. I think of her every day.

I kept writing. I wrote about everything from struggles with caregivers to Cher. I wanted people to know what my life was like. I wanted people to know what it is like to be dependent on other people for almost everything. I always tried to end with a positive message. I always tried to give my readers something to think about.

I  have always been an advocate for people with disabilities. In 2014, when my life changed forever, I became an advocate for people in long-term care communities as well. I began blogging about how conditions were here.  How understaffing effects resident care. People need to know what life is like in a facility on a daily basis.  How will conditions ever improve if people aren't made aware of the issues residents face? Changes are happening at this facility. I hope the changes will be positives ones. I hope the changes improve the quality of life for those of us who live here.

I am trying to find an alternative living situation. Cerebral Palsy is a developmental disability. I must work with the Department of Mental Health. I have reactivated my case with them. I will be getting a case manager to assist me. Whatever happens, I will take my readers on the journey with me.

Writing this blog is therapeutic for me. If I write a post and publish it, I feel better because my voice is being heard.

Five years. 191 posts now. I hope my message of hope and perseverance has made a difference.

Thank you to those of you who have supported this blog for the past five years. Here's to five more.

IT'S WHAT GOD CALLED HER TO DO

Sondra Barker is the new assistant activities director here. She believes in doing "whatever God calls her to do."

Besides raising her own threes children, Sondra raised her nephew from the age of six until he was twenty. She is now raising her fourteen-year-old granddaughter as well as her ten-year-old grandson. To ensures that her grandson would not remain a ward of the state, Sondra, and her husband took foster parenting classes.

They learned CPR and their home was inspected to make sure it was safe. Even their pets were scrutinized.  Sondra and husband were required to make sure that their pet's vaccinations were up to date. About a year after they had become his foster parents, they petitioned the court to become his legal guardians. The judge praised Sondra for taking such good care of her grandson. They were granted full custody. Because of his grandmother's love and support, her grandson will never have to worry that he will become a ward of the state again.

Sondra credits two sisters, Effie and Elsie, for inspiring her interest and compassion for the elderly. They were her babysitters when she was eight or nine years old. Effie and Elsie taught Sondra to love Lawrence Welk. I have a feeling that her memories of Lawerence Welk bring back fond memories of Effie and Elsie too.

Sondra tells the elderly, "If you have a story to tell, tell it to a young person."She tells young people, "Listen to an older person. Listen to their stories. You can learn a lot."

Sondra loves to sit and offer comfort to people when they are passing away. She will hold their hand or sing to them if they are afraid. Sondra believes there are two times when we are the closest to heaven. When we are born and when we are dying. Both times Jesus and the angels are in the room with us.  Once, When she was doing nails at a facility, a lady asked to come to her room and do her nails. By the time Sondra got there, the lady had died. Sondra still did the lady's nails because that was her last request. She received an award for honoring the women's request.

When Sondra was a nurse's aide, in the sixties, she did what she was told to do. She didn't complain. She had compassion for the people that she cared for.

Sondra has worked at a number of facilities in the activities department. When she was a director she was sent to school. She has her chauffer's license. She is also a deputy. Sondra can register people to vote.

Before taking the position of assistant activities director here, Sondra had been a lunch lady at a school near her home. She liked that job very much. She applied for the position of activities director here She was offered the assistant director position. When she walked into this facility she knew that it was where God wanted her to be.

I wish there were more people like Sondra working at this facility. I wish there more people like Sondra in the world. She the most selfless and compassionate person I have ever met. She makes resident's lives better.by doing what God calls her to do.

R E S P E C T

Those of you who read my blog regularly are familiar with the fact that the gentleman at my table has yelled, cursed, and pointed his finger at me He has also told me how disrespectful I am. The only thing I am guilty of is asking him to move over a little bit so he didn't hit my foot.

This morning, at breakfast, the gentleman yelled at me.  He yelled at a nurse. He told both of us he could yell if he wanted.  He said that he even yelled at his mother. 

It's not about him hitting my foot, It is about the lack of respect he has shown me. He wants me to move. I have always refused. I do not think it is fair to reward an individual's poor behavior. He has made his feelings very clear telling me, "I wish you'd move." "I thought you were eating in your room." I refused. I was trying to teach him a lesson. You don't always get your way. This is especially true when you live in a facility.   I wanted to get the respect  I deserve. It is not my job to teach him anything.  

What is more confusing to me is that he gets along well with the other female resident at the table. He has never yelled at them in my presence. I have tried to show interest in the things that interest him. We are adults I thought the two of us could be civil to each other. I know now that's not going to happen. 

The only thing I have control over is my behavior. I have been in this facility for almost three years. I have learned that yelling does not win you any friends here. It makes people not want to help you. I am trying hard to change my behavior.  I am claustrophobic.  If I am in bed and the door is closed, I feel trapped.  I  will call for help because  I am afraid of being forgotten. If I cannot reach my call light, when I am in bed, I will call for help too.  

I can do one of two things. Change tables or suck it up and stay where I am. I like the other woman at my table. She and I have never had an issue.

I am sad that this issue is still continuing at my table. I am sad because the gentleman doesn't know. how disrespected I felt. I am sad that he thinks his behavior toward me is okay. I am sad that he just has no manners. I feel sorry for him. I am sad because he always makes me feel like I am the one who is causing a problem at the table.   I stay in my room and write. I try not to bother anyone. If the room trays were not given out so late, I would eat my lunch and dinner in my room. It would be peaceful and quiet. I am sad that he is the reason I will probably change tables.

We all live in this facility together. We do not have to like each other. However, we should respect each other. Respect means everything.

ICON IS SPELLED C H E R

I have written several columns for The Mac Wire regarding Cher receiving Billboard Music's Icon Award this Sunday. would not be considered a  diehard fan if I didn't write a post on my personal blog as well. 

I could give you stats. I could tell you that she has had a hit in on the charts in every decade since the sixties. I could also tell you that her Farewell Tour ran for three years. It was the highest-grossing tour of all time by a female artist, However, this post is not about stats.

The definition of an icon is someone who is admired and successful. Cher has certainly been successful. She is also admired by millions of people.  That definition is not why I consider her to be an icon.

Today is Cher's birthday. Last year, on her birthday, I received a personally autographed photo from her. The photo was not obtained easily. I drove people nuts to get it. I am forever grateful.

Her inscription on the photo of"Keep Strong" is so appropriate/ Less staff, but more residents on my floor mean a longer wait for assistance. Sometimes, when  I don't think I will make it, her words come into my mind. I  look up at the framed autographed photo on my wall. I know that I have to make it. I have no other choice. 

When she was told she couldn't do something, she did it anyway. When people thought she was finished, she proved them wrong and came back stronger. No matter how many times she has been knocked down, she gets up and keeps going.

"After the nuclear holocaust, they'll be cockroaches and Cher." This quote fits Cher. It means she is strong and she will endure.

Strength and endurance are what make Cher an icon.

Happy Birthday, Cher. Congratulations on the Billboard Icon Award. Billboard could not have chosen a more deserving recipient.
   

LITTLE THINGS MAKE THE BIGGEST MEMORIES

. My mom would be so embarrassed that I used this photo. "Oh, for heaven's sake, my hair's in curlers." My mom washed her hair every Saturday and put it in curlers at our kitchen table. The pink plastic curlers were in a box that was falling apart. She would prop a mirror up in front of the box and roll her hair around each curler, making sure each curl was just right.  This is a great photo. Mom has finished putting her hair in curlers. Lucie's on her lap. Both of them are ready for a relaxing afternoon. This photo has been the wallpaper on my laptop for the past seven years. It reminds me of a typical Saturday morning at home.

Saturday nights, we would go to Pietro's, a neighborhood restaurant. Mom would order pasta with chicken and vegetables with a pink sauce. "Could you mix them?" Mom would ask. They were not supposed to mix the red and white sauces, but they did it for her.  She would also order decaf coffee with Kahlua. She would always be sure to add, "And don't forget the whipped cream" when ordering her drink.

For my mom's ninetieth birthday, her great-grandson made her a necklace. He had strung colored beads on a string. She loved that necklace. She wore it every day. She would tell anyone who admired it, "My great-grandson made it for me." The beads and pattern were so pretty that people thought that she had bought them at a store. When Mom died, I was given the necklace. I wore it every day. It made me feel closer to her. When the string broke, Witt and his mom fixed it and sent it back to me.  I wore it until it broke again. Then, I carried some of the beads in my purse for a long time. I knew how much joy wearing it had given my mom.  I felt the same joy when I wore the necklace. I was not ready to lose what the necklace represented, a connection to my mother.

My mother loved Everybody Loves Raymond, Wheel of Fortune, and the Game Show Network. She never tired of watching them. 

Pink curlers, a necklace made of beads, coffee with Kahlua, pasta with a pink sauce, sitcoms, and game shows. These little things made the biggest memories.

Happy Mother's Day

ESCAPE TO AGUA AZUL

Living in a facility is not easy. I have heard it compared to living in a mental institution or a prison, There is so much noise in the dining room I cannot have a conversation with the person sitting across from me.  I

I've witnessed an adult walking down the hall wearing nothing but a diaper I cannot sit outside in front of this facility without supervision/ I'd say that is an apt analogy

An escape. I had to find one. My answer came via Netflix.   I discovered telenovelas. A telenovela is a Latin American soap opera produced in or televised form, in Latin American countries.

Unlike American soap operas. telenovelas usually run for a maximum of a year. That's the first thing that attracted me to them. I love American soap operas. There are times when they seem to drag on forever without moving forward.  I knew the telenovela would reach a conclusion in a specific number of episodes.

I started watching Lo Que La Vida Me Robo.  The English translation is, The Life You Stole From Me. Each night I  traveled to Agua Azul where beautiful Monserrat Mendoza is in love with Jose Luis. Montserrat's family is in financial trouble. Her mother forces her to marry Alejandro to solve their financial problems. Alejandro inherited his father's fortune.  He promises to pay all the Mendoza family's debts as long as Monserrat becomes his wife.

I got caught up in the story. I didn't even mind reading the subtitles. This telenovela allowed me to travel to another country. I will never physically be able to travel again. I got to travel to Mexico every night.  I saw palm trees, blue skies, and a beach where the water was the bluest I'd ever seen. I was inspired to learn about another country and its culture.  I've learned a little Spanish online. I can recognize many words, but my pronunciation needs a lot of practice.  My ability to make typos isn't only limited to English. I make them in Spanish now too.

I'd like to thank the cast and crew of Lo Que La Vida Me Robo, for the gift they gave me. They allowed me to escape this facility.  It did not matter that my escape was only in my mind. I got lost in other people's problems and forgot about my own. I forgot I was in this facility.

I can't think of a better gift than that.








..

THE BIG 6-0

When my mom turned fifty. I was twelve. I thought she was really ancient. In a few days, I will be celebrating my sixtieth birthday. I was wrong. Fifty is not that old after all.

I have been thinking about the significance of this birthday// What makes it different from all of my other birthdays?   

Well, for one thing, I am letting myself eat junk food my entire birthday week. All the cookies, cake, chips and ice cream I want. When the week is over, it will be back to salad and fruit. Until then, I am having a great time.

On my fiftieth birthday, I told a friend how much I disliked turning fifty. It seemed so old. She said fifty was a great age to be. She said that I should embrace it and be happy. I didn't appreciate her words then, but I do now.

That's what's different for me about turning sixty. I will embrace it. I will be happy. I want to have fun. I want to laugh.  I have always been afraid of embarrassing myself.  I finally understand that life is too short to worry about what other people think.  As long as I know that I am doing the best I can, that's all that matters.  During her Believe Concert Cher said, "It's really fun to be old and stupid."   She was right. Living in a facility will always suck.  As long as I have people in my life who make me laugh and allow me to be silly sometimes, I think I will be okay.

The best gift anyone can give me is to visit me. I get very lonely here. Having visitors on my birthday would mean a lot to me.

This birthday is about being positive. It's about looking forward. It's about being hopeful.

My sixtieth birthday is going to be awesome. I cannot wait!!