Trene4000

My heels are lower than one inch now due to injuries. However, a heel no higher than two inches is acceptable for practically any occasion. A thick heel for business, work, attending sports events (if you're not wearing sneakers), or when standing for long periods of time (when you don't want to wear a low heel). A narrow heel is acceptable for nights clubbing, dancing, or attending indoor weddings. Never wear brand new heels to any event. When you purchase them, wear them around the house for fifteen minutes first then add ten minutes each day until you can comfortably wear them for an hour without any pain. So make sure to give yourself plenty of time to break in those new shoes before the event you want to wear them to. I hope that helps.

It is truly sad when a person allows the actions of another to sway their judgement especially when dealing with that which is truth.

I can't believe it! I just saw a half hour ago on Twitter while looking at the Buick Avista. He was only three years older than our mother. I hate cancer.

Its that time of the year to either find a new Medicare/Medical program or stick with your current one. These top five scams should be watched for: 1. Switching plans is a must. "Don't ever believe somebody who says you have to change your Medicare Advantage or Part D prescription drug plan," Nozaki says. 2. Medicare is changing cards. It's a scam. Again, Medicare will never call you or show up at your door – or ask you for personal information via email. 3. For you, a special price. Here's how it goes down: Insurance agents tell seniors that for a limited time, they can sign up for an early bird discount – which amounts to a much lower monthly premium for a particular health plan. "Most of the time it's B.S.," Nozaki says. To shop for or enroll in legitimate Medicare Advantage or Part D prescription drug plans, check out the Medicare plan finder at http://www.medicare.gov or call 800-MEDICARE, or 800-633-4227. 4. Health fair scams. A common tactic by vendors with bad intent is to staff a table at a health fair and advertise a free gift, like nutrition supplements. To enter into a drawing for a free prize, you'll be asked to sign up by giving your name and Medicare number, and to come in back in a little while to see if you've won. 5. Phony organizations. Sometimes crooks will get illegal access to your medical information from your doctor's office and call with enough detail about your personal situation to lure you into sharing more personal details that can lead to fraud. For more information, see this site below: https://www.sharecare.com/health/medicare-insurance/article/how-to-protect-yourself-against-common-medicare-scams?cmpid=sc-et-em-00-up-12042015&eid=1100004761&memberid=28449868&_sid=ea95ef38-8030-480f-a314-112e0476ecc8

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Way before I hit my teens I felt a message that my entire life would change completely when I turned 45. I told my sister then and my mother years later. I had been excitedly awaiting this time. My life changed alright. My mother's cancer wasn't a simple kidney cancer but turned out to be a soft tissue sarcoma already at stage 4. I finally established an online friendship with Leonard Nimoy, missed three days, checked my Twitter account only to find out he had died the day before! My mother ends up in hospice. I pull out my back after having an epidural block to stop the pain in the lower spine. I contract a severe bronchial infection. The bronchial infection clears up. My mother dies. I develop a strange pink, lace-like rash that travels down my arms and across my chest accompanied with severe pain in the muscles of my arms that comes and goes with only a strange exhaustion as the only notice of its onset. My original laptop suffers multiple fatal system errors (blue screens) costing me the remainder of my story lines, artwork, songs, and music videos that I was still trying to transfer over to my main system. I develop an infection in my sinus and nasal cavity, as well as my lungs (Fortunately, it isn't contagious.) that robs me of my singing voice and my ability to breathe deep. I can't even shout very loud any more. The pink rash has now spread to my hands, knees, and thighs, and is accompanied by bouts of severe, incapacitating nausea. And now... the day after Thanksgiving, the older dog I had inherited from my mother, the one who had become my best buddy, has died, three days before my 46th birthday. I feel like someone played a very cruel joke on me.

Why did I let my ego get in the way of keeping such a beautiful gift? Why was I being so stubborn? Will I be able to get it back? Will I be allowed to get it back?

Nothing motivates a child to take their nutrients faster than regaling them with details of your childhood tonsillectomy.

Today is World Toilet Day and I for one am thankful for the excellent sanitation we have here!

I managed to rest a little from today's excursions outside but the memories of what the doctors from AAA did to me suddenly surfaced again. I can't escape them, all jumbled up inside my head. The doctor who stabbed my hands and treated me like I lied, she didn't listen to what I said then became angry when I cried. The psych eval doctor who forced me to stare at pictures, fill out forms and gave me food that tasted like dirt who pretended to be two different people until I said something about it then got upset at me. The creepy white haired doctor in the tiny room who kept asking me the same questions about my eyes until he decided to write down what he wanted. The room with the bright windows and expensive bookshelf where a lady with blonde hair whose face I can't see kept asking me questions about how I took care of myself financially before the accident. No one listened or really cared what I said. It didn't matter that I had already been under treatment for four years before AAA canceled my medical coverage and decided to verify my injuries. I had adapted to my new life by then. I worked hard to achieve everything I did. I endured countless hours of injections and therapy in order to see clearly, move my head, bend down, pick up a gallon of milk, travel up and down the street from my house to my mother's by counting how many steps it took from her gate to mine whenever my vision grayed out, relying on family members to help me whenever I suffered seizures, and to walk down a hall without running into objects, walls, or people. They didn't ask me about any of that. They didn't ask about the times my legs would give out and I would fall or someone would catch me. I felt like I was under attack and couldn't do anything to defend myself. Whenever I'm exhausted, those memories would rise up and force me from my sleep. It was horrible and unfair, just so they could save themselves some money. I was already a victim. I was just the passenger in the backseat. I wasn't being greedy or whatever. I was supposed to be going to an interview that Monday for a senior administrative position that paid $63,000 a year with full benefits. I had a future set in place and that driver, who saw eight cars in front of him stopped at a red light but he decided to keep driving (there were only two and he was traveling at 80 mph), took that and my ability to bear offspring away from me. All I want is some way to have a normal life despite being unable to work or fully care for myself. Why am I being punished by AAA for wanting that?

Exhausted and sick to my stomach. The pain is still here and the lacy pink rash has returned only now it isn't only on my arms and chest, but on my knees and starting to travel up my thighs. My baby sister was surprised to see it because it looks like hers. She has lupus.

Humans were created to love and to be loved but we have distorted what the meaning of love is. How can we love another if we hate ourselves and how can we accept love from another if we despise ourselves? Such is the path to destruction. Love is patient and is kind. Love does not envy. Love does not brag or boast of itself nor is arrogant. Love does not behave unseemly nor seeks her own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil, does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

I have got to get better. I'm no help to anyone like this. The kids don't need to watch another sick, bedridden family member. Especially after what happened with their grandmother.

Very early the other morning before the sun rose, I let the dogs out. to ask to come back inside. When they did, I let them back in and as we began walking my mom's perfume filled the kitchen. I was so surprised. I hadn't smelled that scent since her last doctor's appointment in May. On my way through I discovered the scent was throughout the entire downstairs. When I reached the living room where she sits on the mantle I smiled and said "good morning, Ma". The dogs didn't want to go upstairs. We eventually made it back up to bed. When we came down after the sun had risen, her scent was gone. My niece said it was just grandma saying hi. I felt content the rest of the day.

Still burning up with fever.

I miss sleeping naked.

I saw a huge Keeler Oak tree with bright green leaves standing in a field of yellowish- green grass framed by a light morning mist. Suddenly a huge branch, the only one on the right side of the tree, broke off from the trunk of the tree leaving behind a huge gaping section of splintered wood. The huge branch fell silently to the ground. I was jerked wide awake feeling alarmed and confused. There was no apparent reason for the branch to fall. Even awake, I can still see the beautiful oak standing lop-sided within the now golden field. It's leaves are now a Fall orange as it stands unmoving, undisturbed by the loss of such a huge member. What does this mean? I hesitate to contemplate the myriad of possibilities. -------

Will I EVER get off at 6:00 pm?

Hospice care is such a misnomer. They stick you in a room. Give you lots of pain medication (their idea of keeping you comfortable), withhold food and water until you die. What the hell kind of supportive care is THAT!? The definition of hospice care: "Care designed to give supportive care to people in the final phase of a terminal illness and focus on comfort and quality of life, rather than cure. The goal is to enable patients to be comfortable and free of pain, so that they live each day as fully as possible. " Yeah, while you starve to death. I guess they figure if you're stoned out of your gourd you won't notice. Besides, you're dying anyway. Is that how they justify murder? If she wasn't in hospice care and this was done to her, people would be brought up on charges of manslaughter. How sick are you to do this to someone just because they can't ask for food? Oh yeah, a hospice worker can't feed a person unless they ask for food, regardless of how loud their stomach grumbles. They can actually lose their license. Who created this warped, twisted system?! I can't torture my mother like that. The book says the person will refuse food and drink themselves. Until that happens, she can have all the oatmeal, sausage, cinamon-sugar apples, and scrambled eggs she wants.

Find out what song was number one on the day you were born! As a bonus you can also find out how many minutes ago that was as well. For me it was Come Together/Something by The Beatles I was born 24,086,026 minutes ago. Check out yours! http://playback.fm/birthday-song

I use my dreams to escape from reality. Always have. They take the stress off so that when its time to deal with reality I am not bowled over and wrecked. This last dream destroyed that. It dragged reality into my dreamscape. Every time I close my eyes or even blink I see her limp corpse sitting there in front of me, my hands on her shoulders. I feel trapped. I have no place to escape to in order to rest and regroup. I can't do this anymore.

Like screaming and throwing up.

I was installing new telephone and data ports at the house. I didn't recognize the place. It was very large and had many rooms. My brother had given me a specialized request to complete when I went to a room to check on our mother. Suddenly I was dressed in a sort, white flowing dress and was the same size I was back in high school. Our mother was lying on a strange clear pad on a wooden floor. The wood was just like our floors at the home house but slightly newer. She had on a dark blue turban, was wearing her burgundy pullover sweater, navy blue sweatpants, and her favorite black flats. I started dancing and picked up a small dark blue cookie cutter in the shape of wings. I thought to myself, "these aren't large enough". Suddenly they were full-size and I was able to mount them on my back. I danced and danced. The entire time, a voice kept telling me to call our baby sister. Finally, I knelt down to call her. She suddenly brushed my shoulders saying she was already here. Our mother opened her eyes and began talking to me. I called everyone into the room. We sat our mom up and hugged her, laughing and smiling. Suddenly she was in her hospital gown, her turban was gone, she was sickly yellowish and thin. Her head dropped onto my shoulder. The others pulled away and we began screaming and crying. I held her away from me. She had died. She placed her right hand on my left shoulder... but she was still gone. I woke up and nearly vomited.

My body severely reminded me why I don't get up until 10 am.

DANG BLASTED FREAK AND A HALF!!! I pulled my back!!!!