Dogs Bite & It Hurts

Amidst playful interaction with a big, strong, beautiful creature, my hand got caught between a play toy and a fang. In a split second joy turned to pain and laughter turned to tears. Instantly, I was bruised and bleeding. 

I took drugs. I applied ice. I dried my tears. 

After a night's rest, I awoke still hurting and swollen. The bruising was worse but I hear it gets worse before it gets better. The wound is raw so I covered it with a bandage to protect it from outside elements. Eventually though, I will have to unwrap it, stop hiding it and let my wound get some air.

I might be a little jumpy around dogs for a while. A little mistrusting perhaps... And there will probably be a scar.

Dogs bite sometimes. Even when they don't mean to hurt you... Even when it just happens... Even when it starts out as fun and one thing leads to another... Even when they are the sweetest most wonderful dog you've ever met... It hurts.

Counting Sheep

For the last 8 weeks, I haven't slept more than 4 or 5 hours in a night. I have tried everything from downing NyQuil (which usually knocks me out completely) to warm milk & a hot bath but nothing works. The only thing I haven't tried is counting sheep.

The sleeplessness is a result of stress. And the increased stress is a result of sleeplessness. And I've gotten caught up in a cycle that I can't seem to escape. Fortunately, I am not alone. There are insomniacs everywhere. 

Sleep deprivation has become one of the greatest health risks in America. The effects are, quite frankly, frightening. Studies have shown that people who do not get enough sleep increase there risk for many types of cancer, including colon cancer and breast cancer. The increased inflammation in the body of a person who is perpetually tired can cause strokes and heart attacks. If you are a lucky sleepy person, you only have to deal with mental impairments such as slow reaction time, inability to concentrate, decreased memory and problems processing information. And, whether you are aware of it or not, if you are not getting enough sleep, your emotional response to everything is heightened.

Eight weeks of no sleep. I suppose the longer this goes on, the more at risk I am for death. Not that I am ready for that but, a nice long sleep sounds good. In the meantime, hit me up if your awake at 3AM. I 'll be awake. Just me and those sheep.

A Time

To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun.

A time to be born and a time to die;

a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

a time to kill and a time to heal ...

a time to weep and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn and a time to dance ...

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to lose and a time to seek;

a time to rend and a time to sew;

a time to keep silent and a time to speak;

a time to love and a time to hate;

a time for war and a time for peace.

Sometimes I don't understand the timing of the events in my life. And I wonder how different the outcome of those events would have been in another time. Last August, I closed the doors on a rather lengthy chapter and entered into, what was supposed to be, a liberated phase of my life.

Financially free for the first time, finally emotionally stable after a two year sabbatical from relationships and optimistically looking into the future, I leaped into this new season. Optimistic is not a word typically used to describe me. But for the first time, I was walking on air. Nothing could bring me down. My confidence was at an all-time high and I was so excited about life. When I landed on my feet, I found myself in a new job that I loved, surrounded by people who laughed with me and believing that maybe my time had come.

A couple of months passed and I woke up one morning, not only grounded in nearly every area of my life but also in love. It was amazing and almost unbelievable to me that the pieces of my life's puzzle seemed to be falling into place after 36 years of impatiently but hopefully waiting. I had met someone who looked and felt like me in spirit. A mirror image almost... A good soul, an old soul... Strong in spirit, bold of heart...

Soon enough, he recognized that I seemed to be keeping pace with life a few steps ahead of him. He mentioned it. But I thought, if I kept moving and demonstrating how great life was from my view, that he would rush to catch up. But it wasn't time for him.

Obviously there is more to the story... but that's for us. (No offense, friends.)

Last night, I saw him for the first time in months. My heart is broken but my perspective has changed in the last month or so. Our timing really sucked. That's the bottom line. I hate that I met him at the time that I did. I hate that I got caught up in the middle of his weakness and recklessness. And I don't understand why fate orchestrated our meeting during that time. 

Because in another time, he and I would have or could have been really good together.

But we didn't meet in another time. And so, I am thankful anyway. Because I am afraid that if I hadn't met him in the midst of his mess, I may have never met him at all. And my life would be less because of it.

If you could know, would you?

If you could know that you were going to die, would you? If you had the opportunity to live your last few days or weeks or hours aware of what was to come, would you? If you could spend your time to its fullest potential, preparing for your death, would you? Just curious...

We Have a Heart for You

"We have a heart for you." ~Grey's Anatomy

As of today at 8 p.m. CST, there are almost 100,000 people in the United States waiting for an organ transplant. On any given day, according to the Mayo Clinic 4000 people are awaiting new hearts.

Studies, including interviews with heart recipients, have shown that the heart has long-term memory. There is no other organ of the body that is so attached to human emotion and feeling and those studies demonstrated the heart's ability to remember food cravings and even some lifestyle preferences. Some have even suggested that the heart is the hub of logic and reasoning, two responsibilities formerly assigned to the brain.

There are days when I think I could stand a heart transplant. Maybe a bigger heart that has a bigger capacity to love and be loved. Or a smaller heart that has to be pickier due to limited space. Or maybe the heart of a vegetarian tri-athlete who is really good with money and loves being single.

On the flip side, what would I have to offer someone who needed my heart? A love for men in uniforms, applesauce on bread and baggy sweatshirts and a dislike for all things FEET?

I have given my heart away a couple of times although I am not sure what each recipient got out of it nor what he retained once I was gone. The first time, I only offered a piece of it, keeping in mind that donating it all without the guarantee of receiving a heart in return would leave me lifeless. The second time, I gave a pretty good chunk, very quickly. I didn't end up lifeless, obviously, but I learned that donating your heart to another is a lot like losing weight. If you do it too fast, the consequences can be life-threatening, painful and difficult to sustain. You have to take your time. Go slowly. And maybe go through a battery of tests to make sure that you're compatible before you start the transplantation process.

The greatest six words that someone on the heart waiting list can hear is "we have a heart for you." I know it doesn't nearly compare but I am hoping that the next time I make my heart available, the recipient is just as excited.

STALKERblog

I realize AS I SING IT has had a lot of death on it lately and I hope to refocus and get some inspiration for a little HAPPY soon. In the meantime, check out my new blog STALKERblog. There's a link over there in the right-hand column.

Thanks for reading! I'll be back soon!

michele

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PHIL!

We are celebrating YOU on Sunday, Phil. With good friends, a few drinks and a Cards vs. Cubs ballgame... I'm pretty sure you would approve. We miss you & love you friend!