Just to let you know, I'm alive. Heading out on the road soon I hope. The monthy rent is up, incredibly I've been here two whole months. I need to exercise the engine, might as well change out the front yard while I am at it.
I survived the food poisioning, but my leg didn't. It still hurts like I broke it. Heven forbid.
Thinking back really hard, (not an easy thing for me to do) I recall doing something stupid that might have injured the leg.
I still feel super weak from the food poisionig. I laid down in my bunk for a brief rest in the middle of the day. I have a drawer next to my bed, under the half-closet. I often pull the drawer out, then set a wooden board on it. This creates a temporary bed table. I can then set my water, kleenex, eyeglasses, telephone, puppy toys, and dog brush on this temporary table. When I get up in the morning, I put away the junk, including the wooden board, then close the drawer.
Talk about finding creative ways to live in a very small space...
Because my closet sticks out next to the bed where I lay my head, then the drawer is under the half closet sticking out, if I get up in a hurry, I have to slither down to the lower half of the bed, to get out.
I curled up in the far corner, then I heard my phone ring, which I had failed to put on the makeshift table. Being that I have applied for numerous workcamping positions from Florida to Maine, I do not want to miss a single phone call.
In my enthusiasm to fly out of the bed from the corner I was curled up in, to the other corner that gives me access out of the bed, well maybe I did something weird to my leg, in my flailing around to find the phone before it went to voice mail. Maybe that did something to the aching sore leg.
I've had serious injuries to both legs in the past, but after tons of physical therapy, I learned to walk without canes and without a limp. I have a cane traveling with me for good luck, in hopes I never ever need it again.
All I can say is, getting older is not for sissies!
Mermaids grow legs on land and tails at the sea, maybe I just need to get back to the sea and lose these legs in favor of a mermaid tail.
That reminds me, my brithday is coming up soon! Yippee! I'll be older!
Will the wisdom come with the new age? When exactly dos that wisdom kick in?
As I look back on my past, I realize I've had an absolute blast. My life has been full of excitement, travel, hard work and incredible wonder. It's only the past year or so, since getting out of the hospital and saying final goodbyes to the ICU ward, I've been on the strangest odyssey. From being sound and secure, to suddenly succumbing to near poverty. Medical bills piled up everywhere and I intend to pay back every single penny.
Losing nearly everything including coming so close to losing my life, has been very humbling.
Snatching up this old used motorhome was a smart decision during difficult times. Angels guided me to a wonderful deal, that I'm not likely to ever see repeated.
Moving from one country to the next was a crazy decision I made while at one of my weakest moments. I had spent the last 22 years living and working in the Caribbean. I came out of the hospital in a total fog, with a mega mess on my hands.
Coming back to America, was akin to moving to Mars. I've floundered around, trying to get a grip.
Now I struggle to stay alive, make huge payments on the old medical bills and forge a new life in a new country on a teeny tiny shoestring budget with erratic income from writing and odd jobs. I still find myself volunteering a lot. I have so much to do, but giving back is important too.
I remind myself to be grateful. Be ever so grateful and thankful each and every day. Rejoice in what I have, not what I don't have. I'm just ever so glad every morning when I wake up alive. YIPPEE!
When I left the hospital, I was the 3rd longest patient there. So I left two others behind, one that didn't make it and the other, is incredibly still living there, but not in the ICU anymore.
Since then, sad to say, three of my friends entered that exact same hospital, through the emergency room and two did not come out alive. It weighs heavily on me. How was I spared and the others were not? My heart has a huge hole, grieving over my lost friends.
Sometimes I think my spirit is just super tough, refusing to give up this body in spite of the body putting up mighty protests.
Through the power of the internet, I've managed to do literally tons of research that would have otherwise requried me to visit thousands of libraries, digging deeply for alternative treatments. I think I'm on the right path, I'm alive and kicking, even if I am limping around the past few days. I am NOT on all those dangerous drugs, the doctors insisted I would need, the rest of my short life. I've chosen a different path and I'm beating the odds.
The painful leg, is a minor inconvenience, for the sheer joy of waking up alive. The angels must expect something awesome out of me, to keep sparing me time and time again.
I wake up each morning, with enthusiasm, that another day has dawned, and I've arrived with it!
I push myself to do a thousand things. I am never bored. I have way too much to do, some of it I surely don't want to do at all, but somehow I make myself suffer through those things that must be done, in spite of the spirit unwilling at times.
Isn't procrastination so much easier?
Part of my alternative therapy was to get a pet again. A pet can do absolute miracles with your health. I could expound for pages on the health benefits of having a pet.
Losing my cat while moving from the Caribbean to America, really broke my heart and spirit. I grieved for months, and still wonder what happened to my beloved cat.
He escaped through my own stupidity, on the way home from the airport, to be never found again, depsite the effort of money, months, and miles I put into finding my little buddy. He had been my treasured pet for over 9 years. I had tearfully left his brother and another cat behind in the Caribbean in new homes. I cried myself to sleep many tortured nights. It was already ripping my heart apart, to see my family torn asunder, then when the chosen one vanished, that fateful night, I was plunged into grief, depression and loneliness on top of the sheer stress of moving so far, to a strange new world while battling to stay alive.
I haven't been able to adpot another cat since. The grief is still too great. Sadly, I learned that his brother, who was left behind, in a loving foster home, recently died. The other went to a forever home and is reported to be doing well. Many months later, I ended up with this ridiculous puppy, who has put love, joy and exercise, back into my life.
Angels watching over me again.
How can one person be so blessed? Today I feel like the luckiest person alive.
My future is up in the air. I know whatever happens next, is bound to be a challenging adventure that I intend to enjoy, as much as possible.
Life is good. Living is great. Waking up alive is just positively awesome.
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