Friday, June 17, 2011


Hartwell Lake
Georgia and South Carolina

Don't worry if there is an interruption here. I haven't been feeling so well lately and everything is not getting done every day. But I try!    

I keep pretending that everything is WONDERFUL!   I keep SMILING, cause smiling to yourself, makes you feel better. 

Try smiling. Now hold that smile as long as you can!


Doesn't that feel better already?

For financial reasons I've been avoiding doctors and drugs, but I may be forced into rethinking this idea, but I hope not. I'd rather get well naturally.  I still have huge medical bills I am paying on each month to the bank.  The bank complains bitterly, through numerous phone calls,  that my monthly payments are not enough lately (they keep raising them). Matter of fact they've raised them so high, exponentially, that the payments are more than 12 times what they used to be. Yes, 12 times!  Talk about punishing the customer... 

So hey, can I just call up Amazon and tell them I am raising my book price times 12 because that is how the bank does it?  They want 12 times the normal payment now. Insane. It makes no sense to me. 

Huh?  I didn't know a bank could do that. A lot has changed with the way Americans do business since I lived in America last.  I left in 1987 when answering machines were still newfangled. No one had a computer at home, unless they were forced to do work at home (and we felt sorry for them!). Many people didn't use computers at all in their work. People still had real offices, secretaries and assistants. 

Customer service was a joy, people took care of their customers, apologized sincerely, when mistakes were made, even going out of their way to make it somewhat right again. 

The bank calls for the 7th time today. I tell them, I am doing the best I can here. If they would revert the payments back to normal, I could scrape by. The LAST thing I want to do is run up more medical bills.  Frankly, the fact that the bank has called me 43 times this week does seem a bit excessive, and I have told them so. Each person I talk to, claims the last person didn't put any notes on my file. The person on the phone claims they have not read my letters nor emails. 

Well, what do they do with  my letters to the bank?  Make paper airplanes out of them?

Don't they hire people that can read, write and put notes on my account when they talk to me 43 times in one week?

Jeez, why don't they hire me?  I can read, write and listen.  :)

That is the other annoying thing. The person on the phone from the bank,  keeps interrupting me. How are they going to put notes on my account, if they won't let me get a word in edgewise?

Is the bank going to repossess me?  Will I be put up for auction?  

This Saturday, Live Auction: One Used Mermaid (Proceeds to settle bank debt for medical bills).

What if nobody wants to buy me but they want my parts? Say, somebody just wants my kidney but not the rest of me.  Will the bank auction off my kidney?  

Will they rip out body parts and sell them peicemeal to the highest bidder? 

This could get real ugly.  And very messy.  

Who will take care of my little dog? That worries me more than the thought of having my body parts ripped out. He's  good little doggy who has brought me improved health and lots of  love. 

He has a favorite little blanket, besides mine. His blankie. Actually it's a super soft fleece hand towel that was being sold in the auto parts department for $1.  I touched it and WOW was it ever soft. So I bought it for the dog. I put it on the back of the dining booth seat, that is adjacent to the drivers seat in the motorhome. It's his favorite perch when we are camping, so he can see out the windows. He often comments on what's happening out there too. 

Today I threw his blankie in the washer. He looked crestfallen!  Later when it had dried and I brought it back inside, he was all tail wagging. I laid it down for a moment, to put the wash cloths away. When I came back, he was rubbing his face all over his blankie, then he laid down on it with a satisfied sigh. 

It's getting to where I almost dread when the phone rings now. But I answer, I explain everything all over again, I ask them to put notes on my file. I send them letters and email. Matter of fact, between the chronic phone calls, my letter writing and emailing, the bank is consuming way too much of my time.  It's becoming a whole new career, just explaining over and over the same thing to different people who only have one first name and no last name, but claim to work for the bank. 

Well, I am trying to get all better, and make everybody happy, including me and the bank. 

It might be a coincidence about that air-freshener on the repaired air-conditioner, but I just keep getting sicker and sicker since they did that as part of the repair. Which the roof was painted  too the week before in an emergency repair. Toxic paint?  It is rubber paint...  

Did the painter at the RV shop zap my A/C so I would be back for more repairs?  I certainly hope not and that it was a bizarre coincidence. They did tell me my A/C was old and I should buy a new one, but I said "Why?  The one I have works fine!"  Then the next day, well it didn't work fine. 

Very strange. Makes you wonder. 

Today it's hot, but I have all the windows open.  I feel much better when the A/C is off, even if it is super hot. What's a little sweating?  I can sweat and drink loads of water. Since the roof leak was brief and the repair almost immediate, I don't think much mold could have grown. I sure don't see any.  

Come to think of it, they put in a used fan in my air conditioner repair. Could it have had some weird mold on it? 

Well, I just read all about mold.  That will cure insomnia!  (The reading, not the mold!)

It can affect someone who is weak, so maybe that's it. I'm just not strong enough yet to tolerate weird mold. I sure can't see any obvious mold problems, but I am going to work up the energy to clean, clean, clean everything everywhere. Have vinegar and soap, will clean, clean, clean!  Vinegar does a superior job over bleach when it comes to mold. I also bought a $2 vacuum cleaner at a nearly new shop. Amazing bargain. It small but powerful. I shall super suck the dirt out of my life. 

My little motorhome looks pretty clean now, but then again, let me do my best to do a big spring cleaning. What fun!  :(

Maybe I will try to take the A/C apart and clean the filter again. I just cleaned them (2 filters)  last week. But they look dirty again, to me. I've tried running the fan only (with no A/C)  to try to "air-out" that annoying air freshener the repairman coated the A/C with.  I guess he thought he was being helpful, but it's adversely affecting me, I do believe. 

If anyone has any ideas or encountered this before, let me know!

I have numerous ANGELS to thank who have helped me out in a multitude of ways.  I've discovered the world has lots of Good Samaritans.   I am super uber lucky to have met so many.  

Less than 2 years ago, my whole life went upside down. From a month in the hospital to a brutal assault. But here I am ALIVE, almost well and jumping around doing things every day. 

Well not jumping, but hey, I can leap to conclusions can't I?

I just can't seem to do enough every day. But at least I wake up with enthusiasm.  I start off with a roar and a bang! Plus I smile and walk. That does a lot for the old brain. 

TODAY could be the day, that miracle happens.  I want to be awake, ready and smiling!  

My book could be discovered, maybe Oprah will read it, maybe the NY Times will feature it,   and suddenly a zillion copies sell, then I pay off that bank and medical mess, so they quit pestering me.  I could enjoy a phone again, not dread it every time I say hello someone from the bank is mispronouncing my name again, making unruly demands of me. I'm making monthly payments, the old ones, not the news ones that are sky high. Punitive way to do business.  Awful way to treat customers. 

It seems to be the way to do things now. One month I transferred a payment to the bank on my account. There was a hiccup.  The payment didn't make it. It got lost in cyber world. I did not know this. Then I got a phone call from a bank employee who only has one name. The norm now. People don't have last names at the bank. 15,000 people work for this bank and they go by first names only. Is it just me or does that sound odd to you?  

The really annoying thing is today, three different people from the bank kept calling me "sir".  That was exasperating. Maybe since I've been sick my voice dropped an octave?  I sure don't think so, but it's hard to hear yourself talk. I have a feminine name and surely it's somewhere on their records that I am female. 

In the interim, I want to get another book out.  Doesn't that sound so easy?  Well, I keep plugging away, it will happen. The cookbook was published (limited edition, out of print now) then the book of short stories published (Hurricanes and Hangovers) and by golly, I will get the 3rd book out. 

Maybe the third book will be the miracle. Or the fourth or fifth...

As in the islands we would said "Soon come, mon, soon come!"

Keep on smiling!  

It sure does feel good when I smile amidst adversity!  

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  1. It certainly seems to me that there must be legal limits to what odors and textures of crap a bank can hand you without gloves. And, I guarantee you they'll throw it any time they think they can, for instance, when a person has been very ill and may not have the energy to exercise her rights, or to find out what they are.

    Were your medical expenses incurred in US territory?

  2. In case this could be useful: Free clinics in SC.
    One in Anderson. I don't know the requirements for care.


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