This weekend, beyond Linda’s birthday trip, was almost uneventful. Well, except for keeping to the PLAN. Oddly, with the trailers of the film The Dark Knight everywhere, that just makes me sound like The Joker. No, this is the POSTCARD plan, not the “kill Batman and rob Gotham Plan”, I think that one I am doing in August?
We took it deliberately easy, watched some British crime series instead of badminton and so I only had a very small TIA on Saturday night, which affected my left eye, mostly to the point of my not being able to raise the eyelid.
No one is sorrier than I, but this for ME is sound of my summer; the hissing of the air converter, Linda going, “Next time I come through I want to see more Gatorade gone.” It seems I am going to take care of myself whether I want to or not. Limit the damage so I have some brain and body left to go adventuring in the fall.
Today Linda and Cheryl did the “little job” of moving the life-line phone to the study where I spend most of my time. The phone is good, as it even says aloud what button you are pushing, that is good when you can’t see that well (neuro conditions). Also I have a few buttons for numbers on speed dial including my GP. There is a little wrist band that I have to wear all the time so I push it if my blood pressure or oxygen gets to low for me to move.
However like all “little jobs” it seemed to take two of them about two hours and a trip to the store to get a missing part. But now the phone is placed where I can answer it and they (life-line) can hear me if I have a seizure or fall to the floor. I am not sure what use “UUUUUUHHHHHHHHHAAAGGGGGGG!” will be to life-line when they call here, but at least they will be able to hear it. That noise is what happens when I have a seizure called “the loud one”, the other kind, “the silent ones” are where I just slump over. Then they have a LIST of people to call like Linda, Vincent Price (oh wait, is he dead?), and The archbishop of Canterbury (hey, they asked for people to call, I sort of ran out of family at Linda so got the joy of putting down who I wanted, I think my final contact number is either Madonna or Elton John).
The BAD news for this weekend is Linda telling me I CANNOT run for Mayor of Victoria. Apparently there is only one person who has put their name forward. Her major complaint is that the campaign for mayor costs an average of $9,000-$12,000. I told her I wasn’t planning on advertising, just knowing when people saw my name, much like in Lovecraft stories, by the Geas placed upon them they will be compelled to vote for me. True, I have a tentacled Ancient One for my campaign manager but what is the point of all those Grimoires I own if not to win elections? And this way I can do it on the cheap. And as part of my educational process of what having a disability is like in Victoria, all incoming calls regarding my campaign will go always to voice mail. Those requesting interviews will be called back at random times, barked a place, a date and time and then hung up on, just like how I find out about what tests I am getting and when. Linda still is not UP for the plan: I told her I cut costs dramatically but she said that having a tentacled being of pure evil leaving slime about the place just wasn’t worth it. (I think I am slowly winning her over - maybe if I use an Ancient Evil One AND Hello Kitty?)
I actually spent much of today thinking about YOU, or the people to whom I am sending postcards. See, I have a list of people getting postcards from me, which is everyone who was on the Japan list (regardless of continent) and ANYONE else who sends me an email with the title line “Postcard” and their address in it. PLEASE, if you lurk, or get this by email, think about sending me that email and address, PLEASE let me do this. After I tell you about my day, I will explain why sending postcards is so importnat. But first off, I am NOT just sending Anime postcards, which I am, but also Art postcards, as well as Classic Ship postcards, black and white postcards, and the few really beautiful postcards left over from Japan (including the cards made from Cherry/Cedar, which are real wood with wood block imprints on them – yup, sending them out too!). I am, actually sending out COLLECTABLES, as I found out when I tried to buy more (I have secured enough which should arrive soon to last another week or two of THE PLAN). For example, I have a load of old P&O and White Star and other Ocean Cruise Line Postcards from Posters which I bought for my Grandfather. He loved Cruise Ships and even when he couldn’t read anymore, he liked looking at the Classic poster postcards. Well, my Grandfather is gone now and he went as well as anyone could, knowing he was loved. I am ready to find these and other postcards I have collected from the Museums and cities of the world over my life a good home (This is how I honor the love I felt for him, if you don't want one of the ship ones just say - and you can have a Yaoi boy/boy love one instead - no seriously, I send what I think the person will enjoy the most).And so, when I say, I want my treasures to end up "in a good home", that means YOU. And then, beyond my message I usually load up a few stickers on the postcard so you can get the FULL experience. From gold Japanese Fans to Hello Kitty, there is everything on these cards, because I want you to be happy, if even only for a minute or two.
Now today, after creating my own work station, I went at it, and with help from Cheryl with the stickers, I did 18 postcards, and by the time you read this, they are all already sent. By number 18, even with breaks, my writing was not so good, so I needed a LONG break (in bed with oxygen - isn't that funny, exhausted to bed by POSTCARDS?).
And tomorrow and the next day and every day I will do a couple postcards each day, squeezed in between my assisted shower, and whatever appointments have been made for me, or whatever windmills there are to fight. For me, with the heat outside, I MUST stay indoors. Even today, in the 'wrong' (too warm) room, my arms turned green and the little veins started bleeding in my right arm as all the veins rose to the top and then bruises formed. So I cannot wheel around, I need to be indoors. But I have a need, a compulsion to have some sort of task, however small (though two to three postcards can take me over an hour), to bring a meaning BEYOND myself. So, if you are at home, if you are fatigued, if you are a caregiver, if you are sick, if you are well, if you are bored or if you want to receive personalized and caring post, then SEND ME AN EMAIL. I am determined to send postcards to 90 people, and I am about 20 people short right now. See, I am a writer, and even if it is only 10 lines, I want to keep writing.
The “voices” have been hassling me, you know the ones who come at the end of the day and talk endlessly about work or whatever it is that keep you awake (or how you could have studied more; or the perfect put down that you DIDN'T say - the 'voices'). And these days my voices keep asking questions I don’t know the answer to like: “Why do you stay in the medical system?”, or “Why does your spine hurt so bad, even with your new 3 times as powerful painkillers?” and of course the, “So you know your life is coming to an end, did you live it the way you intended?”
I mean, who really lives their life they way they intended? Sure, I have wishes that things were a little different. If I have a regret it is that I still seem too focused too much on myself; fighting battles on disability not on principle (well on that too) but because of how they treat ME. I am no saint, I leave that to Linda, but I do know the importance of being there for people, for caring, for sending the tangible evidence that you are NOT ALONE. So know that "out here" in computer land, some wacked out woman who keeps referring to herself in the third person with a middle name of “Fucking” (not the best advertisement for mental stability), is thinking about you, cares about whether you laugh when you get a card, whether you are comforted. Cares.
Allow me the favor of being part of your life, for a few minutes, of letting me in just a little, enough to send a card to you. Allow me to have SOME part of my day when I don’t have to worry about my life, and I have the luxury of caring and yes, sometimes worrying about yours. So send the email, and get the post card. Throw it away if you change your mind when it comes, but know that like pain relief, you gave me a chance to reach out, you took a little risk on me, and I appreciate it.
OR…..with 18 in the post already, realize the PLAN is going ahead with or without you, so jump on board! To refer to P.E./Gym, I choose YOU for my team. (At this point people usually said, “Oh no, why do I HAVE to be on the LOSER team!” Oh those fond P.E. memories!)
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