Christmas-2015

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Gwyneth Speaking To The Astronauts - 04/14/2010

Gwyneth(age 9)speaking to astronauts in space- April 14, 2010. (0:29-0:34)

http://static.wfmynews2.com/video-archive-player/?bctid=78093472001

Quotes from books I've read......

Help For The Haunted: A Novel, by John Searles
"As a mother, you think you know your child. You brought her into the world, after all. You changed her diapers and picked her up when she cried. You read her stories each night before bed and slipped coins under her pillow so she believed in the Tooth Fairy, But then, despite all that love and effort, years go by and one day she turns sullen. She keeps secrets. She doesn't want to be near you. You used to ask her what was wrong, but she always told me the same thing: I wouldn't understand."

Dear Daughter, by Elizabeth Little
"She was wearing an outfit so relentlessly hideous I refuse to describe it."
"(p.s., her lip liner was a blue- based red that was totally inappropriate for her skin tone)"

Downtown Owl, by Chuck Klosterman

Paragraph as narrated by 16 year old Mitch:

"Why do we get out of bed?" Mitch wondered. "Is there any feeling better than being in bed? What could possibly feel better than this? What is going to happen in the course of my day that will be an improvement over lying on something very soft, underneath something very warm, wearing only pajamas, doing absolutely nothing, all by myself?" Every day, Mitch awoke to this line of reasoning:Every day, the first move he made outside his sheets immediately destroyed the only flawless part of his existance.

#atonguewithbutsixwords - Tumblr

MY POSTS TO TWITTER ACCOUNT   @atonguewithbutsixwords       (@ATWBSW)

Born, career, family, die. Absurdly fallacious.

Hatred implies emotion. Apathy? Premeditatively abandoned.

Normal person? You've not yet met.

Christmastime? Gangplank To The Abyss Of Purgatory.

Blood disease? Gallbladder tumor? Dues paid!

"Colossal clusterfuck”, I say, every day.

Prompt: poem about learning to not seek validation from other people:
Me? Self love. Don't need yours.

Prompt: “..about high school and the deceptive nature that comes with making friends here?”
Over 40? BFFs from high-school? Loser.

Sudden silent rejection; arrogant cowardly loser.

Prompt: a poem about learning to not seek validation from others.
I did it myself. No problem.

 Prompt: “an emotionally violent relationship.”
He said please, I said no.

Prompt: “an emotionally violent relationship.”
Stop yelling until I’m done yelling.

Prompt: “you’ve gotta fuck up sometimes and experience life to really have anything of interest to say..”
Stay home if you’ve never left.

Prompt: “my passion and purpose, or potential lack thereof.”
I’m a loser, except for weight.

M












Prompt: “you’ve gotta fuck up sometimes and experience life to really have anything of interest to say..”

—	Stay home if you’ve never left

Prompt: “my passion and purpose, or potential lack thereof”

I’m a loser, except for weight

Always Relevant

A Life Lived

RENATA LEITE - OUR "ACADEMIC YEAR ABROAD (AYA)" EXCHANGE STUDENT

Here's our girl, Renata, from Brazil, who is arriving in mid January to attend high school in Greensboro for six months. We can't wait for her to arrive and become a part of our family!

January 18, 2015:

Update: Here she is! We are so happy to have her here. It's like it was totally meant to be. We love her already. And thank you, Gwyneth, for making this fabulous welcome poster!

February 10, 2015:

Update: Here are a couple of photos Renata and I picked out together to have made into canvas prints for hanging in our living room plus we ordered an extra copy of the two of us for her to take back home in June.

February 16, 2015:

                  Update: Renata's first sight of snow ever!

February 28, 2015: One of my favorite pictures so far. Brunch at Lucky 32 with Gwyneth. Katie, Lilly, Renata and me.

I know, right? If only......

Hey Bae

1

   

Bæ 

Bæ/bae is a Danish word for poop. 

Also used by people on the internet who think it means baby, sweetie etc.

I intend to use it in its proper vernacular: 

"Hey bea-head", or

"The bae has hit the fan"

Bon Mots

On Bullies:
Try not to judge. You never know what's going on in their home, do you?- it's likely they are being bullied as well. Reach out; be the bigger person.
Me

On Wanting Something:
If you don't ask, the answer is always "No."
Me

On Fun:
The moment in which we discover how to play is, with all due respect to every subsequent and more sophisticated joy, probably the best moment of any of our lives. Every new pleasure experienced for the first time and the sudden stirring of delight that follows is, in a sense, just an echo of this first happy cataclysm. And we are only barely there for it.
David Roth Vice Sports January 7, 2015

On Napping:
"How beautiful it is to do nothing and then rest afterwards."
Spanish Proverb

On Parenthood:
The amazing thing about becoming a parent is that you will never again be your own first priority.
Olivia Wilde

"There are moments when you feel like the most loving parent, and then in an instant you feel like your head is spinning in circles because you’re so upset over something so minor. Ahhh hormones.”

"People will tell you it’s hard, but you will have no concept of how hard it really is.”
Buzzfeed

The moment in which we discover how to play is, with all due respect to every subsequent and more sophisticated joy, probably the best moment of any of our lives. Every new pleasure experienced for the first time and the sudden stirring of delight that follows is, in a sense, just an echo of this first happy cataclysm. And we are only barely there for it.
David Roth vice sports January 7, 2015


boys don’t even try to stop being trash, like most dudes will go their whole lives never considering how terrible they are, much less how toxic they are to women

FATES AND FURIES
PAGE 244

Somehow, despite her politics and smarts, she had become a wife, and wives, as we all know, are invisible. The midnight elves of marriage. The house in the country, the apartment in the city, the taxes, the dog, all were her concern: he had no idea what she did with her time. It (would have been) was compounded with children;

LOST LAKE
PAGE 135

She understood that the hardest times in life to go through were when you were transitioning from one version of yourself to another.

First love doesn’t have to last to matter. —Eleanor and Park



"Mentally crafting incredibly angry speeches that i will never say to all the people I hate is my new favorite hobby"

Found this quote the day after the final day……. 10/28/15




“I was referring to menopause.” Snow’s mouth dropped open. “She has menopause?” “You didn’t notice?” Snow hesitated. “I know she’s been acting crazy lately. I never considered that.” “Few men do, believe me. But it’s different for everyone. Some women are hardly affected by it, and the duration is brief. For others it can be devastating. And then if you add to it the additional stress of her current situation, you can imagine…”
Punctured. Page 172


but on a serious note most people don’t have the same intentions for you as you do for them and you’ll break your head tryna figure out why you’re not good enough when really it’s them who don’t deserve you in their life.
Tumblr

If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.
Tumblr

Everything Is Awful and I’m Not Okay
Tumblr – 10/8/15

Relationships are an expensive and lonely way to watch someone slowly like you less and less.
Buzzfeed (I added the lonely)




L







“There have been times, lately,
when I dearly wished that I could
change the past. Well, I can’t,
but I can change the present,
so that when it becomes the past
it will turn out to be a past worth having.”
-Sir Terry Pratchett, I Shall Wear Midnight

 12/2/15 Tumbler








Taylor Swift-2015



instagram.com
The Negativity Cleanse
You are probably your harshest critic. And most times, the only thing holding you back from getting to where you want to be is yourself. Take some time to recognize all of your self-deprecating negative thoughts and write them down. Then come up with something positive that you can use to counteract each thought when you're struggling.







the shitty thing about depression/anxiety is the fact that you live with it so long and so much that you forget how insidious it actually is. When you can’t do something and you think it’s because you’re lazy and unmotivated and then you have an up day and you get so much stuff done and you don’t think about how it’s because you’re having an up day. That this is literally how people without mental illness function.
Tumbler

Say 'mom' one more time...

Kids can say "mom" eleven billion times in 30 minutes. Test it and get back to me.


Let's face it; parenting is a mind-bending, brain-melting and heart-thumping roller coaster ride on a full stomach. It is the greatest adventure and the toughest battle you will ever face.
YourTango




.

On Sleep:

theSkimm

On Drinking:

tumblr.com (?)

On Conversation:

"I have the deepest affection for intellectual conversations. The ability to just sit and talk. About love, about life, about anything, about everything. To sit under the moon with all the time in the world, the full-speed train that is our lives slowing to a crawl. Bound by no obligations, barred by no human limitations. To speak without regret or fear of consequence. To talk for hours and about what's really important in life."

@bxjvq thegoodquote (copied from Renata Leite's Instagram page)

Who Am I and Why Do You Care?

My name is Amy Clapp. I am a 52-year-old married mother of 3 children.

I am often teased by my friends and family that I “interview:” them by way of asking specific details about events in their day, life, etc.  I ask a lot of questions because I am genuinely curious about people’s lives.  I’ve not been accused of being nosy; I have a sincere interest and often comment in a positive way when someone confides in me.

With friends and family, I have a bit of a sarcastic wit and use that tact in a fun and/or constructive way.  I have a comfort level with people that allows me to feel like I can get to know them easily and let them know that I am authentic.

With regard to advice giving, I love to be witty and can come across as having a sharp, sarcastic sense of humor.  I have good insight as to when an issue is serious and I am able to respond accordingly.  I also recognize when a concern is ridiculous and can respond in a sarcastic and satirical way, without being hurtful.

I am very good at coming up with gentle ways to tell the truth without being hurtful or nasty.  I am often appreciated for this gift of counsel.

My life experience has been a journey and I come by my unique personality by way of experience, trial and error, and constant interest in and learning about people.  I have been exposed to a life that has been mine to learn from and I have gained appreciation for the things in life that changed who I am, and sent me in a different direction altogether. These paths lead to interesting places and everyone has a story to tell.

Gwyneth's 13th birthday. Who loves you baby?

Scrapbook Mom made for Gwyneth's 13th Birthday

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaaT1YEgdMc&index=3&list=FLfz6M1s4TO_FrHtMJ948bxw

Really Heath and Gwyneth? Nice, very pleasant and loving relationship

Heath and Gwyneth - their finest moment.
December 2012

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzQrN0MYkaU&list=FLfz6M1s4TO_FrHtMJ948bxw

Gwyneth imitating Will Ferrell in a scene from the film "Blades of Glory - January 2008

So much fun that I can still watch this video of Gwyneth imitating Will Ferrell in a scene from the film "Blades of Glory - January 2008. Gwyneth was 6 years old. Cracks me UP!


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YphMlmkGpqM

The Poster Child(ren) for Big Brothers/Big Sisters

Amy and Darlene

November 2014

The Big and Little Queens of Big Brother/Big Sisters-Greensboro, NC

Watch Our Standard Spiel on YouTube"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z93pF0zrwuo

Guide, Follow, Join

I believe that every child should have a mentor.   I believe this mentor should be someone chosen specially to be this child’s role model.  I believe that the minimum age for a child to receive a mentor is birth and I believe the maximum age a child should maintain a mentor is forever. I also believe that every person should have someone to mentor.  I believe that the privilege of mentoring another, whether young or old, male or female, gay or straight, wealthy or struggling, intelligent or mentally challenged, disabled or physically ordinary, of any race, religion, or no religion, American or non-American, is a privilege one should not deny if lucky enough to be asked.   I believe that lives will be enhanced for every person who mentors, is mentored, or is blessed enough to experience both.

The opportunity to be invited to mentor, to be given the chance to guide, to have the honor to inform and influence another is really a tribute to the vast trust one has in you; the trust to lead their child in directions they may never have occasion to walk towards otherwise.  This becomes your opening to share with this person in your care, all the support and guidance you were lucky enough to have with your mentor or, if you weren’t in that special club, then everything the two of you experience, marvel in and explore during your journey together will be the first time for each of you, which will be just as wonderful in its own right.

I did not have a mentor in my youth; although I’ve been fortunate to have many as an adult.  But by the time I was 28 years old, I’d had no encounter comparable to being introduced to an eight-year-old girl,  who lived in relative poverty, whose mother had died of AIDS, whose father was unknown, and who was being raised by a single guardian who was also attempting to raise a teenage girl who was already a statistic: a pregnant runaway who would go on to have three more children, and a three year old boy, who would never be lucky enough to have his own mentor or role model.

 The eight year old girl’s name is Darlene. It was February 14, 1990, Valentine’s Day, a day we acknowledge and celebrate every year. We were introduced by our coordinator through Big Brothers/Big Sisters, the route I took in becoming a mentor.  We sat down on Darlene’s bed that day and she produced the most amazing, delighted smile I’d ever envisioned, a smile so expressive that it was immediately stamped onto my heart as though it would remain there until my heart’s final beat.

Our initial affection for one another evolved over the years, over our predictable life changes as we aged and matured.  The affection turned to deep friendship, then to love as if to a beloved friend or family member, and during our years together, we experienced a genuine understanding of each other, a respect only gained by sharing part of life’s journey together, and a connectedness that held that first smile to my heart firmly in place to this day, twenty-one years later.

Who mentored who?  There is no right answer to that question.  As Darlene watched me get married; as I watched her become homecoming queen; as she watched my husband and me build our house; as I watched her graduate from college; as she watched me struggle to take night classes in college while working in the same job for 25 years; as I watched her get her master’s degree; as she watched me have my first, second and third baby, which really felt like my second, third and fourth, truth be told;  as I watched her live on her own in NYC, learning the hard way that life is hard; as she watched me learn the hard way that no one is indispensible in their career; and now, today, I watched her get her acceptance letter from UNC-G, where she will  begin classes towards earning a doctorate degree.  And she watches me continue with my undergraduate courses, because I won’t give up, and she watches me with wonderment raise three kids, and we look at each other, hug each other, take pride in each other and respect and honor each other’s lives just as we know that we feel the same about our own.

I believe that everyone should have a mentor.  I believe that everyone should be a mentor.  I believe everyone’s life can be filled with a joy only felt when giving and receiving the type of relationship that is built in this way.   I believe everyone deserves to have a story to share, and a chance to influence those who have yet to make their way towards this path.

How to Make a "Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake in Seven Days or Less

First of all, you must accept that this lovely three layer cake you are about to make will look only vaguely similar to the picture of the cake posted with the recipe. Once you accept that fact, you may actually enjoy preparing this ridiculously NOT "Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake. The good news, however, is that no matter how your cake turns out, it is likely to be quite tasty, albeit generally unpleasing to the naked eye.

You must begin by determining that you probably don't have all the bakeware needed for this task.  This would include a hand held electric mixer (if you already own one, it’s fairly certain you will not be able to locate the metal mixer doodads that are expected to be attached to said hand held mixer in order to use it properly, so you might just as well buy a new one); an array of measuring cups and spoons; three 8-inch round cake pans; a silicone cake-pop-maker thingy; an egg white separator; 3 wire racks; a cake platter; 8 identical small plastic bowls and spoons; 4 plastic spatulas; a large mixing bowl; and parchment paper. Once you've ordered all of these items online you are then ready to sit back, relax, and wait for your delivery of these products. This will generally take 3-4 business days, assuming any items, including the unknown and unfamiliar silicone cake-pop-maker thingy are not on back order.

Once you receive your baking products in the mail, you may begin the process of shopping for the necessary ingredients. Basically you need a four pack of food coloring, two boxes of white cake mix, eggs, vegetable oil, cooking oil spray, and four containers of white frosting.  You may choose to use two containers of white frosting and a large container of whipped topping, such as Cool Whip. This little tip provides a tasty little extra surprise for your “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake.

So you assemble all of your bakeware and ingredients on your kitchen counter, no doubt spread all around your kitchen, as this is an astonishing number of necessary materials and most average kitchens do not provide such counter space as is needed for your cake. Nonetheless, I recommend that you do indeed have everything you need available, as you will soon be doing 80 things at once and need to have the easiest access to your cake making items. 

You now begin the actual act of making the “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake! The first thing you do is look at the silicone cake-pop-maker thingy and wonder what in the world its purpose is, how in the heck to use it, why did it come with two pieces and question if it will possibly melt when placed in the oven.  This process takes about an hour. There is much discussion if there is more than one person in the kitchen. Once you’ve determined that the smoke alarm in your home is indeed working, you turn on your oven. If you’re unsure how to do this, here are my instructions. Please place close attention here: There should be a dial on the top of the stove that has numbers on it ranging from roughly 200 to 500. You will want to set this dial to 350. Now go ahead and line up the 3 round cake pans and both parts of the silicone cake-pop-maker thingy and grease up everything with your cooking spray. Spray at random until you are satisfied that all of your cookware is sufficiently dripping with oil so that your cake will hopefully come out of said cookware in its proper form.

Now you must prepare your cake batter. Open both boxes of the white cake mix. Please verify that you did not accidentally purchase Angel Food white cake mix as this will not work at all and further delay your preparation of your “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake. Following the instructions on the back of the cake box, please now begin the process of generating the cake batter. At this point, you will need to do two very important things: figure out how to use the egg white separator, and insert the metal stick doodads into the proper holes provided on the nether regions of your mixer. You will not accomplish this on the first or 25^th try. One stick doodad will invariably stick out while the other will go in properly. Unfortunately, at this point, I cannot advise you any further on how to use these two products because I frankly don’t know how. But somehow, eventually, after several hours or maybe even a day, I achieved the tasks of separating the egg whites and inserting the metal stick mixey accouterments into the handheld mixer. I simply am unable to explain in these instructions how it happened, but it just did.

OKAY! Now you may combine the ingredients needed to make the cake batter in the large mixing bowl. This is getting very exciting, no? When you are ready to use your hand held mixer to mish-mash the ingredients you put in the mixing bowl per the cake box instructions, you simply stick the metal sticks in the bowl and turn on your mixer. At this point, it is quite likely that nothing will happen. This is because you need to plug in your mixer! No available plugs in your kitchen you say? Well find one somewhere – surely you can locate a spare plug in your home – your bedroom perhaps? Or more likely the bathroom since you use a number of electronic products to style your hair each day? So take your mixing bowl full of unmixed ingredients and your mixer to wherever you’ve finally located an available plug, and begin the mixing process. Your metal mixey stick thingys begin to spin, and the ingredients in the bowl begin to resemble a soupy, unappetizing pale liquid. Once you have completed the mixing process per the number of minutes recommended on your cake mix box, you may remove the hand held mixer with the metal mixey thingy doodad sticks from the soupy substance. A helpful tip at this point: turn off the mixer before you remove it from the mixing bowl. If you fail to do this, your mixey sticks will spatter the soupy substance all over your bathroom or bedroom or den or wherever you are trying to pull off this particular task of making your, let’s say it together now: “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake!

Alright. Now you must put the mixing bowl of soupy pale muck in the refrigerator. (If you don’t know what this domestic device is, look it up; I can’t hold your hand through every single detail).  Please retire to your bedroom and take a much deserved nap. Or just go to bed for the night. You’ve done enough for one day.

The next step in making your “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake is to separate the cake batter muck. Pour some of it in a measuring cup until you’ve reached the big number 2 on or close to the top of the cup. Your goal here is to split up your cake mix soupy stuff so that you may use various portions of it in different ways. Once you’ve acquired your separate two cups of batter, you then separate the two cups of your batter evenly into four bowls! This is getting fun and very interesting! My recommendation is that you pour approximately ½ cup batter into each bowl. This should be about right, give or take a spoonful or three. Yay! You now have four bowls of ashen pasty batter, PLUS the leftover batter that you’ve now returned to the refrigerator. (Again, look it up if you need to). This is indeed “Surprisingly Easy”! Now, drop at least half, but no more than half, of the liquid in your tiny food coloring bottles into the 4 bowls of the 1/4^th of the two cups of the two boxes of soupy stuff that came from the mish-mashing task of yesteryear, when you did the metal mixey sticks thing. Your result should be four bowls of different colored muck-stew. This is assuming that you didn’t duplicate one of your colors, thus leaving one color out. If you did make such an error, just stop what you’re doing right now and walk away. Just simply walk away. Hire a HazMat cleaning crew to remove all signs of this botched attempt at making the “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake and forget it ever happened.

Ok moving on then! On to step 25!  Use a spoon to drop 1/3 of each of the 4 bowls of the ½ cup of the two cups of the two boxes of soupy stuff into the silicone cake-pop-maker thingy that you previously, who knows how many hours or days ago, sprayed with cooking spray. Your result at this point should be a silicone cake-pop-maker thingy filled with twelve filled pop cups of 3 each of the 1/3 of each of the 4 bowls of the ½ cup of the two cups of the two boxes of soupy stuff, hopefully in four different colors. Oh please let this be so. If not, again, I must insist you stop what you’re doing and walk away. Just walk away.  I humbly apologize for failing you in your desire to achieve an undertaking of this magnitude. If, however, you feel you are ready to move on, please put the top part of the two part silicone cake-pop-maker thingy thing on top of the bottom part of the two part silicone cake-pop-maker thingy, covering up your lovely array of twelve colorful balls of batter. You may now insert this fine creation into your oven, which is presumably still set at 350 since I never told you to turn it off. After about 7-9 minutes, turn right around and take the silicone cake-pop-maker thingy out of the oven and take a moment to marvel at the fact that this piece of plastic didn’t melt! Ok, now you must take the top part off, reach out for your wire rack that hopefully is still available somewhere in your kitchen and turn the bottom part upside down on top of the rack, and if there is a Dessert God in Heaven, your 12 lovely little colorful pop balls should pop right out! Hence the name silicone cake-pop-maker.

Oh my gosh, I must now reluctantly inform you that you must repeat this POP task two more times! But first you must wash the silicone cake-pop-maker thingy, spray it with cooking spray again, and do the same thing all over again with the remaining delightfully colorful bowls of cake muck, and your goal here is to use up all the muck in each bowl and end up with…. now stay with me here…. 9 pop cake balls of each color, for a total of 36 pop cake balls! Allow the pop cake balls to completely cool. Go have a glass of wine or take a nap or both; I don’t really care what you do at this point.  Amazingly simple isn’t it? And we’re just now getting started!

Next, line your three 8 inch cake pans with parchment paper. Then place 3 of each colored cake pop balls into one of the three cake pans. Your result should be twelve cake pop balls, in four different colors, in each of the three round cake pans.  If this is not the case, I must recommend to you again, just stop what you’re doing and walk away. Just walk away. Again, just call the HazMat cleaning crew to remove all signs of this botched attempt at making this “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake.

If, however, you are still with me, let’s move along! Remove the remaining cake batter soupy pasty pallid muck from the refrigerator. Spread the batter evenly over the 12 cake balls in the three cake pans. Try very hard to put the same amount of pasty cake batter muck in each cake pan because if you don’t, your 3-layer “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake will just look foolish and you will come off as completely harebrained in thinking you could make this damn cake.

Insert the three cake pans into the oven, which is still set at 350, I presume, as I have not yet permitted you to turn it off. Cook the cakes for 23-25 minutes. Remove the now cooked 3 cakes from the oven and set each one on a wire rack somewhere in your kitchen to cool for at least one hour. By the way, you may now turn off your oven. Now you may think you have some free time here! Oh contraire, you do not! No nap for you!  Now you must prepare your frosting for this lovely “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake. Use your four remaining small plastic bowls and divide your white frosting (and whipped topping if desired) into four even portions. Once again, drip your four different food coloring containers into each bowl, thus creating four different colors of frosting, much like you did a few days ago when you made your four bowls of colored cake batter to use in the ever famous, now understood, two part silicone cake-pop-maker thingy. Turn to your cooled cakes and place one completely cooled round cake layer onto your cake platter. Now here is where you may stray from the norm and use your own artistic imagination. Using one each of your four different spatulas for each bowl of colored frosting, begin frosting the first layer of cake with one of the colors. Eventually, use all four colors on this layer, both on top and the sides of the cake, and be as creative as you’d like to fashion a lovely and lusciously tempting, tasty-looking layer of cake. Next, put the second cake layer on top of the first cake layer, being careful not to allow it to slide off and go askew, and repeat the frosting process.  Perhaps you might try a different approach or design. The cake is your palette! (No pun intended). Finally, do the same with the third layer of cake. And Viola! If all has gone according to plan and proper paying attention to the detailed instructions herewith set forth, your finished cake should look like this:

Unfortunately, your “Surprisingly Easy" Cute Polka Dot Cake will actually look more like this (if you’re lucky): But trust me, it is mighty tasty and, in my humble opinion, worth every hour of every day it took to prepare it.

Short Story - 2009

Painkiller

The pain was palpable.  It was as if it was a tangible thing; she felt enveloped by a dense aura of impenetrable space.  Escaping the agony seems impossible.  She cannot believe this has happened.  Stupid! Stupid!  She has known that this was always possible, perhaps even inevitable.  It’s not like it’s never happened to anyone else, but when it happens to you, it just seems so unfair and ridiculous.  When the agony is this bad, you just know that no one else has ever had this kind of pain.  She wonders why that is.  Is she more sensitive to this type of tragedy?  Since she’s avoided such a disaster thus far, should she be uniquely punished?  It feels like an exceptional type of torture, one of those prolonged events that is indescribable until you actually experience it yourself, like a vicious migraine, childbirth, or passing a kidney stone.  In fact, she had actually heard various descriptions of this sort of suffering but those people were clearly not experiencing the true nature of this type of wound as she was right now.

Incredibly, she has a semblance of coherency, in spite of the pain; her wits are somewhat about her to the point that she knows she has to do something, she has to make some decisions about how best to address this situation.  Does she call her doctor?  Is he even available on a Sunday morning?  Should she call an ambulance?  Can she drive herself to the emergency room?  Can anything even be done about this?  She’s heard that this type of pain is treatable; she really doesn’t have to suffer indefinitely, although at this point the idea of being pain free seems absurd.  There certainly is no way anyone or anything can alleviate this level of agony.  Nonetheless, if left untreated this condition can absolutely be fatal, and often is.

She continues to lie prostrate, not sure if she can even move, let alone behave proactively.  The cell phone is in reach, however; she can see it, but what to do?  Who to call?  The pain does not subside and the tears become uncontrollable.  She begins to grasp the ramifications of getting into this situation.  It wasn’t an accident, really, but neither was it her fault exactly.  If she goes to the emergency room – God, could they possibly stop the pain? – she realizes that this will create all manner of drama, potential awkwardness and most definitely embarrassment.  She can probably handle her husband knowing, but the kids?  Would they ever forget their Mother had no more sense than to fall prey to this pitiable situation that is incomprehensible to them?  They would be so humiliated if their friends and friends’ parents found out.  And would the kids worry that someday, they too will be a victim of such a situation as this?  Something that creates agony unlike anything previously experienced during their innocent lives?  For God’s sake, if she goes to the hospital, the treating doctor, or even her own doctor, might determine that her condition is even worse than anyone thought, although she cannot even imagine anything worse than this, truly.  And what if the treatment is complex and lengthy?  Who in the world has time for that kind of nonsense?  She has work to do, meetings to attend, a family to manage, untold errands every day.  So many people depend on her; she can’t simply be out of commission, unavailable.  This is a nightmare on so many levels, and Oh My God, the pain!  It’s just unbearable.  How could she have let this happen?  She blames herself which of course just adds another level of pain.

She tries to clear her mind of the agony, the drama, the worrying.  She tries to figure out, if this gets fixed, and she has any chance of full recovery, how she can be sure that it won’t happen again?  She’s known all kinds of aches and pain before, but nothing like this.  No suffering such as this has ever reached her.  She’s given birth to three children and that was a cake walk compared to this.  She almost chuckles to herself, thinking about how scared she was, knowing her low threshold for pain she had each time she was in the delivery room.  It’s laughable now, really.  In how many ways can pain be described?  Is there a level for which a word has not yet been invented?  This is how she feels right now.  It is unimaginable. 

The thought of explaining her predicament is so humiliating; she wonders if she will be believable?  Do healthcare professionals see this kind of thing often?  Will they mock her?  As bad as the pain is, the shame and embarrassment find a place in her mind to add additional torture.  However, it becomes obvious that if she doesn’t do something soon, she might just die right here as a result of this horrible situation

After a seemingly endless period of attempting to block everything out of her mind or just give in to the raw suffering, she begins to take stock of things and is trying to decide if maybe the pain is subsiding.  Would this mean she is going numb?  How does that work exactly?  If the pain begins to abate, if it actually starts to fade, does that mean the wound is healing itself?  Would it be possible that she could walk away from this whole nightmare unscathed?  And no one need ever know about any of this?

Incalculable time goes by as she lies motionless, but for a slight rocking, and it is blissfully quiet and still.  No kids, no TV, no phone, just the pain, which undulates upon her in waves, teasing her at times into thinking it was decreasing only to attack her with fresh hell unannounced.  God damn this pain!  Damn the stupidity, the ignorance, the blithe attitude that these things don’t happen to people like her.  Clearly, she is getting just what she deserves.  She thought she was immune to this kind of anguish, even though, as she considered earlier, not only do these things happen to people all the time but there was always a chance it could happen to her.  She thinks again of the implications: the embarrassment to her family and herself, to be labeled one of “those” people, to live with the fear of a repeat occurrence, a fear that would be paralyzing now that she has suffered through this experience and realizes how hideous it can be.  Finding herself in this place again would be unacceptable and she knows that she would never be able to allow it happen, even as she reminds herself that it very well could happen again.

Enough time has passed and she now knows that she must do something, take a step to somehow escape the torture.  She just cannot take the agony another single minute; it’s just all too much suddenly, and she reaches for the small black cell phone; she’s going to take action, finally.  But it’s not a cell phone after all; deep down she knew that all along.  But by God she was going to stop this pain.

She pulls the trigger.

The misery is over.

The pain of depression is a killer.

The End

Amy Clapp

2009