Losing Trust

For many years I fought a personal war in my own home, success came in the form of laughing children, prancing dogs and the absence of FEAR. Domestic violence is difficult, not only to live in but also to escape. Sufficient pressure built over time, I stood up, said "No More" and continued to stand tall. For the first time in my life, I made my own decision, hat tip to Ole Blue Eyes (blowing kisses) "I DID IT MY WAY".


Beyond the tears and legal battles, 2 other lives stood behind me shielded from the despicable arrows. Little was known of the emotional turmoil they have endured having witnessed the outrage in their own home.

Almost 2 years later, their battle scars emerge. Slowly, these little voices speak about their fears then, and the lingering fears now. Apprehension that they may be next to get thrown around. Then they approached the one person they could trust, as least they thought. Only to be betrayed, so disappointed by this loss of trust, a child begins to turn inward, fortunately they came to me. My only hope is that I will not fail them and continue to gain their trust.

Losing trust is devastating.
Betrayal is more painful than punches.
When you lose the trust of a child, you can never earn it back.
Too bad their relatives have crossed the line to the other side.

May 23, 2007

Phew!! Dancing with the Stars took its final bow last night. For the first time an athlete won the title, an ACTIVE athlete precisely. Emmit Smith won, yes yes yes, however he is a retired football player. Personally the long dragged out intermission is annoying. Goodness for that monthly steep payment to the cable provider for the DVR service, thus the one who rules the remote control can fast-forward through the jabber. STOP!! Carrie-Ann Inaba is holding up a paddle. At least I saw a legend of mine, Mohammad Ali.

*yawn. Another season ends. Boo hoo.

Nuff said.

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This was a conversation I overheard at the store between 2 men, probably in their late 20s.

"Did you see how the Army is wasting all that money looking for the 3 soldiers who wandered away?" Person 1.

"Yeah. What a waste man. They can spend the money on me instead." Person 2.

Laughter erupts. I steered the cart as quickly as possible to the next aisle to confront these imbeciles. They are a lot bigger than me and they smelt bad.

To the imbeciles, your conversation should have developed this way,
"I hope the MARINES locate the missing soldiers alive and punish those responsible." Person 1.
"If it weren't for their bravery, we will not be here looking at toothpaste smelling like 3 week old laundry, in the comfort of an air-conditioned major retail store. " Person 2.

A different Approach this time

4 years ago, as the results of the US elections were announced on the tele, I relayed the results onto a global chatroom. In the same night I was labelled a "racist red-neck hillbilly American elmer fudd". Just because I could receive CNN live on my tele. Of course those who know me laughed and are still laughing.

With this election, the stupidity of the candidates emerged prematurely. Smear tactics successfully transformed the candidates into self-effigies drowning in their bad odour.

Except for a struggling, Rudy Guliani, none of the candidates have come close to interesting. If Rudy can bring back his passion on Sept 12, 2001, he will prevail. In view of the current lack of intelligence, class, honor and of course heart, I will turn my attention to the other side of political analysis.

Focus shall be on the Best Heartfelt Lines by a Presidential Candidate.

Still waiting to hear one.

Take it from this polyglot, speaking the heartful truth is easier than lying.
To all the candidates, examples are omnipresent, "you will reap what you sow."

Or else ??

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, declared today at a conference in UAE, to retaliate severely if the US attacks Iran. Hm .... how would they retaliate, perhaps with the nuclear bombs and other WMD smuggled from Iraq that Iran apparently does not possess. Go ahead, lets call the bluff.

*throws in a few chips into the pot.

The world have been down this road not long ago, in the similar fashion, blar blar blar, again from a short height deprived, sicko insane mentally challenged leader, in the shape of Kim Jung Il.

*yawn, just reached the solution to defuse this situation.

Let's just send Hillary over into Iran. *too easy. How about this devoted fool-proof plan, just air drop Hillary in a Jean-Paul Gaultier (kisses to the man) pointed halter-top into Tehran, preferably into Ahmadinejad's bedroom. Allow Hillary to talk her way out of the situation. Make sure we have crews of camera men from a disposable reality show following them. Whichever way, it will be a whole lot of whoopee.

On this day ...

May 10th....
Means .....

Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to Mr Mike T.
Happy Birthday to yoooooooooouuuuuuuu.

Hehehe ... go ahead, Mr J. use this information with care.

In short ...

The overplayed saying, "Life is short."

How short? Physically, they can range from 3 feet tall to 110 storeys high. In the last few months, the lesson was obvious in the most insignificant. A simple trip to the family doctor that almost turned deadly, but unveiled the genuine sincerity from hearts, big or small. Giggles from a small group of short legged ones chasing 3 grown dogs while eluding dog poop, music to the ears. Serene smile across a black labrador while she laid the kids' pool, watching the other dog following the flock of birds fly past overhead, that smile is Mona Lisa.

The reality is that these moments will never return, the kids will grow up toooo fast and before I know it, I am no longer "Cool". Summer will be over and winter will sit in, covering the once green lush back yard into another winterland.

Taking it as I can, because life is too short.

March 28, 29, 2007. Trip to ER, again.

March 28, 29, 2007.

Trip to ER.

One more point for my boy toy Bill Gates, his visions of omnipresent computers has saved my sanity. Can you imagine being in bed for hours or days without any idea if or when you are heading home, begging for a shower, 2 day underwear cannot be turned anymore, etc etc.

Bothered by a nagging chest cold for a week, I caved and harrassed my cute family (married) doctor. In good faith, he prescribed an anti-biotic for the wheezing in the chest and Predosone, an oral steroid for the inflammation of the breathing system. Been there done this drug combination of an anti-biotic and steroids before. Wrote the check, left the office, went to Walmart to fill the prescription and spent more money. Chinese takeout for dinner. Took some steroids. Read the information pamphlet that accompanied the anti-biotic, since I had a previous allergic reaction with Zithromax. According to the instructions, this anti-biotic, tetracycline is to be taken 1 hour before or 2 hours a meal. Shucks!!! Waited around for 2 hours, while my chest seem to be getting worse. A few bouts with the albuteral nebulizer, barely made a dent in the relief efforts. 2 hours passed, time for dose number 1 of tetracylcine, a 4 chain of benzine rings. Blah Blah

The girls tended to themselves very well, getting themselves all ready for the night. Well done.
An hour later, I felt my throat constricting, I eluded to the fact of the unswept house, a little swig of Benedryl should help and did, just for a while.

12Am, About 4 hours after the first dose of the tetracycline, I finally arose from the couch. A wave of nausea overtook me, accompanied with a bout of heavy coughs. Mad bee line to the porcelain throne, disappointed to reacquaint with my dinner.
Heart-pounding, breath taking, and panic stole the next scene. I called out to upstairs, following thundering footsteps. "I cannot breathe, I think I am having an allergic reaction to the anti-biotic." I heard, "I am calling 911." I sat down on the coffee table, helped to find some numbers, gathered the medications and pamphlets. Suddenly, firemen and paramedics rushed through my front door. The next thing is the last thing I remembered, a pair of firemen boots and a paramedic was putting a gas mask over me, only bare sensations registered.

This is written about 6 hours later from the hospital bed, some of the haze is clearing. Amidst the painful surge for air, all I felt were 2 thumps.

Stories, movies and shows have been written about encountering loved ones who have passed away in a near death experience. My late Grandma appeared and smiled, holding her arms gently by her belly, the angelic beauty of my life. We had a conversation about the weather while strolling amongst trees. Grandma walked gracefully, limp less, just keeping in step next to me.

Then I saw a bell, this is the same bell that was passed to Ron. The significance of the bell is sacred, it was meant for his grandfather, however his grandfather never lived to receive it. An elderly Caucasian man was ringing the bell, I don't remember his entire face, just a gentle smile. 3 rings of the Bell.

The sensation was painful, my neck is on its side, but I cannot move. Mentally screaming to myself now, try the toes, wiggle them. They are not responding. Fingers. Maybe I can move them, alas, no feeling there either! Eyes, they are not listening to my commands either. Silence. I don't hear anything. Slowly I start to hear voices. I heard a woman's voice on my right,

"Another stick of EPI. She did not flinch with the first one. And it is not a bleeder."

"We have to run a EKG," said a man amidst returning sensations of someone putting stickers on me.

That same voice,"We many have to intubate her." I was shouting as loudly as i could, NO, you are not sticking a metal spoon down my throat, I want to eat!!
Amidst all the noises and pushing and poking (I believe they were ALL needles), I heard one voice. Not a stranger, not one who passed on. My loved voice, "...Wake UP!!"
"Can someone please straighten my neck, it is killing me," I think it came from me!
"Open you eyes for me," said the stranger on my left.
I tried as hard as I could, I wanted to see Ron. Only a flutter escaped.
A needle entered my right wrist.
"I need to draw some blood," said the lady on my right.
"I need some blood too," came from the left, another man, "I am done."
Lady on the right, "the first one blew out at me."
"Go further up to the elbow if you want blood, there is a fat one ready for you," I said. "Thanks, you know your arm," lady on the right.

"You could have asked first." I said jokingly.
Wisps of cold midst filled my face, at least I started to regain feeling in my face. Ah, the familiar breathing treatment.
"I need to take an x-ray of your chest okay. Please lean forward for me," chimed a lovely voice on the left. I opened my eyes and gazed at her. A look that simply said, make me. They have to move me.
Hands reached all over, err ... complain at a later time. X-rays were taken, all settled in again, however with shakes, uncontrollable convulsions took over my body. Muscles jittered everywhere, extreme opposite to not feeling anything.
Somehow, the crowd began to dissipate. Lights went out, curtains are drawn and quiet.

This is not my bedroom, reality smacked. Something had happened and I don't quite remember.

.... to be continued.

It is already May!!

How time flies. Half of the year has passed, the kids will be out of school in a month, winter chills still refuse to leave, Hillary hasnt choked on her cookies, etc. It is already May!! Time for the good ole boys to start playing in the dirt, aka FARMERS and planting season for the city slickers. Time is zipping past too fast.

Some how there is still never enough time to finish that list with only 2 items, Clean house and kids.

Some how there is a lesson behind all this rush.