It happened…

…to me

I have read about this happening.  I have known other people it has happened to.  I guess I always knew that it would happen to me one day.  But when it does, it is devastating.  I was crushed.  OMG!  I have been ma’am ed!

Recently I was going into a shop, intent on buying something inconsequential, when I was approached.  What happened next changed me for the rest of my life.  An attractive young man walked up to me, wide eyed and smiling.  He said ”Can I help you ma’am?”  Ma’am.  Ma’am? MA’AM?

Evidently I have reached an age where I am no longer a ‘miss’ I am a ‘ma’am’.  I know the young man was being respectful but it is difficult when that word hits your ears for the first time.  I can no longer give credence to the image I have in my head of a sweet young thing.  I have aged.  I am old.  Wait!  I am so not there yet!

Okay, okay.  Perhaps I’m being a little ridiculous.  But women everywhere understand what it’s like to be greeted with that honorific for the first time.  Yes, It is a sign of respect.  But to the individual it is so much more.  I guess I have reached the age when my mere presence is grounds for respectfulness.  I still think of myself as a silly young woman when in reality I have reached Junior-Senior status.

When we are born we form an opinion of ourselves that is rudimentary.  We eat, we sleep, we evacuate.  There is no nice way to say we poop!  It is the cycle of life.  We are born, we live, we die.  It is the living part that gets messy.

As we grow up our opinion of ourselves changes.  We start to accept others’ opinions.  We often give more weight to the opinion of strangers even though they do not know us.  I have reached an age where I am able to dispense with a lot of the baggage that I grew up with.  I look inwards for validation instead of outwards.  And that doesn’t mean I don’t welcome the opinions of others.  It just means that I don’t only rely on others to feel good about myself.  I like who I am.  Some days I am drop-dead gorgeous!  I refuse to give credence to the reflection in a mirror when I’m in such a good mood!

Okay I have also noticed that I have slowed down a little bit.  Part of that of course is because I have multiple sclerosis and I’m in a wheelchair.  But yes I have to admit that perhaps part of that is because I am getting, cough, cough, cough, older.

We live in a world of fast cars, fast food and fast computes. Hurry up,  faster, faster. Deadlines. Time is money, early bird catches the worm.  Is it any wonder we seem to be programmed from infancy to see the world at 100 kms an hour? 

I guess a little more rethinking has to be done as to my place in this world.  My time here may be finite but I ain’t done yet!  Maybe I’ll just slow down a wee bit.


Crazy On The Inside

The fun part of this guest blogger thingee, that we’re all doing for A-M; and the lazy part, is that I don’t have to come up with anything new to write about or offer to the jungle that is this Land of WordPressia.

I have lot’s of posts that no one has read, admired or recognized the God given talent it takes to create this caliber of…inane dribble; or is it “drivell” or “drivele” (Hell, I don’t know)

I wish I knew big words like S’Momus.

She’s edumuhcated….

I saw her cleavage on Facebook, once….I swear! Ask her sister!!!


Anywhos, now that you all have the image of A-M’s heaving bosoms prancing around social media outlets, let’s visit one of my first posts that A-M liked and commented on.

“It’s kind of a “long post” but goood”

That’s what S’Momus said, I swear!

Randy little Scot….

She was one of my first.

Grrrr….I love teachers.

Enjoy: Double Shot of Owie

For the new people that have no life and are trolling….

I feel you…

There are some things in this world of mine…and probably others that bother me.

I will give you a quick perspective into what I mean.

As you get older there are things on your body that begin to decline…and just plain fall off.Image

Your hair gets thinner or takes up permanent resident status with your brush, church pews, cheap sweaters, the sink or a comb in my case.

The toe nails and finger nails change their molecular structures and become possible instruments of ocular extraction.

Skin becomes drier and looser thus causing the application of numerous chemical compounds in order to prevent friction and/or possible fire, and thus, increasing the chance of causing cancer and/or addiction.

Joints pop. Back pops. Neck pops. Fingers pop. Toes pop.

Yes…I have become Sir Pops-a-Lot.

I am not obese. I am heavy of course, DUE TO THE FACT that I have no will power at all where Wendy’s or Taco Bell is concerned.

I am a genetically engineered consumer of fast foods.

A poor man that is dependant upon salt, sugar and fat…and Pepsi…and Bud Light…and…other stuff I can’t recall

I am a devotee of Yellow #5 and Mono-Sodium Glutamate.

It’s sad…I agree.

I wonder if the parts of my body that are becoming useless, saggy, or just in the way, is caused by my lifestyle?

I know it is really, but denial is all I have left that is mine.

I have also come to the realization, (for it is evident) that I am a closet Hypochondriac. I have not “come” out yet.

I get little “ghost pains” and twinges, blinks, twitches and throbbing that occur for no reason…well, you old bastards know what I mean.

I can be sitting, or standing or basically breathing when I will get one of these phantom owies.

Hell…I can’t even vegetate on my couch in a potatoic repose!

Here’s what happens in my brain:

A pain in my calf: “Oh crap! I’ve got a blood clot! [No ER]

A pain in my bicep: “Holy crap! I’ve got a blood clot!” [No ER]

A pain in my right side: “Oh crap! I’ve got appendicitis…or a blood clot”! [No ER]

A pain in my left side: “Holy Shit! I’m having a heart attack!” [Think about ER]

A headache is “definitely an aneurysm”. [No ER]

A bad visit to Taco Bell or Wendy’s: “Holy Hannah, I’ve got E Coli #2435261!” [No toilet paper]

I am getting so tired of these little pains and hypochondriatic spells…shit falling out…falling off…hanging off and just plain unpleasant to look at, or even smell.

That’s right…smell!

There are odors that escape from my body that I KNOW can only be caused by dead or dying tissues and/or failing organs.

When a grown man reaches a point in his life that he no longer smiles at his own farts, but assumes a disgusted or even alarmed reaction to them…it’s too late.

Pepto-Bismol is a lie!!

There is no going back to 21 or 25 yrs of age.Image

I won’t even get into the memory lapses. Well, just this observation…

I am starting to remind myself of my grandmother (Bless her heart).

I can remember things that happened when I was 3 yrs old!! Really!

But where are the truck keys? Where’s my pen? What was I just gonna do? Did I take my medicine?

Shit…I’m gonna have a heart attack!

I used to be sexy.

Quite a handsome guy…

But…now…I look like someone else’s grandpa.

I have now looked in a mirror and actually said “Good lord Trey” and not in a religious manner either.

It’s the blood clots…I’m sure of it.

I had my first real panic attack just a short time ago, from a dead sleep…woke me up!

[Yes on the ER]

I knew I was dying…someone was trying to kill me…the room was getting smaller…I couldn’t breathe!…”Where’s my damn socks!” Chaos…

All my blood clots were finally breaking loose! It was terrible.

I’ve never had a panic attack before. It lasted about 6 hrs. That is technically not an attack…it is a siege.

This only happen’s to old women right?

Great…I’ve turned into an old lady that looks like someone elses grandpa.

Only cost me a million dollars at the ER.

Thank GOD! I had insurance…my co-pay was only $300,000

• Blood test (6 tubes!)

• Standard chest x-ray

• Oxygen tube in my nose

• Got ran through the big machine that spins around and around…the people behind the screen say…”Hold your breath now!”

20 minutes later…”Now breathe”…then Vanna claps…Pat claps…Imageand I spin the Bankrupt…

And all I got from the hospital was a bottle of water. No pill no shot…anything to stop whatever was happening to me.

I was freaking out!!

But, they didn’t worry about the poor old guy with all his shit falling off. They just ran me through all the tests during a panic attack and didn’t tell me anything! For 6 hrs!!!

Diagnosis: Narcissistic Paranoid Hypochondria

The only saving grace was the x-rays were clear…

My vitals and juices were up to snuff.

And mostly…no blood clots. (I did ask them to check for me while I was there)

I think they lied though. I still get the little ghost pains.

How long does it take for a blood clot to form?

Oh….Something else that I want to get into real quick while I’m thinking about it….

There are lots of wonderful people in the world.

They are kind, considerate and empathetic.

They are sensitive to another’s needs and quick to offer advice when needed.

There is only one problem though:

They mean well.

Let me explain the folly of these good intentions.

If you paid any attention to the above, you are aware of my…problem.

Like I have stated; I am a victim of Narcissistic Paranoid Hypochondria (to be referred to henceforth as NHP). I made up the word because it seems to cover the entire spectrum and endless parameters of my “condition”. Those ailments that have happened…are happening, or are going to happen.

It is a total figment of my imagination and I’m cool with that.

I am a firm believer that if it can be thought of…it can happen. I am also one year away from my 50th birthday and have come to except the fact that I am not as spry or young as I used to be.

No No…it’s true.

I’m just glad it hasn’t affected my handsomeness or animal magnetism.

It’s not the roads I traveled…it’s the miles baby!

Here is a scenario for y’all…tell me if this has happened to you.

You are explaining to a friend or acquaintance that you have a newly discovered ailment.

We do that sort of thing after 40.


That’s what we talk about.


After you explain the chronology, biology, incubation, and personification of said ailment, your friend looks concerned. Even makes sympathetic overtures and comforts you.

Then…just as soon as they have convinced you it’s not all that bad…

They do it! They can’t help it….

They either have had the same ailment (only much worse of course) or know someone or even knew someone that had something like you described.

Unfortunately the one they “knew” has passed away, but they don’t know if that particular ailment was the cause of it.

NHP terror scale 1-10? ….5

They start describing the ailment.

One of the problems for victims of NHP, that we encounter, is that every time a ‘well meaning’ person describes a freaking symptom of said ailment, it is instantly locked into our minds as if though it’s been there the whole…damn…time….just waiting to kill us.

We just never noticed it before….

“Hell yeah…it’s happening right now!” “Damn, I didn’t notice that particular symptom, but now that you’ve described it…”

NHP terror scale 1-10?…7

Holy Shit!

As these nice people keep explaining the several different variations, symptoms and related diseases that can, has or might cause this ailment…shit that I’m definitely gonna Google later, The NHP enters its infectious stage.

I begin to feel the pain in my left side. I can feel a blood clot forming in my leg. The very thing that this person is explaining as a possible cause for my ailment begins to fester and become chronic….becomes real.

NHP terror scale 1-10?…9

You don’t do that to victims of NHP!

Don’t explain your related ailments then add big scientific names to them!

And for God Sakes don’t tell them the symptoms or what to check for!

They’ll never leave the freaking house!

My insurance won’t even begin to cover me for the things I “think” are wrong with my dumb ass!

WebMD is a drug for victims of HP. It was created just for us. We are the life blood of pharmaceutical companies!

We are the trail blazers in the Land of Pharmacopeia!

We suffer so that mankind may prosper and be symptom free…

Now, while I’m sitting here in my truck writing this, I can feel my varicose vein in my leg throbbing and it feels hot to the touch. My left shoulder is tight and feels hot. I think I’m getting a toothache…my cheek feels hot.

NHP terror scale 1-10?…10

Why would y’all do that to me?

You know I suffer from NHP.

If you have an ailment that seems to match the symptoms to any of mine…don’t tell me.

Just say something like “Oh, you’re full of shit Trey, there’s nothing wrong with you…you’re too young and handsome to have problems like that”.

ImageIs that too much to ask?

I know you mean well…but humor the crazy person.