FUNNYACCENT

Present Is a Gift

Two Fridays ago at the end of my group session I gave the clients a sort of riddles. I've always started and ended group sessions with riddles or trivia that I hope to help them to have more awareness of the HERE and NOW. I told them to walk down Massachusetts Avenue, turn onto left onto Washington Street and look for Andy."

"Who is Andy?"

"Why is he  on Washington Street?"

"Is he old, is he young?"

"What is he doing on Washington Street?"

"Will I know him when I see him?"

"Give us a hint, a clue".

"I already gave you the clue."

"What is it?"

"Walk down the............"

"That's not the clue."

"Turn left on Washington Street is the clue. I could've said walk down on Washington Street instead."

"OOOhhhh.......this is hard Ana, ooppppss sorry, you said not to use hard, this is a challenge Ana. The last one was easier."

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I developed this habit a few years ago when I became frustrated and a huge challenge for me to stay in the moment. My mind started to wander back and forth thinking about why didn't I say this when so and so said that as I was opening a refrigerator door. When I closed the refrigerator I was still beating myself. The next thing I knew I was looking for my apartment key. When I retraced my steps, there was my keys sitting pretty on Dannon Yogurt screaming furiously at me: You dumbass woman, what the hell were you thinking leaving me here in a cold!!!

I've found out that when I walked down the streets and started to pay attention to missing letters on the store signs, odd shapes of street lamps, windows and doors of the buildings or noticed the crooked street signs because of the missing nails or stopped to look at the curve and letters on manhole tops, or an empty coffee cup shoved into check valve of fire hydrant on State Street, I could get myself on the here and now mode. I felt there was a door opened up somewhere within me that I became more alert of my surrounding. All of sudden I felt I have more energy, more vibrant. Perhaps I reactivated some lazy cells that had been sleeping for a long time.

The more I practiced it the more I enjoyed it, and the longer I could stay on the here and now mode. But I was also aware the wonderful feeling didn't stay long if I started to day dream again. So it has been a constant challenge.

I didn't return to work until this Monday. And on Monday morning as I was checking a bunch of messages on my voice mail, AM, one of the guys from the session stood outside my office door and wrote a word in the air. His face was flushed with excitement. I made a sign to come on in.

"Ana, Ana, I found Andy.'' He put his palms together up in front of his chest Iike I've always do after the sessions. He was grinning, exposed his two missing front teeth.

"Andy is a dry cleaning store." He did a Tiger Wood fist pump up.

When Scratching Was Not an Option

After a week scratched and tried very hard not to scratch myself, I went back to work on Monday. When I woke up on Monday morning, I was a little alarm to see the new blotches and patches appeared on my thighs and arms. The old ones were all gone. I used up all the cream and by Saturday I called them at the Health Center asking them to prescribe a new tube. They called the pharmacy and I went to pick up the new tube an hour later.

The sessions, group meetings and catching up paper work helped me through the day. When I got home in the evening, the big blotches on both of my front thigh have thinned considerably. This morning I noticed the big patches behind my knees and on the side on my right lower leg were visible but the size has shrunken. Small patches on my  scattered on both sides of my ribs. I decided to go to they gym.

I missed running. I haven't ran since I had the surgery. The two weeks resting was due six days ago. I ran on the treadmill for 90 minutes switching the incline from -2 to 15 every 15 minutes. The first 15 minutes was a little struggle, but it went smoothly once I got back into the rhythm.

Only when I was in the shower I realized all the blotches and patches were gone, completely. I couldn't believe my eyes. There were no sign at all that  this morning the patches were still menace, red and visible.

I turned around and around looking for a trace. There was none. As it was never happened.

Now, I am not going to wonder why as I've done many times before. I am happy and grateful.

Thank you for all the prayers and best wishes from close and far away friends and continuously support from Kak N. I love  you Kak N.

Yesterday and Before

Photo Hunt 94- Old-fashioned

The picture was taken during our trip to Mahsuri Tomb in Langkawi Island, Malaysia, November 2006.

This old machine was used to flatten the rubber in rubber processing.

I think the last time I saw this type of machine in action was forty years ago.

Reflection

As I am sipping a hot coffee and nibbling dried figs on my couch, I flip a month old Doctors Without Border newsletter I picked up on the subway last week. My th0ught is, something is wrong with all these pictures. I google and here are the photos I am having in my hand.

If you watch all the ten photos, I wonder if you wonder what I wonder? I'll be back to write about my wondering thought.

A Short Confession of a Book Hoarder

Call me a pickle-brain booklover, a scattered brain bookho or a navel- fuzzy book hoarder, but sometimes I pick up books off the shelves not because they are on the best sellers list, best reviews, award winners or a solid recommendation from another fellow book lovers.

I pick them out because I like the book covers, like Small Island by Andrea Levy, A Fruit of Lemon by the same author (still on my waiting-to-be-read-bookshelf), The Baker by Paul Hond (a cover picture of bread store). For some reasons I'm trying to understand why a book cover of sidewalk cafe' fascinates me., or pomegranate, orchid, seahorse, frog, swan or mushroom.

I never heard of Maile Meloy before, but when I saw her book, A Family Daughter sat on the shelf at Target, I said out Maile Meloy loud enough that I could hear my own voice. I rolled and flipped Mai le Me loy on my tongue for a second time, picked up the book, ran my hand over the cover, gave the book a quick scan and dropped it my shopping basket. And I was right about her. I couldn't put the book down when I got home.

Her writing style was simple, but it has strength that I drew immediately to the characters. At the end of the book, I felt like giving Abby a warm hug and tell her: I'm so glad we met.

Once, I talked with another book lover/hoarder about a similar trait we share. We love reading book about dysfunctional family. And this was our conclusion: We try to understand each character in our family, we're making an effort to make sense of the past actions of our grandparents, parents, siblings that have shaped and molded us into who we are.

An Afternoon on Stuart Street

Despite a minor setback in health department, I managed to turn up at New England School of Law yesterday afternoon. I was one of the four panels invited by Andrea Hall, our moderator from Department of Psychiatry, Boston Medical Center to talk about the Impact of Criminal Record on Service Eligibilty. The other three panels were a Housing Case Manager from Shattuck Shelter, a Housing Liaison form Fuller Bay Cove of Department of Mental Health and a Program Monitor from Department of Mental Retardation.

The audience were mostly counsels and attorneys from Boston Municipal Court Clinic, Boston Municipal Court Department of Mental Health and UMass Medical School Department of Psychiatry.

Each of us was given 10 minutes to talk about our experiences working with the clients and the impact of CORI on them. I tried to make the best of ten minutes by presented the challenges I face on daily basis working with dual or multiple diagnosed clients, the benefits of a structured program and the barriers to employment and housing for clients with CORI.

I pointed it out to the audience that working with clients with substance abuse history with dual diagnosis is like holding an onion, you cut it into halves and you see layer after layer. You don't simply pull any layer you like because you'll break the onion apart. Work carefully with each layer unless the onion decides to choose which layer he wants to reveal himself to you, that would be another story.

Before I ended my presentation I shared with the audience the same thing I've told the new clients: They don't get up one morning to become an addict or an alcoholic. It takes many years. And to expect them to turn around and change their behavior and their thinking within a few weeks, one or two months after they enter the program is not practical.

After our presentation, there were 20 minutes for questions. I was glad I used a metaphor working with an onion, because a few of the audiences approached me later and told me they never thought about it before.

Before I left for the talk, I slathered myself with a medicated cream. Four hours later the cream started to wear off. I excused myself and left. I didn't want to scratch myself like a monkey in there.

Only when I got home I thought about approaching The Director and to tell her that I went to the presentation on my medical leave day. I could hear her voice: "What? You crazy woman.You worked on your day off? You're suppossed to get plenty of rest."

Somewhere In a Trunk

Thursday Challenge

When We Were Immortal

It was holiday here on Monday, a MLK Day. As usual I woke up with giddiness when I knew I had an extra day to be at home. After some stretches and meditation, I brew a small pot of coffee, jotted something in my journal and got into a shower.

While slathering my back with a coconut body oil I felt something different under my fingers on the back of my waits. I looked at the mirror and I noticed a reddish spot the size of a quarter. Then I noticed three smaller spots scattered around the big spot. My first thought was a rash. I had them once a while. I applied Bernadryl and went to the gym.

On the stair master, the itch on the back of my knees and elbows was unbearable. I scratched and scratched.  Boyyyyyyyyy, that was good. Two hours later when I was changing my clothes in a locker room I noticed the rash had spread wider behind my knees. I was still convinced it was just a rash. I stopped at CVS to get Extra Strength Benadryl.

Later in the evening, after I had my dinner, I put on a pair of clean cotton gloves. I was hoping by wearing the gloves, the severity of getting my skin scratched would be reduced. If you ever had a rash before, you know how wonderful it was when you scratched and scratched the itchy parts. It was not as wonderful as having an orgasm, but it was wonderful nevertheless.

The next morning when I woke up, I was shocked to see big red patches on my arms, waits, thighs and legs. I felt funny on my left ear. And I got my left ear bigger than my right ear.

I stripped naked, stood in front of the mirror and looked at my body in horror. I cried right there because the patches have multiplied within few minutes. It was like watching some gred D low budget movies where some sort of globs invaded the city. And it was not a pretty sight when a naked grown woman with red patches all over her body cried.

I called The Director on her cell to let her know I won't be in for work at least for a couple of days. Then I called the community health center and asked for Deb a liaison at Breasts Health Dept. Deb has been very supportive for the past three months. When I told her my situation, she squeezed me into one of the slots that gave me 20 minutes to get there.

"Deb, I live about 15 minutes walk from the center. I'll be there as soon as I can. Deb, thank you so much."

While waiting for the doctor, my mind started to wander about my health for the past months.  I seldom get sick, l don't even get a headache. When I hear people say they get a headache and need an aspirin, or tylenol, or ibuprofen, I couldn't comprehended at all. The only time I get a headache when my head bumps into something solid.

And there I was sitting in the examination room waiting for a doctor. I have no idea how many times I've had appointments with doctor since September 2006 right before I had a biopsy for my cervical.

I was more than grateful, I was more than thankful for the healthy life I've been blessed all these years, but it didn't stop me from wondering.

The doctor said it was hive when he saw red patches scattered all over my body. They looked more like a lost map, little islands here and there, peninsula and a little lakes on my back. Five or six continents spread from my abs and connected to the lake to the ponds on my waist.  He asked me the food that I had consumed, the dishwasher, the detergents, the bleach, the softener. Same, same, same, same and same.

I was exhausted then to ask him anymore questions. He gave me the prescription and adviced me to take the rest of the week off from work if possible. "Änd try not to take a hot shower for now, perhaps every other day."

"Every other day? I cannot do that. I have to take a shower everyday."

"Hot shower will make it worse."

He also said there were two possibilities after I applied the cream. The present patches would be thinned out by tomorrow and the new ones would come out or the present patches would thinned out.

I stopped at the pharmacy at Shaw's Supermarket. A big tube of 2.8 oz. cream to apply every 4 hours, 60 capsules (3x/day) that would make me sleepy.

I called the work place and requested for the rest of the week off.

And the next morning, the old patches were almost gone and the new ones appeared, but they were pretty small and mild.

I changed into running gear and went out for a walk along Charles River. It was sunny and chilly afternoon, but I enjoyed the walk.

Saturday at The Movies

My friend, Barrman and I have been discussing about Daniel Day Lewis way before There Will Be Blood came out. We are both DDL's fan. Barrman likes DDL because he is DDL and I like DDL because he is DDL, and I told Barrman DDL is sexy.

"Well, I'm not saying anything to that," rolling his eyes like a pair of marbles.

"He was hot in The Last of Mohicans."

"Do I have to listen to this?"

"You might as well."

We sipped and dunk cranberry scones into our hot drinks and compared notes of all DDL's movies. We even wondered about his affairs with Juliet Binoche, Isabella Adjanni, Julia Roberts and his current wife Rebbecca Miller.

I dunk the last piece of my scone and started to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Why are we discussing Daniel Day Lewis's love affairs?"

"I don't know." He threw back his head and laughed.

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We went to 1:25 pm slot. Barrman got into a line for tickets ,and I went to CVS on Washington Street to get some snacks and a bottle water for me and pomegrante juice for Barrman. When I return to the theatre he was already at the front. I wasn't surprised that it was a full house. DDL's fans have been waiting for his new movie.

It was 2.6 hours long and when we came out, we were both dazzled, amazed, a little confused and we both agreed the ending was not something we expected at all.  I found the background music was distracted at some scenes. But as for me, only Daniel Day Lewis could came out so solid, so strong as Daniel Plainview. I couldn't put my finger on Daniel Plainview character.

Spirit Popper

"It''s lovely outside. It's about mid 30's I think." I said to Tran, a lundromat owner.

"Yeah....it's gorgeous. I got to get out as soon my daughter in law comes in." said Tran as she unloaded a mountain of washed laundry from the washer.

"Tomorrow will be really, really bad. Minus 0 I think.. Don't you hate winter? Ohhh... I hate winter.Bla..bla...bla....bla." A man in blue track suit, gray sweater with all his mighty tyring to pop our spirits while he was flipping his dried boxer on the folding table.

I looked at Tran with an expression, here we go again. Tran rolled her eyes and said, "It doesn't matter. Tomorrow is tomorrow."

Spirit poppers as I like to refer these characters seldom see positive side in anything or anybody.  They always have to say something unpleasant. I wonder how their minds work?