Common Ground and Crappy Day

You have probably noticed that I have a lot of friends. I have friends all over the country, as well as in some other countries. I have friends I have know for a really long time, like Crystal, Patty and Mary. Another slew are from college. I have friends from the various schools I have taught at, other jobs I have held, and places I have lived. I have friends I met at Alumni Band who may be older or younger than I am. I have friends I have made through Facebook, some of whom I hope to meet, but some who live very far away I likely never will.

In this vast array of people, there is no one who I agree with 100% of the time. We have different political views, or parenting views, or other contrasting values or beliefs.  None of these things have prevented us from being friends. Sometimes we discuss the topics we disagree on and I often gain a new perspective on the issue. I hope he/she does too. I don't necessarily change my mind. He/she doesn't either. Sometime we do have to agree to disagree. You can scroll past on Facebook. Email has a delete button for a reason.

This is not to say I haven't ever had an argument or disagreement with a friend. I've had some. I have had times when I had to say/write/email/Facebook post and say, "This is offensive to me. Here is why. Please don't send me anything else like this."  A good example of this would be around Christmas time there are often the "War on Christmas" lines that start going around. Some of them, upon close reading, are complaining about my family. Those non-Christians. While I am technically still a Christian as I never converted, my family is Jewish. We belong to a synagogue. Karina had a Bat Mitzvah. As my girls are often the only Jewish kids at their school, I never made a big deal out of any of it. Santa comes to school. Fine. Christmas pageant, fine. All the rest. No problem. Picture day on Yom Kippur. Problem. We don't have picture day on Easter Sunday. A couple of times I've had to send a brief email saying that there is a conflict. I never made a big stink. When the War on Christmas emails come, I generally disregard them unless they are so egregious I have to point out, "You know those are my kids you are talking about?" Yes, we are "you people."

But despite differences of opinion or occasional conflict, we are still friends. We are good enough friends that people have put their lives on hold to come and help us out. Not once, but time and time again. We have been awash in kindness since this ordeal began in October.

I bring this up because of the increasing conflict in the world. I wouldn't dream of even trying to wade into the Israel/Hamas debate. My only input is that when I see Jewish businesses being burned and synagogues attacked, it is too much WW II for me and makes me fear for my children.

Iraq. Afghanistan. The Ukraine. Terrorists. So much violence.

Here in the US, people are polarized in the extreme. Thanks to the magic of the internet and cable tv, now we can chose to only hear the news from the slant we want to hear it. We can insulate ourselves with people who think what we think. And those "other people" are just crazy.

Why is it we can pull together when there is a crisis, but we can't work together on a day to day basis? Why is it we can find common ground in friendships, but not with people we don't know? I've said it before, but, what would happen if we worked together for the common good instead of for war, and hate, and fear-mongering? Trillions are spent on killing people. What else could we do with that money?

Soap box away.

Yesterday I had acupuncture and over all a pretty good day. I missed Reggie, but I felt okay and was reasonable functional. I left acupuncture with six mini needles and feeling pretty well.

Today, for whatever reason, was not such a pleasant day. I hurt last night and that rolled into hurting this morning. Swollen face. Extremely tight neck. Uncomfortable. But I got up and dressed and ready to roll.

We dropped Karissa at camp and then headed over to Kelly's office. He has a meeting this morning, so I hung out in his office. The newspaper and Facebook was sufficient distraction. But my neck really hurts and I cannot find a comfortable way to sit in any chair. I did manage to walk to and from the parking garage. The exercise was fine, but the inability to lift my head to see where I was going was supremely frustrating.

After Kelly's meeting it was time to head to PT. Karen took one look at me and knew I was a mess. She did quite a bit of work with me sitting up, trying to release my neck. She did a lot of work and I felt much better when I left. But all those muscles are still so very angry.

We went home and I took up my perch on the couch. Kelly had some lunch and blended me some lunch and then it was time to pick up Karissa. I just couldn't, so I stayed home.

There are so many things that need doing. They almost seem to mock me. Yet I just ache. Walking around is a supreme effort. For some reason my nose is clogging up. I hoping allergies, although I've never had them before. The only upside is when my nose is clogged, I can't smell the horrible chemical off-gassing smell coming out the trach. Ugh! It is so yucky.

The pain really brings me down. In general, I can usually push through the pain, but this is too much. Double dose of muscle relaxer and some Tylenol, please. Not being able to lift my head is frustrating, too. The scar tissue is shorter on the left side, which is why my head collapses to that side. I had been sleeping with a rolled up washcloth wedged in there, which helped, but now that the wound is oozing more, the cloth started sticking. Pulling it off was too unpleasant. So I am back to mostly cadaver sleeping, propped up on my mountain of pillows. I have to slide up/slide down trying to find the sweet spot where my right arm nerves don't scream from the elbow down.  Oh, if I could just get a solid night of sleep.

Hopefully I will feel better tomorrow. Karissa and Kelly are going to the fair. I don't have the stamina for the walking around and certainly not for the heat. Strolling through the livestock exhibits with an open trach probably isn't a great idea, either. The preserves would likely just depress me as I always going to enter "next year." So I will be hanging at home. Which is fine as long as the pain isn't making me batty.

That's my tale of woe. Hopefully I'll have a cheerier yarn to weave tomorrow. I hope you are all well.

Love,
Kiara