Miss Informed

The racing thoughts that just won’t stop, are fed by little scraps of bad decisions.

Self-talk: words convincing myself that what I do is my right, and that no one else matters. Or worse, that it was well received.

The aftermath lasts for days. Wishing for a time-machine, or a large eraser.  Paranoia that is filled with second guessing.

Torture that never really hurt anyone, but could cut deeply.

What a delicious distraction to the old voices. So much louder in my adult voice – my old habits that die hard – the small cries have been drowned by incoherent drunken ramblings.

Every moment of every day, second by second,   I listen and try to decipher. The more I try to make it make sense, the more lost and insecure I feel.


All is not what it seems.

Trust is broken in a thousand ways.

Allowing someone else to believe you are someone you aren’t is a cruel joke…especially when the punchline is not delivered until years later.

That is the fault with humans…We are ever evolving, even on the individual level. The person you meet and fall in love with will not be the same person five, ten or forty years from now.

What is faithfulness?  To whom, or what, are we faithful? Ideals? Traditions? Our perceptions? 

And what lies do we tell ourselves, and to what degree do we believe them?  We believe the ones that serve us best, and recreate all the rest.


The soft breaths coming from across the room let her know that her mother was finally resting peacefully.

Yesterday, that seemed impossible. What was often a dull ache in her thigh, stemming from a blockage in her femoral artery, progressed into a tingly, radiating pain that spread through her entire thigh and down the leg.  The pain continued even as the leg went numb.

No amount of massaging would help alleviate it.  They tried shifting positions, but Mom was too weak to hold her own weight.  A second hand was needed to help her stand, and that was good for five seconds or less.  ‘Walking it off’ may have helped, but that was no longer possible.

One of the biggest frustrations while staying in a hospital is the staff’s lack of urgency.  My mom was in pain.  She was evaluated, and prescribed medication. Two HOURS later we finally received it.  Two hours of shifting position. Two hours of watching the clock and calling for the nurse to see if the meds had finally gotten there. Two hours of knowing that everything your Mom needs to feel better is within reach, but you aren’t allowed to retrieve it or administer it.

She let the gentle snoring repair her broken heart.

Bagel – toasted.

March on by little warrior.

Don’t let all of these weak souls, who can’t get by without coffee, let alone chemo, stand in your way.

Four years is just enough time to teach you exactly how you want your blueberry bagel.

A wave of the hand, a cock of the head, and this little lady will have the world at her fingertips, cancer be damned.


A chance for a moment away. A glass of white, a seat alone.

A moment alone in a sea of strangers;  and not the interesting types.

Surrounded by screens and snarky comments. Not quite the peaceful getaway she imagined.

Hoping for a chance encounter the with an interesting soul, she was sorely disappointed.  What WAS this place?!

She didn’t know where to look, so chose to look everywhere.  Such an annoying cackle…Was he grunting in response?  The splash of the sink echoed the splatter of the fryer.Hockey, Football, DIY TV…Screens everywhere.

What’s this? A new development. Two strangers exchanging seats and conversation.  Thanks for the change of scenery.


Holding my breath, waiting for the inevitable…

Breathing a sigh of relief when given more time.

Huge gasp when things turn bad again…

Hold it, watch and wait for the next band-aid…

Exhale when stability is returned.

Breathe in to prepare for what news may come…

Hold it, in order to focus on what needs to be done…

Slow, comforting exhale when a plan is made that is stopped short for new information… then begin again as bits are processed…

The room spins…but only for a second…no passing out for you, my dear – keep your focus, keep your heart – your breaths are not just yours.

Captain’s log, Stardate: 11417

The crew has been getting restless.

There is a sense of unease about what the next few days might bring.

Lack of sleep, noise, and strange encounters with young phlebotomists have us questioning our original purpose here.

While most of the other beings have been kind and empathetic, the ones who aren’t make us want to abort the mission and head for home.  

If it weren’t for the common objective of the greater good, this might serve as the crews’ breaking point

Moment by Moment

​Is it possible to age ten years in three days time?
Her face said yes, her heart said…Maybe?
Moment by moment the answer changed.
She was a child, lost and confused.
She was up for promotion as matriarch of their kingdom, and able to leap to important decisions in a single bound, and quickly.
Mostly, she was tired, and those endearing lines were telling all of her secrets.

The Advocate

​A scream that could make your eardrums bleed.
But not loud enough to block the hum of the machines in the background.
Ill-timed and misdirected words.
A moment’s distraction,  taken to heart.
The difference between a comforting conversation and a sonic boom, pushing their miles exponentially further apart.