As I learn To Read Braille...

As I learn to read braille I think about all those colors my book mentioned, had I been born blind I would find those sentences really boring. I can see fuzzy colors, and I know colors but if I didn't ,well I think about all the ways a writer could describe colors using other senses, I think blue smells of a spring day...or perhaps it feels of a jump in a cold lake, the morning before the sunrise. Dark green could be like fresh spinach ( yes I remember what that tastes like), the smell of a fern or a mossy forest.

I figure you're probably lost with the time lapsed between blogs, well.... my parents are divorced, the mill closed, my brother is married, I have nephews. 

For environmental awareness and as a challenge I wore the same grey children's dress from Wool& for 100 days this summer.... It was easy because I am mostly a dress girl.

I attended Camp G.L.O.W. this summer via Zoom which is a Catholic camp for people with disabilities... I wanted to go in person but that wasn't an option. 

I got involved with The Love One Another Project and helped with sticker art, also spoke through the internet to a school class and ended up in the Newspaper... 2 different times actually.... 

Tried to get donations for Patch Adams, yes much has happened.

So I made a lot of friends through the dress challenge and the stickers...

You probably wonder about my health, well it's not the same...but everyday is a new one.

I never know what tomorrow brings but you don't either. So no matter what happens we gotta just keep on rolling onwards .

When I Am Silent

When I am silent this does not mean I have nothing to say, it just means that sometimes it is really difficult to say the words in me  or that sometimes with all my meds it feels like my head is full of sealing wax and  duct tape and a buch of brightly colored yarn and by the time all these things start to unravel from me it is time to be drugged again. What am I to say??? I say nothing for everything is stuck in this strange reality. and when I have come away from being a drugged I feel myself falling backwards into seizureland and I must admit this strange feeling that I shall not come back is rather annoying. I don't want to go away right now.

How Mommy Found Me A Compassionate Doctor Who Would Hear My Cry...

 Neruologists can be a very frightening bunch and even though some just said I was too much for them to take on, it was not helpful and things only got worse....but then it actually finally got to the point that some mean and rude doctors knew that I wasn't a fake...I have been called that before.
 I believe that they just didn't know how to treat a case as mine so they probably decided to just let things go even if taking no action was worse.
So where did my mother find this most compassionate person who works hard and cares for his patients?? The good old phone book.

This is not to say that I have not found great men who treated me kindly at hospital and a Muslim man granted me great kindness and mercy before, I cannot judge a man because of religion for we all are sinners and all have bad days... I just wanted the grown up world to be the way my mind thought it would be and it leaves me disturbed... But that's how sin is.
I still have much to learn and I am not saying that I thought Christians were better than anyone else is in their own human ways. I just guess I truly am stupid to of ever thought people were kinder to each other.