Remembering the Remarkable
THIS IS NOT A SPONSORED POST * THIS POST IS COMPLETELY UNSOLICITED
and 100% ALL ME.
If you know me, you know that I’m not about the fluff and not about the “jump on the bus” mentality. So take it as my word, and if it applies to you, thank me later, if not, keep looking.
I am medically known as a zebra, believe it or not this is actually relevant to this post and I will try to keep it short. For those of you that don’t know what a medical Zebra is, CONGRATS chances are you don’t have 50 kazillion rare or weird medical issues, but this post is STILL for you, and those of you who are fellow zebras, sorry I feel your pain, *fist bump*, I hope this post can HELP you. In the list of glorious diagnosis that make me a zebra: I have had a headache since April of 2007 thanks to Chiari, I have muscle and joint issues, stomach issues, balance, memory, sometimes vision/hearing, nerve issues in my limbs and memory, oh wait, see told you memory. There’s a lot more but that’s enough to give you the general idea I’m basically a (sometimes) walking, often falling, hot mess. But I’m a grateful hot mess, and I have a fantastical life I wouldn’t trade for anything, and I do LOVE waking up on this side of the dirt daily, even though some of the days I find it monumental to just drag my body out of the bed.
Like anyone with a pulse I love free stuff. But I am coupon disabled, and hate spam so I never ever ever (did I say never) click on sample, or link or coupon or contest. I know my limits, and I already beat the odds by breathing, so I’m pretty sure I wont win anything else, I used up my luck with healthy kids, a great husband, and finding amazing Dr’s to keep me out of the beautiful vase on the mantel.
I have a facebook friend named Nicole, I have watched her evolve in her profession and personal life over the past few years via the internet. So when Nicole posted that she had some samples of Essential Oils and would send them out if anyone wanted one. I knew it wasn’t a scam and instantly yelled ” ME ME ME !!!” Then I had to ask her what I had asked for, I’m cool like that.
I was unfamiliar with the entire want/need/purpose of essential oils. I bake, I make chocolate, I do computers, I live in the south. There are oils in my world. Motor Oil, Cooking Oil, and Baby Oil. Nicole is awesome, and she gave me the link so I could read about the Essential Oils and their purpose and use. Then we had a long conversation, that was my fault because I was super excited.
Once she explained the purpose of essential oils, and the different uses for a wide variety of reasons, it hit me like a bus. I remembered my great grandmother, with her hankies, and the peppermint oil to lay on our chests and dab on our feet if we felt less than perfect, the drops of lavender in the evening tub, then always on a beautiful little hankie and slipped into our pillow cases, the way she would slip a hankie with a little citrus into our suitcases so when we traveled we were energized. When the winter cold and sadness would creep in, my beautiful soft spoken great grandmother would slip away and return with an oil to rub our hands as she would listen to our woes. She had played piano in the silent movie theaters in her younger years, and had these long beautiful fingers, but by her late 80’s arthritis was trying to twist them, she kept her agility and wouldn’t let arthritis claim her body by her special mixture of oils she blended with lotion to use on her hands. I had somehow forgotten all those things, they had been pushed to the back of my brain filled with movie trivia, and song lyrics, and computer passwords, all the things that filled my brain since she passed so many decades ago. But as a mom for 26 years I did turn to “old tricks” from time to time, like peppermint in water to settle a babies stomach, and lavender scented baby wash to calm them for the night.
How did this amazing knowledge get lost in just 3 generations. My great grandmother passed in the 70’s. Pharmaceutical treatments have boomed since then and we all know how that is a next level crazy multi kazillion dollar market. When I tell you we pay thru the nose to have 2 insurances just so I can see the Dr’s I need to see and be able to buy ramen noodles and my prescriptions I am not kidding. It’s a rough world, we have been able to cure so much, correct so much, prolong life, and so many amazing things. I am lucky enough to have ridiculously genius Drs who also respect my right to try anything else first, before adding yet another pill into my routine of the dozen or more I already have to take. Not all Drs support this idea, and if you look at someone on more than 5 medications daily, you will see that over time other medications must be added to just treat the side effects of the other ones they need to survive. It’s great we can do this, but we lost a bit, didn’t we? Remember if you are here, and you are reading this, your genetics are awesome even if they appear jacked up. Because in your not to distant history every one of us has family members that knew NOT to eat poison, how to treat their own problems, and basically were tough as nails to survive. Not only the midevil ages, but just a couple generations ago. Horse to town, 1 Dr with natural cures, no power, no water, no vitamins, no walmart, no gas station, hard life, hard hard life. But if you are here, that means your ancestors were incredible, even without Ambien, ibprofin, orajel, lyrica, phenegren, antibotics and the slew of other medications prescribed 10 thousand times a day across our country. Does this mean you shouldn’t take your prescribed medication? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO and NO. Duh. That’s between you and your Dr. and honestly your ancestors probably would have lived longer, stronger lives with the medications we have access to now. My point is that maybe if we combined what they knew with what the Drs and pharmacist know now, just imagine how incredible it could be. It’s just my theory. I’m not a Dr, Nurse, pharmacist or anything that requires higher knowledge. I’m just a woman who just realized that her great grandmother from the 1800’s was on to something.
I received my samples from Nicole. I had a little lavender and a drop or 2 of lemon and the same with the peppermint. That evening, I put a little lavender in my tub, and in what would probably be considered blasphemy to any lady I grabbed a clean solo sock. ( solo socks are the name for the surviving sock when it’s mate runs off to sock heaven or a parallel universe) I put a little lavender on it, and shoved it in my pillow case and then put a drop on my sleep mask. ( don’t judge me and my sleep mask, I need everything in my favor to even attempt getting to sleep let alone staying asleep for more than 2 hours). Here’s a really really incredibly HOT picture of me in my awesome sleep mask at
my friends Angie and Arts house in Florida.
So the next day I felt ok, so I did it again the next night, and again, I rested. So I have been doing this every night. Let me explain, sleeping is an Olympic event for me. I have done everything to achieve the ever elusive sleep. With the help of Dr’s and medication I can achieve sleep ( sometimes). I am super grateful for that, however, sleep is not rest, or relaxing. Often I don’t get through the night leaving me stuck in a state of longing for rest. So the fact that I have consistently achieved relaxation and rest and sleep every night is ground breaking.
I can’t even adequately explain what actual rest has done for my productivity. For the first time in years I am going full speed, 24/7. Something I was told would be nothing but a fading memory for the last 5 years.
Now this isn’t Dr Fabulous Miracle Oil. I’m not saying that it’s going to make you rich or cure your every worry. I am saying that so far it’s really helping me achieve relaxation and rest in combination with my regular medical and behavior routines.
The downfall. With having rest and the energy to run 24/7 for the very first time since 2009, my body has said, “slow it down”. I’ve had a lot of procedures in the past couple of years. A LOT. As in over 20. I have also done physical therapy for a couple years to help my balance, my gait, and mobility issues, not to mention all the nerve and pain. My body has a routine. If I leave my house on a Monday, Monday night I wont sleep, I will be in pain, and the next day I can do nothing, not a thing, even something simple like the dishes. It’s been that way for 5 years now. No matter how much I try to push through I am fighting my own body. So running full speed leaving my house every day, thinking, walking, driving, I keep waiting to hit the wall, and I knew it was coming, so I tried to thwart it, keep it at bay, not let it win. But BAM !
So I took the precious drops of the Peppermint Essential Oil and I massaged it into my feet and hands, I took my Lemon Essential Oil and placed a drop in my water, a drop in the diffuser next to my chair and then a dab behind each ear, then rubbed a little into my throat.
You guys, I’m here, I am writing this post, unsolicited, because I can not even believe the difference. Am I NOT jumping up and dusting the ceilings or painting the house, no, certainly not, far from it. But I am not moaning with every twitch and choosing to go without lunch because I can’t get past the pain to move myself into the kitchen.
Let’s clarify here, I am using these fantastic high quality essential oils in addition to my regular prescribed medications. It’s only been about a week, and only the smallest drops of these Essential Oils, but I can see a difference in my body, and I need to share that in case it makes a positive difference for someone else.
Remember this is an unsolicited personal post from ME, my point of view and MY results, I am not paid nor compensated for this post, Nicole herself doesn’t know about this post and will only find out one I publish and share the link to her wall on Facebook. So right now I need to say, Thank you, Thank you so much Nicole for telling us about these doTerra Essential Oils. I will bake cookies today, and everyone who takes a bite will be thanking you.
If you want to find out more about these essential oils from doTerra please visit this link to Nicoles doTerra site.
YOU DON’T KNOW ME !
Today I blew my cover in my super secret world wide Gang.. Damnit. All because I ran in a store to grab my mom a treat. I’m not Darkwing Duck, I am… e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.
Dear punk teenagers with the crotch of your pants lower than your knees, with a cigarette hanging out of your mouth and your shirt flung over your should showing off what might one day be a chest:
The second I walked in, I saw panic in the poor elderly woman behind the counter. haven’t we all? I mean I’m sure in her day she didn’t see a mans ass crack and drawers until after dark on her wedding day, but I am forward, I’ve got kids, I am cool and down with it, I can totally bridge this culture gap of generations no problem, let me slip on my cape.
I walked closer and I hear her voice quivery with a mix of fear, with a dash of authority. I can’t quite make it out, she makes only brief eye contact with you and repeats her words, and tone. I get closer to the counter where each of you are on separate sides, like a courtroom or even a crazy dance scene from west side story might break out, and lucky me, woot woot, front row seats to this off off off off off Broadway production.
As I grow closer though, she glances at me, with fear and pleading in her eyes. I look over to sum you up again, and you have a lighter, and you are flicking it, your cheap ass lighter that’s grinding oddly on that crooked flint throwing a faint spark as you steadily flick flick flick flick.
Then out of the corner of your 14 or 15 year old mouth that isn’t holding a cigarette you are trying feverishly to light while standing across the counter from a lady working a restaurant. WOW, NO FN WAY ? I must have heard that wrong, surely your little boy butt did not just put vocal thrust behind the F^$* YOU! you just spewed at this elderly lady working.
Now I hear and see, she is saying, ” no smoking, no smoking, you can’t smoke here, please leave, no it’s illegal, please please just leave me. English isn’t her first language, she may speak it fine normally but maybe her being so scared and upset is making it choppy, but not to choppy to misunderstand the meaning, and I certainly understand smart ass teen, and what you said to that lady was wrong.
I stood back, waiting, to see if you 2 human beings from such different times, who have had such different lives can come together to communicate, without any escalation. I mean honey please, your tennis shoes and watch probably cost more than this ladies car, and I’m quite sure your comfy little “pseudo” hard life was obviously way worse than whatever this woman went thru 50 years ago in another country she left to move to this one full of strangers, strange language, crossing an ocean to bust her ass to work in the food industry and be intimidated and cussed by a little spoiled puke poser like you.
Uhm no. You can’t. because in walked your 2 little spoiled punk boyfriends. with your shirts off, and your pants around your ankles which pretty much ensures no matter my current physical state of health I can disable each of you with little effort as basically you have tied your ankles together.. genius move dorks..
I tried, I did. I honestly tried to stay out of it. But my mom really really really wanted a food item from this location, and since even though I am an adult I do want to see my mom smile I had left her in the car while I ran in to grab what she wanted. I wanted to be some sort of bridge for you to to communicate across. DAMN YOU ! I already had my stupid cape on and now, I have to step in.
Sadly, I left my “little prick to English dictionary” in the car. So when your little boyfriends came in, holding their regions that might one day turn into a gender, and you yelled, ” F &^% YOU, followed by a racial slur as you made another round of attempts to light your cigarette, I remembered I may not speak little prick, but I speak mom.
So son, when the fat old white lady in capris and flip flops with her hair in a clip who looks like every other old white soccer mom on the planet reached up and slapped that cigarette out of your mouth today, I saw you recoil in fear, I understand when your little boyfriend bowed up like he forgot his common sense at home in his upper middle class 2 parents home with a landscaped yard and thought he was going to run his mouth in my direction, yeah yeah I stepped at him, and used my best loudest, out door MOM voice to scream while pointing. ” BOY DON”T YOU DREAM IT!! I KNOW YOUR MOMMA !! I WILL KNOCK YOUR SMART MOUTH INTO NEVERLAND IF YOU DON”T STRAIGHTEN UP AND GET OUT NOW ! in that split second dumbass 3 took off as fast as he could possibly waddle with his pants around his ankles towards the door, dumb ass 2 started backing himself toward the door like a duck backing away from a croc, and you, you I never broke eye contact as I growled, ” DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? you blinked, I had you.
I had you, and I made you apologize, I made you throw away your ILLEGAL smokes and lighter, and I made you pull up your pants and walk out. Of course you do NOT know who I am, for I come in many forms.
Here’s the deal my little friend. Those of us “old ladies” you think you strike fear in? Baby boy, we been playing this game so long, we can flip it like a light switch.. Do you doubt me? Find any mom in the stands at her kids sports game, she will come completely OFF THE DAMN chain over a bad call by the ref. That mom, yeah that’s the same mom, that by one look and without saying a word can make your grown father cower off to the pantry to empty the trash.
There are ways to spot us. We keep our pants pulled up. often our hair too. we wear gang related clothing, often it’s like capris or yoga pants with a hair band around our wrist, you come across a mom with more than one hair band on her wrist? you are doomed, they are like belts in martial arts. Just quietly, and respectfully back the hell away. Of course you don’t know who I am son, because I am ” every mom ” the mom you thought was at work, or at home or busy, and trusted you and your little friends to go walking a strip mall while she got a pedicure. I am the shadow in the closet, I am the cop at the door, I am the glass of water that braves the dark at 2am when you were too scared to speak. I am the Doctor who nursed your wounds, the Teacher that helped you sing the ABC’s. I am the mother in labor, and the mother who keeps selected baby baby clothes in a keepsake box. I am the Judge, the Jury, and I poses a pair of eyes in the back of my head I allow your mother to channel. I will watch your precious little ass for her, if her eyes aren’t near. If she has misplaced trust in you, I will point out kindly how you are tying the damn rope around your neck yourself. I have faith that any mother of any child who was trying to play big bad ass criminal man, and scaring an old lady today, would have knocked the shit out of you so hard you would be back in diapers. If I am wrong about your mom, if. IF. If I am wrong and your mom thinks it’s fine for her little boy half naked to have ciggerettes, a dirty mouth, break laws and treat another human like trash, well then son, you need me more than you will ever know, and I’m sorry that your mom wants to be your friend more than she wants you to be a good person. Just remember.. We are a world wide network, we are trained, you wont ever know who is watching. So don’t be a little shit. m’kay?